#by “tempted to just get drunk” I mean i am getting dressed and walking to the corner store right now to buy alcohol

[malleleothreesome]

1h (drunk confession) with Fellow doing the confessing

I have like, 2 other WIPs for my writing event that I feel so blocked on (SORRY LEONA LOVERS [And Ace]) so in my writing block frustration I'm tempted to just get drunk and try to write this instead

[spookysteddie]

The Very First Date

Modern!Steve Harrington x college!fem!reader

Part two to "lemon drop martini" ... Read part one here

18+ MINORS DNI

desc: you finally call Steve for that first date. And it goes better than you imagined

cw: alcohol mention (reader is not in the slightest drunk), slight Dom!Steve, cocky!Steve begging, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie. (let mw know if I missed anything)

wc: 2.8k

a/n: I hope y'all enjoy this! based off of this ask who asked me for a part two a while ago (I am so sorry). My writers block has lifted after like a year and here we are! So expect more fics soon!

...

Three days. 

You’d waited three days before calling the number on the napkin. 

Well that’s a lie. You actually called the number the next day (after eating a greasy meal, drinking a shit ton of water, and downing some aspirin… nothing like a hangover) from your roommate Alixs phone. But the second he answered, you hung up very fast. 

Alix, of course, called you a little baby back bitch and told you that you needed to call him. That it’d be nice to have some perks around your little college town. 

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment. 

To say you were nervous talking on the phone with him would be an understatement, in fact you were shitting myself. Scared he’d be able to hear it in your voice how nervous you were. Or, worse, that he wouldn’t remember you. 

Four days ago: 

“This is Steve Harrington speaking. How can I help you?”

You took a deep breath, putting a smile on your face in the hopes it’ll translate through the telephone.

“Hi, Steve. I-it’s y/n. From the bar the other night.” You cringe at the slight stutter and the wave in your voice. “You gave me your number on the napkin.” 

You can practically hear the smile in his voice, coolness seeping from his voice, “lemon drop martini girl. Of course I remember you, sweetheart.” 

You quietly sigh in relief that he remembers. 

“Oh good! I’m sorry for not calling sooner. I was a little hung over and then I had to study and take exams. Finals season.” You laugh awkwardly, cursing yourself for rambling and making a fool out of yourself. Alix would be rolling her eyes. 

Steve laughs on the other end of the line, “ah yes. I hated finals. Very frustrating. Hence why I dropped out, much to my fathers dislike.” 

One thing about you is that you love oversharing. But you love when other people overshare even more. There’s nothing like bonding over a trauma dump. 

You giggle into the phone which makes Steve giggle too, the sound mimicking a sweet song. All you want to make him do it again. 

“Anyway, sweetheart, I was wondering if you had plans for Friday night?” His tone is cool and relaxed. You could only wish to sound like that. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, words failing you for a moment. “Oh! Um, nothing actually.”

“Perfect. Hows ‘bout you and I go on a little date? I know a great place. Kinda fancy. What do you say?” 

You could kick your feet like a little girl at the prospect of going out with him. You, also, are tempted to make him wait. To give him just a little bit of a hard time. It was what you'd usually do to the men you like. But there was something in the back of your mind begging you not to. 

“I-I would like that, Steve.” 

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7. Give you time to study and get ready. Take a nap even.” 

…

 “I can’t do this. I can’t go. I mean, fuck, I have nothing to wear.” 

Nothing to wear was an understatement. You could hardly see the floor of your bedroom, clothes littering it with only a small path for where you keep walking from the mirror to your closet. 

Alix sits on your bed, drinking some wine and eating some popcorn. “I liked the black leather. I don’t know why you won’t just wear that one. You look hot in it.” 

You slide your hands down the front of the blue, sequence dress you have on. “I just feel like that’s not enough. And isn’t it a little … short for a dress for a nice restaurant?” 

Alix shrugs, “I mean, probably but who cares. You look hot.” She sips her wine and says again, “well you look hot in everything.” 

You look over at her, “while that’s sweet, he’s going to be here in fifteen minutes and I need a few shots to calm my nerves so help me pick a dress, please.” 

She rolls her eyes at my dramatics, downing her wine. “I think you should wear the short black one you wore two weeks ago. Not the leather one, the velvet one. Makes your ass look great. Oh with your Louboutins! You spent a lot of money on them and have worn them once. It’s a sin.” 

One thing is for sure, you did spend a lot of money on them, charging them to your dads credit card. 

One change and two shots of vodka later, you were walkin down the steps of your condo to an awaiting Steve. He’s in dark jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray jacket. His hair is just as perfect as the last time you saw him. (which was via instagram… gotta do the research right?)

He whistles long and low as you approach, and in a quick stroke of confidence you decide to do a little spin. He claps slowly as you face him and so, you bow. Just slightly so you don’t accidentally flash him. Not the way you want to start this date. 

“Well hello to you too, Harrington,” you say as you smirk. 

He slips his hand in his pockets, a smirk on his lips that you feel right between your legs. “You look very pretty tonight, sweetheart. I mean you’d look pretty in a potato sac but,” he shrugs. “We should get going.” 

You smile and nod at him. 

And the bar is clearly in fuckin hell, because him opening the door for you makes you want to jump his bones. But then again, no man has ever opened a door for you so… we can let it slide. 

“Such a gentleman.” “Chivalry is not dead sweetheart.” 

… 

Steve is very thoughtful. Sure, he asked all the usual questions you ask on a first date. 

What’s your major?

Do you have any siblings?

What do your parents do for work?

Oh, your dad is in sales? Funny mine too.

He gives you guilt money? Mine too! Look at us 

He also, orders you and him a bottle of wine (he has great taste) but lets you order your own meal (again the bar is in fucking hell). The place he takes you to is nice and the food is the best food you’ve had since you left home after summer break. 

“So Steve, what made you decide to open up a bar in town?” You eat a spoonful of dessert, eyes never leaving his. 

He takes a spoonful of his own dessert. “I was sick of working for everyone else. I knew if I made a unique bar, something you and your friends have never seen, others would want to check it out. Then you’d tell all your friends, who’d tell their friends, etc.” He grins as he talks, keeping eye contact with you. 

It felt like a game of ‘who is going to look away first.’ A game you weren’t going to lose. Slowly, you pull the spoon out of your mouth, dipping it back in to your dessert. “Interesting. Great concept if you ask me.” 

He huffs a small laugh through his nose, “I’m glad you enjoyed my bar.” 

You scrunch your brows, the wine making you bold, “who said I enjoyed it?” 

Now he really laughs, “you seemed to really enjoy all those lemon drop martinis. So much so you had a hangover the next day. I tried giving you waters but you threatened to gut me.” 

Your jaw hangs open, “fibber.” 

“I haven’t been called a fibber since I was a kid,” he smiles. “But yes you did tell me you would gut me. And then you left and I thought I’d never hear from you again.” 

You can’t help but feel slightly guilty inside for not calling sooner. Well, you did call sooner but chickened out. 

“And here we are.” 

“Yes, here we are.” 

He seems to think for a moment, sipping his wine (one he ordered that would go well with the dessert. He was right.)

“Wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” He looks up at you through his lashes, tongue rolling down the inside of his cheek. 

He wasn't… demanding. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you could turn him down. That he would take you home with a smile on his face. There would be no fuss, no fight, no name calling. No pressure. 

And for that very reason, with a smile on your pretty face you answer him, “yours or mine?” 

… 

You’re not even through the door of his apartment before his mouth is on yours, his large hands on your face. The kiss starts soft, testing the waters and it isn’t very long before you deepen it. Your tongues dance but there is no fight for dominance, you let him win. You want him to win. 

His lips trail over your jaw before slowly moving down your neck, gently nipping at your skin. 

“Such a pretty girl,” he says in between kisses. 

He sucks a bruise into your shoulder, easy to cover up, just in case. You let out a soft moan, hands coming up to tug at his hair. 

“You-you’re pretty too.” 

You can feel him grin against you, head lifting as his body cages you in, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty. Well besides Eddie but that was mocking.” 

You laugh, moving in and kissing him slowly, sweetly, “you are a very pretty boy.” 

You can feel his hard dick jerk at the sentiment, and you keep it as a mental note. You know, just in case you need it. 

“Fuck, can’t say shit like that.” 

“No? Why not?” 

“Cause it makes my cock hard. And it’ll be very embarrassing if I cum in my pants. Can't ruin my reputation.” The smirk on his face makes you almost pass out. You swear to God you can feel every word in your core. 

“Hmmm, we can’t have that can we?” You push his jacket off his shoulders before running your hands down to the hem of his shirt. “Should take me to bed so we don’t risk you cumin’ early.” 

It’s all the permission he needs. His lips are back on yours, his hands under your ass and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands in his hair as he carries you to the bed. 

He puts you down gently, his lips never leaving yours. Not for a moment. Not until he pulls away to tug his shirt over his head. You take the moment to take him in, his body lithe and toned.  You also can’t help noticing the scars on his side that look a little like bite marks. Bite marks from something that isn’t human, something you make a mental note to ask him about at a later date. 

“Sculpted from marble, god damn.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, never wanting to stroke a man's ego. 

Steve just grins as he finds the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down slowly down, his knuckles slowly touching your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You shiver under the touch and he notices. You’re quickly learning that Steve notices everything.

It isn’t long before he’s pulling the dress down your body, leaving you in only your underwear. Underwear that barely covers you, a wet patch on full display. If it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed. 

“Are you this wet for me?” His tone is mocking and he’s practically cooing at you, “go on. Answer me.” 

Your eyes widen. Men have been demanding in the bedroom, plenty of them thinking they’re little tough guys. But none of them get that from you, none of them deserving. You’re not sure why you want to give that to him. You’re not sure what makes him different. And honestly, that is a problem for future you to talk about in therapy. 

“Yes,” you reply, voice a little higher than usual. “S’all for you.” 

The smirk he gives you makes your heart speed up. “Such a sweet, pretty thing. God, I want to devour you.” 

His lips move to your chest, sucking a peaked nipple into his mouth. You can’t help but arch into his mouth, a small moan falling from your lips, his hand coming to play with your neglected breast. And it isn’t long before he swaps sides, his teeth nipping and sucking. 

“Please. More.” 

He laughs, moving to oblige you and kissing down your sternum before settling between your legs. “May I?” 

Him asking makes your heart stutter in your chest, “yes. God yes. Please.” 

Steve tugs your underwear down your legs, tossing them to meet the rest of the clothes on the floor. “I think I could get used to praying to me.” 

He doesn’t give you time to answer before he licks up your cunt, stopping at the top to suck on your clit. The moan that comes out of you is loud and you’re thankful the windows are closed. “Fuck, Steve!” 

He pushes a finger inside of you, curling them to reach the spongy spot inside you. “And you moaning my name is even better. Why don’t you do it again, angel” 

He pushes another finger inside you, the burn causing you to grip his hair. “Steve please!” 

“Please what, sweetheart?” 

He moves his fingers faster, continuing to hit your sweet spot over and over again. His mouth moves to your clit, sucking gently. He keeps his eyes on you, observing, listening to every sweet moan and sigh that comes out of you. He files them away in his brain so he never forgets what drives you crazy. 

“Need to… I-I need” 

He sucks hard before pulling back, “need what? Go on, use your words.” 

You gasp, “to cum. I- please.” 

Begging wasn’t what you did for men. If anything, they begged you. Begged you to let them cum. 

Steve doesn’t say a word, just grins and uses his free hand to press on your stomach. That is your undoing. “Steve!” You pulse around his fingers, breath getting caught in your chest. You feel warm all over, head emptying as he works you through it. 

“That’s it baby. That’s a good girl. Bet that feels so good doesn’t it?” 

You try to answer, you really do. But all you can manage is a small nod. 

“Gonna let me fuck you?” 

Again, you can only manage a nod. 

“That’s my girl.” 

And before you can even process his words, he flips you over on your stomach, hands pulling your hips in the air. You’re on full display for him. He can see everything. But you couldn't care less, all you want is him inside you. 

And you get your wish. He moves slow, making sure he doesn’t hurt you. He’s big and you can feel every inch of him stretching you. It’s a tight fit even with how wet you are. 

“Holy shit this pussy is amazing baby. Squeezing me so tight.” 

His other hand braces himself by your head before dropping down to his forearms. He’s so close to you now, inside and out, his hips moving slowly so you adjust to him, and his breath fanning across your face. 

“F-faster. Faster.” Your hands rake down his back, nails digging into his back, making him hiss. 

He snaps his hips faster, grinning down at you. “Just so needy huh?” 

You nod feverishly, “yes. F-feels so fucking good.” 

He laughs at you now, kisses you. “Such a dirty mouth, baby. Pretty girls aren’t supposed to swear.” 

“Says-says you… swear all the time. L-like a sailor.” 

He hums. “Dirty mouth for a dirty fuckin girl.” 

“That-that’s me.”

He fucks you faster and you feel like coil growing tighter and tighter inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, not wanting him to get too far away. He groans and you can tell he’s close. 

“Want… no need you to cum inside me. I’ll d-die if you don’t,” you beg. You know you’ll probably regret it in the morning, all that you’ve said here in this bedroom. But at the moment you can’t find it inside you to care. Mainly because he was taking up every inch of you. 

“Yeah? Need it? I’ll give it to you baby. Will give you anything you want.” 

And it’s all you need to fall over the edge, walls clenching around him so hard he falls with you. A mutual “fuck!” falls from both your and his lips. 

You're both panting as you come down from the high. He pushes your hair out of your face and kisses you sweetly. Suddenly Steve is giggling, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

“What? Why are you laughing?” you ask with just a little bit of worry. 

“I am so fucking glad you ordered a lemon drop martini.”

[starliights-shining]

Party goer.

Pairing: Jazz x reader

Warnings: NSFW, fem word uses,

A/N: this is like 4400+ words and 8 pages in my docs, ive been working on it fro the past week or so. Its not proof read, i simply just dont proof read. I've been preoccupied with RE4s remake coming out soon, but i swear im not ignoring the TF request I have, it'll just take a long time for them to come out. :) anyways enjoy!

Parties, loud music, drinking, the mixing crowd of bots and people. You didn’t really care for them, but Jazz did. When you say a lot of parties, you mean a lot of parties. Ranging from weddings, funerals, battle victories, hell even political ones, Because if Jazz got an invite, he was going with you of course. This party was different. He got his invite from Prowl, but when Jazz brought the invite to you, it said in fancy italics “No Humans!”. 

“It says no human Jazz. I'm not going to some stupid party just to be denied entry or worse bullied.” 

“You won’t get bullied, you’ll be with me. For the last time (Y/N)” 

You were on the couch, You looked at the bot, a disappointed frown on his face plate. The invitation is gently in your grasp, its fancy English writing and other language translations. 

“I don’t know that Jazz, you want me to get all dressed up just to be denied entry or be sat outside the entire time?” 

You placed the invasion on the coffee table. Leaning back into the couch, you were upset. Your lover was basically asking you to get dressed and all just to be denied entry to a party, no, you will not be doing that. 

“You’re acting like I'm asking you to fight in a war, I’m not.” 

“You, Jazz, you're not understanding.” 

You're stuttering over your words, he was upsetting you. 

“I am understanding, if you don’t want to go just tell me the real reason. Is it prowl? Is there someone else you’re avoiding?” 

“I don’t want to be bullied at a party for being me, that's all Jazz.” 

“Cut the slag, (Y/N).” 

You were taken aback, why was he so upset with you. 

“You know what, yes Jazz. It’s You and Prowl” 

You were now standing up, he had finally gotten the same energy match. You were pissed. 

  “I dont want to go to a party, where I sit in a fucking corner by myself, and watch you and Prowl get fucking drunk. I don’t want to sit outside a fucking club or god fucking knows where, while you and your shit cop buddy go inside and get fucked up and hit on. Just go by yourself.” 

You walked out of the living room, hell you were tempted to go for a walk. Instead you walk straight to your room. Locking the door and just sitting on the edge of your bed. How the hell could he just yeah at you like, over not wanting to go to a party that says “No Human.”

You woke up to a knock on the door. Multiple knocking, getting up you opened the door to see Jazz, his smile not wearing as you gave him a tired look. 

“You wanna get ready, and like come with us?”

You stared into his visor, until the movement of Prowl behind him caught your attention. You sighed before motioning your head for him to enter and moved towards the bathroom. He closed the door behind himself, and followed you into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

His question felt stupid, of course you were still mad at him. He made you feel bad, how would he feel if you made him feel like shit for following directions. You took your clothes off and stepped into the shower. 

“No, just tired.” 

“Tired, tired of me?” 

He laughed, he was trying to lighten the mood, considering he could probably feel the heavy atmosphere. 

“I guess you could say something like that.”

“Alright well, I’ll be downstairs with Prowl, we’ll leave when you're ready.” 

You actually don't know why you're going, you had expressed very aggressively why you didn’t want to go. Yet, the moment Jazz asked you didn’t hesitate. He just had that effect on you, a simple command and you’d do it, but he doesn’t ever want to understand your side. The noise of Jazz laughing took you out of your thoughts, the cold nipping at your skin as you three stood in the que line to get in. You peeked around the bot in front of you to see the line, an arrangement of all all types of people, but not a single human. You straighten up, standing behind the two mechs, an uneasy feeling washed over you. You truly felt like you weren’t supposed to be here. You felt someone bump into you, turning around, you were met with an ugly look. 

“Sorry, I didn’t,” “I don’t care, just watch where you’re walking.” 

They had cut off your apology, completely blaming you for the encounter. The person had tried to step in front of you, assuming the line ended right after Jazz and Prowl. You stepped back in our original spot, looking up at the person and smiling. 

“Sorry, I was actually here before you.” 

Bring your hand up to point at the spot you were standing at, the same spot you’ve been at, right behind the two Cybertronians. Jazz turned around at the sound of your voice. Looking between you and the person. 

“Is there a problem?” 

He placed that ‘I’ll act nice, but am i really’ smile on his face plate. You watched as the person backed up, looking at you with an upset look before mumbling no. Jazz pulled you to stand in front of him. 

“Did something happen?” 

“No, he was just trying to cut in line. Probably because I was human.” 

You spoke, turning around and looking forward. This was the exact reason you didn’t want to come. You weren’t even inside yet and there was already someone trying to start something. All these other space people, some of them look like humans, You can’t tell the difference unless you ask them, and even then some won’t even admit they're human. 

By the time you remember what you were here for, Jaz had already gotten both you and Prowl into the party. 

Jazz bends down to your head level, before speaking. 

“See, we’re in. No need to worry.” 

You looked at him, why the fuck would he say that. He started walking towards an empty booth, sitting you inside. 

“Now, Prowl and I have some things to attend to. Stay here, if anyone asks, you're waiting for someone.” 

You nod, placing your hands in your lap. Before Jazz leaves he places a kiss on your forehead, causing you to look over at him, he smiles, snaps one of his servos before pointing a finger gun at you. You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, this is exactly how you thought it'd go. Being left in some strange club, while he goes off to go god fucking knows where. A waiter came up to your table asking if you wanted anything, considering you knew you’d be there for a long ass time. You ordered yourself something, anything to keep you occupied. The last thing you wanted was to think about your situation. 

The waiter brought the drink out and after a few sips you just ended up swirling the liquid around. The mix of human and cybertronian alcohol mixed into a light neon blue. Maybe this was just part of the every plan, drag you out to a party and have you sit alone. You can't seem to figure out what comes after that, some random person hits on you or the Prowl keeps you company until Jazz comes back. The simple thought of having company while sitting here just kept creeping into your mind. 

You were left with your own mind, something that can pull your moods up or down with just simple thinking, but considering you’ve been at this party for some time and no one seems to notice or care, it was time to just relax. You leaned back in the booth, your head resting on the stuffed leather as you closed your eyes. Pulling your drink close to you, but keeping your hand on it. You know closing your eyes in a foreign place isn’t the greatest thing to do, but who really cares, you didn’t want to come here anyways and hopefully Jazz or Prowl would return soon. 

You were just getting comfortable when you felt a knock on the table. Your eyes open to see the familiar blue visor. He smiled at you before sitting around from you, a drink in hand. 

“Whatcha doin?” 

His tone was playful, it seems like his drink was really getting to him. 

“Sitting here,” 

You reply as you close your eyes again. 

“I don't know, it seems like you were sleeping.”

“I was just resting my eyes.”

You lifted your hand up moving it around in front of your face in a shade gesture. 

“That's bad because anyone could slip something into your drink.” 

You shrugged, you knew he was right but you really didn’t want to admit he was, you were still upset at him. So instead you acted like you didn’t care. 

“And then they’d kidnap you, my beautiful girlfriend.” 

He was sweet talking you. He knew you were still upset at him and the thought of that simple just couldn’t exist within him. You didn’t respond, if he knew the true reason he’d recommend leaving, and you really like the drink you have and you're super comfortable. 

“Now, tell me, why are your eyes closed? Is it the lights? Thinking about getting me in bed already?” 

God now he was asking questions and his questions were getting out of hand, so you acted like you couldn't hear him over the loud music and chatter. You finally decided that keeping your eyes closed would mean no looking at Jazz, so you lifted your head. Making eye contact with his visor while pulling your cup up to your lips. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” 

You just wanted to know what he wanted, disturbing your peace in your small corner booth. He looked taken aback, he placed his free hand on his chassis and let out a dramatic gasp.

“I just wanted to see what my beautiful girlfriend was doin, am I not allowed to be with you.” 

You rolled your eyes, is this really how he was trying to get on your good side? 

“And now you’ve seen, Don’t you have things to attend to, like,”

You paused looking around the crowded room, your eyes scanning for anything that looked of interest or be of interest to Jazz. You saw multiple people dancing, a group of girls getting drunk and being hit on by some space robot, the DJ trying to keep up with everyone's requests, the bartender yelling at someone for hitting on her, and then your eyes landed on Prowl. The cop sat with a lady at the bar, that was your goat out, Jazz would see Prowl finally getting some and then it’d be enough to convince him to either wingman for him or leave with you. You lifted your hand with your cup in it, your index finger pointing towards the bot.

“Like Prowl, He seems to have found himself a lady.” 

Jazz whips his helm around, searching the bar for the bot.

“I don’t believe it.”

He trailed off as he turned back to you. Now was the time he’s supposed to get up and go talk to them, get her to fall in love with his close friend, but for some reason, he doesn’t. He leans back into his spot in the booth, taking a sip of the drink he harbored. A sly smile on his face as he watches your face. 

“Was that your plan to get rid of me?”  

You sighed, downing the last bit of your drink. You shifted your position in the booth, Placing your arms on the table as you leaned in. He leans in himself, that same smile on his face. Your eyes trail from his visor to his lips and then down his chassis and finally to his servos. Your eyes flicking back up to his visor and then back to his drink.  Learning a tad bit more and smiling. 

“Yeah, kinda hoped it would work, maybe I could get you to leave me the fuck alone.” 

You said his smile fading as he started to move back to his original position, your hands swiftly grab his cup, It being slightly larger than yours, as you bring it up to your lips, taking in the liquid. You thought it tasted ten times better then whatever the fuck you hand before.

“You little,” 

he was cut off as you got up from the booth, placing the cup back on the table. Since Jazz wasn’t going to wingman for Prowl, you thought you’d do it. Walking towards the bot, you felt a pair of metal arms wrap around you . 

“Where do you think you're going little miss.” 

Jazz’s voice being heard a little too clearly in your ear, you giggled, leaning back into him. You moved to grab his arms.

“I wanna go tell Prowl that we’re leaving,” 

You lied, the original plan being thrown out the window the moment Jazz grabbed you, the same thought about how you’d do anything for him. 

He hummed his response letting god of you and settling for just holding your hand as you dragged him towards the bot. As you got closer until you got the attention of Prowl, You put on your brightest smile and gave a big wave.

“Prowl,” 

You drew out his name, His optics met your eyes. 

“Jazz and I are going home, I thought I’d tell you just in case you were to leave later and couldn’t find us.” 

He nodded, after getting confirmation you looked towards the lady, smiling before turning back to Prowl and waving. You turned around and started to leave. Walking through the crowd of people and to the door, you could feel the occasional squeeze from his servos. 

The feeling of the cold night breeze hit your face hard, shivering as Jazz moved to stand next to you while letting go of your hand. Fresh air never felt better, a deep breath coming from you, eyes closed relaxed. It seemed like the headache you had while in the building disappeared the moment you stepped outside. The noises of cars and other city noises take over your ears. 

“Soo, what do you wanna do now,” 

He paused, you opened your eyes to look over at him and smiled. 

“I know you didn't actually want to go home, come on, you look too good to just go home.” 

He moved his servos in a gesturing motion towards your outfit, yeah you did like your fit and did think it was kinda too early to go home, but you didn’t need him to know that. 

“We could just go for a walk, see what we see.” 

You suggested, bringing your hands up to the sides of your arms, the chill of the air seeping to your bones. You started in a direction, the bot following behind you. You could hear the sound of whirling from his intake. 

“Got anywhere special you wanna go?” 

He moved up to walk next to you, a smile on his face plate as he analyzed your reaction. The city was large, and you could practically go anywhere you wanted. So you thought, trying to come up with something cool other than just going home. Cool, something cool for Jazz to enjoy. He could just enjoy your company, but the idea of a walk didn’t really seem to interest him whatsoever. 

“It's okay if you don't have anything to do. I already dragged you to that party,” 

He paused, he was thinking, your eyes met with his visor. Your reflection looking back at you in the shiny blue material. At that moment, you thought you could look at yourself for the rest of your life through that visor, a visor brighter than the blue sky. You didn’t practically like looking at yourself, but this time, you thought you could do it for hours on end. Your eyes trail down to his lips for a split second before looking back at his visor. The cold air seemed to hit your body differently at that moment, almost lighting a fire of lust within you. 

“Hello, (Y/N)? Y’a there!” 

Jazz moved his servo in front of your face, breaking you from your trance. Your hands came up to your mouth in a cupping motion as you blew hot air into them, a desperate attempt to warm up. You could just take one and tell him you’d like to go home, but who knows what’d go down if you both went home with the amount of alcohol in your systems. Maybe that’s what made going home so exciting, the thought of desire and being under the bot you so desperately love. 

“I’d like to go home, it’s getting colder and I didn’t dress for it.” 

You stated, the idea to cover the real reason for going home with freezing being the only thing keeping you going. 

You both arrive at your house, the bot standing behind you while you fiddled with your keys to get the door unlocked. You opened the door to be met with the warmth of your home and its familiar comforting smell. The sigh coming from you is a signal of home. You had walked further into your home, forgetting about the bot who was behind you. You just wanted out of your clothes, the redistricting fabric from the dress and the heels you wore that was making it feel like you were walking on pins and needles. 

When Jazz looked up from closing the door you were gone, the faint noise of your heels going up the carpeted stairs . 

“Slow down, pretty girl.” 

He called out, as he started following you. It didn’t take long for him to catch up, walking into your bedroom to see you standing next to the bed, one hand placed on the mattress and slightly bent over as your other hand reached for your heel that was kicked up. He leaned against the door frame watching you, arms crossed over his chassis. 

Once you got your heels off you dug your feet into the carpet, the feeling getting you to sigh in relief, no more heels. Both of your hands were now planted on the bed and your head hanging down, all you needed was to get your dress off and then get a warm bath and your night would be complete. Complete? I’d be complete if you could get Jazz on top of you. Your thoughts were cut short when you felt a pair of servos on your waist, his digits playing with the fabric of your dress. 

“You look too good in this dress, just for it to go to waste. Don't you think so?”

You could feel him pulling you into him, your back meeting his chassis as his helm rested on your shoulder. You’d be lying if you didn’t agree with him, you looked too damn good in your dress just to give it up in a matter of seconds. His servo was traveling downwards, stopping at the hem of the dress. He took a deep breath in, his servos playing with the end of your dress. 

“I’ve thought about you in this dress since we left.” 

His servo moved to your inner thigh, and moved upwards towards your panties. A whimper left your mouth, his digits started to move from your clit to your entrance, he wasn't even in your panties yet. 

“Yet, I still don't know how i want to fuck you.” 

The dirty talk was getting to you, fueling the fire of desire and want within you, and with how close to your pussy he was, it was getting hard to stay patient. HIs digits moved the fabric of your panties aside, his digits circling your clit and occasionally going down to circle your entrance. A moan leaving your mouth, he was picking speed up and then slowing down in a steady pattern. If he kept this up, you’d be a moaning mess by the end of the night. 

“That feel good, enjoying yourself baby?” 

He spoke in a mocking tone. Of course it felt good, but you weren’t going to tell him that. He finally fully put his digits in you, rubbing against your walls before deciding to go in a scissoring motion. There was no more holding back, your head leaned back against his shoulder plating, and you did not stop moaning. 

“Yeah,” 

He paused, taking a moment to fully enjoy the sounds you were making, and change his pattern fingering. 

“I’d say you're enjoying it a little too much, it's gettin’ a little too tight. Getting close aren't ya.”  

All you could do in that moment was nod and whine out his name. The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter by the second. 

“Yeah, let's speed this up.” 

His servo on your waist goes to circle your clit, you were already trying to last longer then you wanted, but you guess that is out of the window now. The sensation from his digits in you and circling your clit was getting to much, your hands came up to grab his helm 

“Jazz, please.” 

You were able to get out in between moans and whines. The knot was going to break any second now, and you wanted to be vocal about it. 

“Yeah, come baby.” 

You did just that, came all over his digits. His pace not once slowing or stopping, a steady pace as you rode your high out on his servo. Wiggling and grinding your hips into that same servo in an attempt to keep the high longer. 

“Don't worry, I’m not done just yet.” 

He moves to help you out of the dress straps and moves it down below your breast, servos moving to play with the flesh, pitching one nipple and rolling the other with his digits. A sharp gasp came from you, He pulled you into him, this time it was more aggressive as he littered your neck and jaw with kisses. 

“You're so pretty, you know that.” 

He lets go of you and pushes you face first into the mattress. 

“Pretty enough to take my spike.” 

The sound of his shuffling around behind, as you took your panties off and hiked you dress up above your hips, why not give him better access. He smacks his spike against your pussy, causing you to let out a dreamy sigh. After that he didn't waste any time, pushing his spike straight into you. His servos are going to grab your hips immediately after, his grip tighter than any other time. His pace was steady, he occasionally flexed his digits. He let out a few grunts here and there, but nothing was louder than your moans. 

“Primus, you take my spike so good.” 

You felt your walls clench down on his spike, now he really knew what dirty talk did to you. His servo came down with a smack, the noise jolting you from your haze, his pace picked up, and a loud groan came from him. 

“Yeah, keep that up baby. You might get me to come first.” 

He lifted your hips up and fucked into you, his grip brusing the soft skin. You knew there'd be some sort of imprint tomorrow. His spike felt like it was kissing the knot forming. You guessed his grip on your hips wasn't enough, because he had now moved one of his servos to grab the dress, bunching it up in his hand and holding onto it like he was in a rodeo and fucking into your pussy, and god you were enjoying it. Every little noise coming from you sounded like you were in a porno. 

“Yeah, you like that pretty girl.” 

His pace quickening, you felt like you were going to crumble, once that knot snapps you’d be no more, and that time was coming quicker and quicker by the second. You whined to jazz, he whined back at you. 

“What is it, you're gonna come?” 

He knew he was making you feel good, because god you were making him feel good.  You nodded the best you can through the movement from his pounding. 

“Oh primus, I love how you can’t control yourself,” 

His free servo coming down on your ass, that signature smack. He enjoyed watching the way your ass jiggled from the hit, he liked watching just like your boobs, the way they both jiggle, but more importantly the way he saw your skin move like waves when he brought your hips into his. God not only was your pussy intoxicating to him your entire being was intoxicating. You smile, the way you hand fit in his, your kisses, the simple way you looked at him, it was like watching you fall in love with him every time. You were far too intoxicating, just like his own brand and he just couldn't get enough. 

“If you wanna cum, I’ll let you, just one request.” 

Your arms are stretched in front of you on the bed, gripping the sheets beneath them.

“Anything, I’ll do anything,” 

You were practically moaning out your response, you’d simply do anything to come, to feel the warm welcome of hot desire. 

“Tell me who you belong to.” 

His free servo was now gripping your waist, pulling your hips to meet his thrusts every time. His grunts were starting to be more consistent, he was close. Far closer than you thought he’d be. You thought about his request, any other time you wouldn’t even think twice to say it. You thought about it like your life depended on it, but you really didn’t care. He's yours right now, not buried in someone else right now, he was buried deep in you, and that was simply all you needed to know. 

“You, I belong to you Jazz.” 

You grip on the sheets tightening. 

“Come on, keep it up. Gotta have everyone hear this. Can’t have anyone trying to take you now.” 

His servo let go of the dress now both on your hips, as he was hunched over, Spike going in and out with lewd noises as you both almost went over the edge. 

"Yours, I'm yours jazz.” 

You were almost not able to get your words out, you let out a few more moans before you crumbled, the last moan being dragged out as Jazz released into you. He let out a groan, thrusting his hips into you a few more times before stopping. The only thing heard within your bedroom was both you and Jazz trying to catch your breaths. 

“You're always so good.” 

You laughed, taking your time to recollect yourself before speaking. 

“Of course, You’re all I ever wanted.” 

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It's Winter. Have a great week everyone! I really enjoy reading everyone's stories!

“Guys! Look at those smoking hot blondes over there!” Emmanuel’s colleague obnoxiously pointed at two women who were sitting at a nearby table enjoying their cocktails in peace. "Check them out!"

Against his will, Emmanuel had been dragged to a seedy bar after work one day. The atmosphere was loud, crowded and poorly lit. The waitresses wore next to nothing and the music was awful.  

Unfortunately, Emmanuel was the newest employee at the company and, with much encouragement from his wife, was told to make friends. So alas, he found himself here on a Friday night.

The bar scene wasn’t his thing, so he sat quietly at the table nursing a beer. The conversation centred mostly around skanky women, booze and sex, not at all interesting to him. He’d rather be in bed with his wife than out with these sex-deprived morons. 

“Emmanuel! Look! Over there!!” Once again, his coworker loudly pointed across the room as Emmanuel shook his head. He was a happily married man. A group of women could walk in naked and he wouldn’t be tempted. He had eyes for only one woman - Brigitte. The sooner he could leave tonight, the sooner he could hold his wife in his arms. 

“Go talk to them!” Another encouraged. “They’re both blonde and tall! Isn’t that your type?!” 

Emmanuel hadn't even glanced in their general direction. Instead, he flashed his wedding band at his coworkers. “In case you forgot, I’m married.” 

“So? Since when has that stopped anyone? You’ve been married, like, 2 months. You deserve a free pass!” 

These men were disgusting and shameful. 

“I think the chicks are drunk!! This will be easy!” The first coworker chugged his beer for encouragement. “I’m going to see if I can score a phone number....or a kiss” 

It was only then that Emmanuel decided to look over at the two women who had captured the men’s attention. 

“No! No! I’ll go!” Emmanuel spoke up. “I’ll talk to them!” 

“Woah! So much for being married, aye?! You think you could handle both of them?” 

Emmanuel ignored the men and walked confidently to the girl’s table. 

His coworkers watched in awe as their new work buddy chatted up the beautiful ladies with ease.

“He put his arm around one of them!” A coworker pointed out. "Emmanuel is going to get lucky!!"

The group of men looked on with pride and envy, watching intently.  

“He's definitely going to get laid tonight! I just know it!” 

“Holy shit! Look!!! He’s leaving with them!!!!” 

“I guess his marriage vows don’t mean shit. I didn't think he'd actually do it”  

Emmanuel waved goodbye to his coworkers as he escorted the two ladies out of the bar and onto the busy street. The night air was chilly and neither of the women had dressed appropriately for the weather. 

“Does your mother know you’re here of all places, dressed like this?” Emmanuel asked. “That outfit is not appropriate!” 

The effects of too many cocktails had gone straight to Laurence’s head. She let out a cute giggle. “It’s mom’s dress, Manu”  

“I know, I recognized it right away” Emmanuel stated before turning his attention to Tiphaine. “And you! You told your mother you were studying all night” 

Tiphaine hiccuped, “I lied. And I wouldn’t have gotten caught if you didn’t show up!” 

“Yeah! Why were you at the bar? Does Maman know you’re out with a group of greasy guys?” Laurence defended her little sister. 

“They’re coworkers and yes, Brigitte knows where I am. It was her idea. Honesty is very important in my relationship with your mother” 

“Oh yeah, where was the honesty when you were hooking up with a married…” 

“Tiphaine!!! Stop!” Laurence placed her hand over her sister’s mouth, knowing exactly what she was going to say next. 

They loved Manu very much but the alcohol was beginning to rear its ugly head. 

“Come on, I’m taking you home. You can sleep in our guest bedroom” Emmanuel possessively led them to his car, throwing his coat over Laurence's body. He had a feeling one - or both - of them would trip in their ridiculously high heels if he didn't hold their hands.  

“You’re a good father,” Tiphaine admitted. “I’m sorry about what I said 5 seconds ago” 

“Well, you’re my daughters and I always want to make sure you’re safe. Please be careful when you’re out at night.” 

From inside the bar, his coworkers watched the women get into the backseat of Emmanuel’s car.  

“How the hell did he get both of them to leave with him?”   

“Emmanuel definitely has a type. Blonde. Blue eyed. Thin. Did any of you realize they looked like his wife...just younger?” 

“Hold on…” 

“What?” 

“Nevermind. I lost my train of thought"

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

Hahaha really liked the idea! I’m just imagining Manu sitting there looking miserable and just wanting his coworkers to shut up and then suddenly, ding ding ding, the two hot blondes were Laurence and Tiphaine 😂 And protective Manu over the girls is just one of the best 🤧🥰

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[crimefightingspiderguy]

holding out for a hero

Summary: Shaun (Shang-Chi) offers you go out for drinks and who are you to refuse?

Warnings: Drinking. Talk of sex (none actually happens). No spoilers for Shang-Chi and the Legend of the the Ten Rings (but I do give away what his job is in the movie if you didn't know that pre-movie).

Pairings: Shang-Chi x reader

Word count: 2,492

A/N: I did make the female reader bisexual in this piece, but if that's not how you identify, it's only briefly mentioned in a sentence or two and you can just swap out the pronouns, or skip over it really quick, without affecting the plot :) Also, please do not think I'm using the name Shaun because I didn't want to use Shang-Chi or am being disrespectful to his true name. I'm basing this timeline wise, before he reveals his past to anyone close to him.

“Hey guys!” You waved to Shaun and Katy as you walked into the hotel to clock in. You were taking over Katy’s shift. She needed to go home early to go to the doctors, but Shaun was still there for another 3 hours with you. You were very willing to take over her shift when she asked. You loved working with both of them and any chance you got to, you gladly took it. I mean, who wouldn’t want to get paid to hang out with your best friends?

“You’re welcome.” You heard Katy say to Shaun as she was walking inside to clock out, passing you by with a cheeky wink, as you took your spot next to him.

“Well, she’s in an awful good mood for having to go to the doctors. I thought she had a fear of the doctors.” You gasped, “Is she drunk?”

He chuckled, “No. She’s not actually going to the doctors. She just wanted an excuse to leave work early to go to some concert in LA.”

“Oh, that wench! I gave up going on a date to come in for her. I thought she was dying or something.” You pouted, not actually mad at her, but you were still sad you told your date no.

“You had a date? Who’s the lucky one.” Shaun asked.

“Well, she is a lucky gal who I paid to go to dinner without me.” You huffed.

“You paid her to go out to dinner? By herself?”

“Well, we already had reservations, but I told her something came up with work and I had to go in. But she could take the reservation if she wanted, my treat. I’m sure she probably took someone else since it was a reservation for two.”

“So let me get this straight.” Shaun started to laugh, “You paid some random girl to go on your date with someone else?” He was doubled over in laughter by the end of his sentence.

You kicked his shin, “Hey, I was trying to do something nice for someone I stood up… but yeah it does seem like I probably just sent her on a date with someone else.” You started to laugh with him.

“You’re too nice for your own good sometimes.” He patted you on the shoulder. “How about this, after our shift, I’ll take you out for drinks and karaoke, my treat.”

“Well, that would make me feel better.” You grinned at him, leaving his side to help the new guest pulling up.

After the shift, the two of you took a bus to his apartment so he could change out of his uniform. You were going to stop at your house, which was between his apartment and the bar but when you got into his room, a deep blue sweater hanging in his closet pulled your attention to it. You walked into his closet and shut the mirror door over it. Pulling the sweater off the hanger, it was softer than you could ever imagine. You stripped of your uniform top and threw on the sweater. It was so comfortable and after a deep inhale, smelt exactly like Shaun. It was heavenly.

“(Y/N)?” Shaun called out to you, coming out of the bathroom after getting dressed himself. You stepped out of the closet, “Why are you wearing my sweater?” He laughed at your guilty expression as you slowly walked up to him.

“Well, it was just sitting there looking so comfy, I just wanted to try it on, but now that it’s on I’m afraid I’m never going to take it off. It’s too comfy.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, snuggling into the sweater even more.

“It looks good on you.” He smiled.

“It can be our sweater, how’s that sound?” You batted your eyelashes up at him as he threw his head back in laughter.

“Let’s go short stuff before I end up staying here and cuddling. Our sweater isvery cozy, so it’s very tempting.” Him saying he would rather stay home and cuddle with you, and him holding your hand as he pulled you out of his apartment caused you to blush. He let go of your hand to lock his door, turning to you, “Are you blushing?” He chuckled, grazing his fingers over your burning cheeks.

“No, it’s just getting a little warm in this sweater.” You rolled the sleeves up, letting your arms breathe, “There, that’s better.” You lied and turned away to the exit with determination. He just shook his head and chuckled.

You were a few shots deep into your bar night when you couldn’t help but stare at Shaun. ‘Has he always been this pretty?’ you thought to yourself.

“What are you staring at?” He laughed as he set your next drink down. You said nothing but answered him by putting your hand in his hair, “Your hair is so soft. Oh my gosh it’s softer than this sweater.”

“How many drinks have you had?” He burst out laughing, pulling your hand out of his hair and holding it on the table in his own.

“I haven’t had anything to drink.” You slurred as you take a sip of the fruity drink, he put in front of you.

“Mhmmm, and how many fingers am I holding up?” He held up 3 fingers on the hand not holding yours.

“3, now how many am I holding up.” You stuck up your middle finger and stuck your tongue out as he pretended to be hurt and gasped. “I have to pee.” You got up and stumbled your way to the bathroom. It was a pretty simple trip there and back, but when you got out you couldn’t remember where your table with Shaun was. So instead of going to the table you headed up to the stage and picked the first song that stood out to you, “Holding out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler. As the intro music was building up you spoke into the microphone, “This one goes out to that beautiful boy right there.” You pointed vaguely in Shaun’s direction and then burst out into song.

He laughed as he made his way up to the edge of the stage. He was mostly concerned that you’d fall off the stage and land right on your face, but he was really enjoying the performance that you’d likely forget tomorrow. When you finished your song, you held your hand out to meet Shaun’s stretched out one to help you off the stage.

“Oh my gosh, thanks for helping me down. That was like a 20-foot drop. You’re the hero I was holding out for!” You exclaimed as you threw your arms around his neck.

“It’s a stage maybe 3 inches off the ground, but I’ll take the credit I guess.” He pulled back from the hug and grabbed your hand, pulling you back to your seats.

“Oh no, I’m empty.” You pouted when you found nothing in your cup at the table.

“I’ll get us refills. Stay here.” He made his way up to the bar.

You pulled out your phone and opened your texts with Katy,

“OMG KATY THIS REALLY HOT GUY IS GETTING ME A DRINK AT THE BAR. I THINK I MIGHT GET LAID 2NIGHT! 🤪”

“I thought you were at the bar with Shaun?”

“Who’s Shaun?”

Shaun came back to your table and set down your glass.

“Well, hello handsome.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, “Do you come here often?” You leaned your head on your hand, elbow on the table. You were as Katy would describe it to you, “heart-eyeing” him.

“Okay, I’m glad I grabbed you a water.” Shaun chuckled as he took his seat across from you.

His phone lit up with Katy’s contact picture. He answered it, plugging the opposite ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, are you still with (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Who else are you guys with?”

“No one, why?” his question was met with silence, then a loud laugh from Katy.

“HA! No way, she totally texted me that a hot guy was getting her a drink and she was definitely getting laid tonight. When I asked her if she was still with you she said ‘Who’s Shaun’ and proceeded to stop texting me. She thinks your hot and that you guys are hooking up, this is going better than I thought it would when I called in.”

“Shut up, you’re messing with me.”

“Well, what is she doing right now?”

“She’s staring at me and sighing contently… OH MY GOD SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHO I AM!?” Shaun whisper-yelled into the phone.

“Well of course I know who you are silly! You’re the handsome man who’s sitting across from me and I’m the lucky gal who gets to look at you.” You giggled as you continued to stare at him with a sweet, but glazed over, look.

“Oh my god she’s so far gone.” Katy laughed on the other end.

“What do I do? Have you ever seen her this drunk?” Shaun was beginning to worry that you’d had way past your limit and you were about to get really sick.

“Oh yeah, definitely. All you have to do is bring her home and put her to bed. She’ll be fine, I’ve seen her drunker than this and not get sick.”

“Okay, should I make her coffee or something?”

“She’s allergic to coffee genius.” Katy rolled her eyes.

“Right, right. I knew that. Thanks Katy.” He hung up the phone and got up to grab your stuff.

“Hey where are you going?” You pouted as he walked up to the bar to pay the bill

“I’ll be right back, just wait here for me.” You nodded your head and waited patiently for him to come back.

“We’re going to go home now, alright?” Shaun pulled you out of your seat carefully helping you land on your feet. You nodded your head and yawned, stretching your arms over your head.

“Shaun, I’m too tired to walk.”

“Oh, now you remember who I am?” He chuckled, and you gave him a questioning look,

“Of course, I remember you, why wouldn’t I?”

“Well about 5 minutes ago you didn’t, I brought you a water and I guess it cleared your head enough. Come here.” He bent over enough for you to hop onto his back so he could give you a piggyback ride.

“My hero.” You mumbled into his back, closing your eyes as he started walking out of the building.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Shaun shook his shoulders to wake you up.

“Mhmm?” You moaned.

“Where are your keys?”

You sighed and climbed off his back, reaching into your purse, you handed the keys to him. He grabbed your hand and led you up to your porch, unlocking the front door and bringing you inside. He locked the door behind him and picked you up bridal style. Your head lolled into his chest as he carried you to your bedroom. He put you down on the bed, pulling the covers up and over you.

“Shaun…” You let your hand reach up to pull his arm back to you.

“What’s up?” He looked at you with concern.

“Can you help me take my pants off?” You laughed, and he blushed.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” Once he pulled back the covers, he realized why you asked. He hadn’t realized you were still in your dress pants from work. He went to unhook the buttons and slowly pulled them down your legs, tossing them into your hamper across the room. He pulled the covers back up to your chin and laughed as you happily took them and snuggled farther into the bed. He went to leave again but you stopped him yet again, “Shaun…”

“Yes?”

“Will you stay with me?”

“I was going to crash on the couch. I’ll be right outside, holler if you need something okay?”

“No… will you stay in here with me?” You opened your eyes for the first time since you got into your house. You gave him a puppy dog pout that made him melt.

“I can set up some couch cushions on the floor I guess…” he began looking around the floor to find a big enough space for him.

“No… Shaun… just come here.” You pulled him onto the bed and scooted over, pulling the covers over him. He hesitated for a second, body freezing, but when you snuggled your body into his side, he quickly melted under your touch. Not strong enough to fight off sleep any longer.

Shaun sighed as he woke up, he forgot to set his alarm last night. He probably was going to be late for work. He opened his eyes to see an unfamiliar bedding surrounding him. It then hit him that he was not alone. He was holding onto someone. Looking down, he saw your peaceful face resting into his chest. Your breath fanning over him, tickling him. ‘When did I take my shirt off?’ He thought as he quickly realized why it tickled. He looked under the covers slowly, trying not to wake you, ‘When did I take my pants off?!’ He questioned himself in alarm as he realized he was snuggled up to you in just underwear. He slowly leaned up on his elbow to look around them. Your pants and bra were thrown haphazardly towards your hamper and his shirt, pants, and socks laid at the end of the bed. He laid back on his side and looked down at his current position with you. He had his hand resting on your back underneath his sweater. Your legs tangled with his, and your hands cupping under your face that was cuddled up into his chest still. He couldn’t help the giant grin that plastered his face. He’s wanted to be with you like this for years. He’s wanted to be able to hold you close when he wakes up, to be able to kiss your forehead as you wake up, smiling up at him. He’s wanted to feel how soft your skin is, how gentle your lips rest against his skin. He’s got goose bumps all over his body as he realizes just how warm you are. He started rubbing circles on your back, trying to wake you up.

“Mhmm. That feels nice.” You smiled into his skin. You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him, “See, isn’t this so much better than sleeping on the couch?”

“This is way better.” He kissed your hairline.

“I hope you know when I said this is our sweater, I meant I’m never giving it back.”

“You look better in it anyway.” He shrugged, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, getting a good look at you, ‘Oh yeah, way better in it.’ He thought to himself as he blushed thinking about beautiful you were and how lucky he is right now in this moment.

Find more of my work here.

My work is exclusively posted on Tumblr by me, on this blog. If you see my work posted elsewhere, please reach out to me.

Thank you, xx.

[emmyhem]

everything you’re missing (c.t.h)

a/n: hi everybody, i’m back with another post. this is my first calum piece and i’m so excited to finally get it up. this is once again unedited, i’m way too tired rn. it’s also the second smut i’ve posted so that’s pretty exciting as well. yeah i don’t really have much to say right now because i’m literally exhausted, my classes are really kicking my ass. anyway i hope you all enjoy this bff!calum piece. feedback and comments are always appreciated. hope you all are doing well and are being safe. thank you - emmy <33

pairing: bff!calum hood x fem!reader

summary: a drunken text meant for your ex shows up on calum’s phone and leaves him questioning everything he’s missing out on with his best friend.

warning(s): talk of a previous bad relationship, y/n’s ex body shamed her, mentions of alcohol, insecurity, smut, cursing

word count: 4.7k

You’ve decided that 3 glasses of wine is your happy medium, but even a sip into the 4th and there’s no telling what you’ll do. 

So, naturally you were finishing up your 5th glass on Friday night while angrily scrolling through your exes instagram when you got what seemed to be an incredible idea. It was simply too tempting not to, your mind was feeling hazy which made your confidence skyrocket, and you truly did just look good. 

A day of pampering had left you in a black floor length silk robe with nothing but your favorite deep cherry red lingerie set underneath. Your face was bare and glowing after a refreshing and illuminating face mask, and your lips were left glossy and plump from a new scrub. 

You had posed in front of the floor length mirror in your living room, giggling between snaps until you had taken the perfect shot. It was classy but provocative, the dressing gown slipping from your shoulders exposing the lace of your bra and a tasteful amount of cleavage. You had also left the bottom open, allowing a clear shot of your thighs and the curve of your ass from where you sat on your knees. 

With a mischievous glint in your eyes you selected the picture into a message, typing a cheeky, “take a good look at everything you’re missing”  and sending it off to your ex (or so you thought). 

But you really couldn’t be blamed for your mistake, Cam and Cal were far too similar for your drunk brain to decipher the difference. You also couldn’t be blamed for the fact that you dozed off on the couch immediately after sending it, before you even had a chance to recognize your humiliating mistake. 

You were awoken by the ringing of your phone at around 9:00 am, way too early for your liking. Before even registering who it was, you brought the phone to your ear and groaned a sleepy, “hello,” 

“At your door.” a voice you recognized as your best friend responded. 

“M’coming” you said, scooting off the couch. On your way to the door you registered that you were still scantily covered, the robe falling off of you as you walked. You clutched it around you as you swung the door open to a wide eyed, Calum Hood. 

“G’morning.” he smirked, looking you up and down. 

“Shh” you hushed, pulling him in by the arm. “Why in the world are you here so early?”

He lightly laughed while taking a seat at the kitchen table, eyes following you while you moped over to the fridge and pulled out two water bottles. 

“Well,” he sighed as you handed him one. “I got a very interesting text last night and I figured I just had to come over and see, y’know everything I was missing.” he spoke in a teasing tone as he gestured a hand down your body.

You tugged your eyebrows together in confusion. There was something familiar about what he was saying, but not familiar enough for you to put the pieces together. 

“What are you talking about?” you questioned bringing the water bottle to your lips. 

Calum shrugged his shoulders, a smirk still glued to his face as he took out his phone and began looking for something. After a few seconds he extended his arm to hand you his phone. You accepted it and glanced down absentmindedly as your body slumped against the counter.  

The second your eyes hit the screen it all came back to you, your mouth fell open and you straightened out, suddenly very awake, not to mention very mortified. 

Calum on the other hand was buzzing. Actually, he had been ever since his phone dinged last night awakening him from his sleep. Well, buzzing and extremely, extremely sexually frustrated. 

When he first opened your message and saw the picture that would now be making a regular appearance in his wet dreams, he had nearly choked on his own breath. He knew that it was most likely a drunken mistake, and while that slightly saddened him it didn’t stop his dick from plumping up at the sight, straining uncomfortably against his boxers. He seriously debated wanking to the tempting image but decided against it, thinking it would be a gross violation of your privacy since it wasn’t even meant for him. Oh how he wished it was. Unfortunately that meant he had been sporting an exceptionally sensitive halfie since then. 

“Oh my god.” you groaned, sitting the phone down on the counter and covering your eyes in humiliation. “Cal I’m soooo sorry, I was drunk, and overly confident, and I meant to send this to Cam and now I’m just, I’m sorry.” you reiterated. 

‘Hey, don’t apologize on my account.” he countered. “Plus, you should be thrilled you sent it to me and not that asshole, doesn’t deserve ya.” 

“I know, you’re right. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m mortified though. S’bit ridiculous, get a little alcohol in my system and I have a god complex all of a sudden” you rambled, running your hands through your hair nervously. 

Calum stood and pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“You think too much, y’know that?” he quipped. 

You turned your head, pressing a cheek against his sweater clad chest and mumbled, “Yea I’ve been known for that.” 

Calum softly chuckled at your words before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head and pulling apart. 

“S’really no big deal, y/n.” a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Besides I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Calum!” you scolded, swatting a hand at his arm. 

He dodged your hit just in time and held his hands up in surrender before taking his seat again. 

“Why'd you let that dick bother you anyway? Y’know you’re way out of his league.” 

Your jaw clenched at the question, your mind wandering to every time you had come to Calum crying after your ex had done something to hurt you. Everytime he commented on your “stomach pudge” as he liked to call it, when you wore a tight dress to go out. Or when he would ask if you were really “that” hungry, even if you hadn’t eaten much at all. And each time you would feel absolutely wretched and end up sobbing in Calum’s arms, but refusing to tell him why you were so, so sad. 

“He texted me the other day y’know?” you muttered under your breath, while fiddling with the coffee machine. 

“Really? What’d he say?” Calum responded, watching your back with narrowed eyes. 

“Uh, he saw me the other night, when we were at that bar with the guys.” you said, shaky fingers pulling out a mug. 

“And?” he spoke flatly. 

“It’s stupid really,” you sniffled, willing your voice not to break. “He said I put on a few pounds, that he was glad he got out when he did.” your bottom lip traitorously jutted out as you turned to face him. 

“Fucking dick.” he hissed. 

Calum wasn’t necessarily proud of the violent images that flashed through his mind at the thought of that asshole finding yet another way to hurt you but, the sad little quiver of your lip allowed him to reason without a doubt that they were fair. 

Before you could even blink he was holding you again, arms impossibly tight around you. . 

“He’s wrong, y/n. Fuck, I don’t know how to even...he’s just so wrong.” he said softly, his hand rubbing your back reassuringly. 

“I know.” you whimpered, holding tears back. 

He pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, arms still firm around your waist. 

“No you don’t. It’s...It really fucking pisses me off that he makes you feel like this. It’s like-fuck you’re just like-” he moved his hands to cup your cheeks. “You really are gorgeous.” 

Your heart fluttered at his words, and your whole body felt warm as you stared at his big brown eyes. His words felt sincere, everything about him felt so sincere. 

“Thank you, Cal.” 

He pulled you back into his chest, “Really wish I could just, like hug away all his bullshit.” 

“M’used to it.” you mumbled. 

“You don’t deserve any of it.” 

“Yea, well what can you do.” you sighed, moving out of his embrace. 

Calum’s eyes were still glued to you as you stirred a spoonful of sugar in your coffee. 

“I hope you don’t let anything he says get to you.” 

You let out a breath of exhaustion. 

Confidence wasn’t something that you used to struggle with. I mean sure, there were spouts of insecurity here and there but you knew your worth, and you considered yourself pretty, hot even. That had all changed a few months into your latest relationship. First it was the backhanded compliments which quickly turned into passive comments, and then outright cruel insults. People really underestimate the toll their words take on others, especially when the person that’s making you feel so ugly and worthless, is one that you adore and who’s supposed to adore you right back, no matter what. 

“I try but, he can’t just be making it all up.” you were ashamed. When did you become the girl that lets a guy affect how she sees herself? That just wasn’t you. 

“He is. He’s insecure and a douche. He was probably trying to destroy your confidence to the point that you felt like you couldn’t leave him.” Calum assured. “But you’re way too strong for him, dumped his sorry ass anyway.” 

You smiled gratefully at his words, taking a seat next to him. 

“Yea, so strong I tried to send him half naked pictures for reassurance.” 

Calum shook his head, “I wish you could see how hot you are.” 

Your eyes widened at the compliment, your head dropping to avoid his stare as blood rushed to your cheeks. 

“I’d be happy to reassure you whenever you want.” he continued, bumping his knee against yours under the table. 

“Doesn’t count.” you dismissed, before sipping your coffee. “You're my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me I’m pretty.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” he muttered back quietly, his expression dropping slightly. He hated when you deflected his compliments. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel good, and you made it very difficult for him when you blocked every swing he took at the wall of insecurity that Cam had built around you. He would kill Cam if he could. 

You let out an apologetic sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. 

“M’sorry, you’re right. I love you for that, the only thing keeping me sane.” 

Your heart squeezed as he hugged you back. 

Calum was perfect, he was sweet, and funny, and quite literally your favorite person on earth. Not to mention you had been hopelessly in love with him since practically the beginning of your friendship. But as his best friend you had heard over and over just how uninterested he was in a relationship. Everytime you would ask about his love life he would just respond, 

“I’m just not the boyfriend type, m’not cut out for it.” shrugging nonchalantly. 

Which you thought was laughable because anyone would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend, in fact sometimes you would let yourself pretend he was yours. 

Like,in a busy club with his hands on your hips, guiding you through the crowds. So close behind, you could feel each exhale on the back of your neck, as his eyes darted around the room to ensure there weren’t any potential threats to your safety, in the form of drunk overzealous flirts. Or after a night out when he got cuddly and clingy, and would find his way from the couch into your bed. You’d wake up with his cheek pressed against your chest and his arms snaked around your torso as he released soft breaths that caused goosebumps to rise on your exposed skin. You’d let yourself imagine that you had this every morning and that he would wake up any minute to smother your face in kisses and tell you he loved you. And of course, here he was again this morning being so thoughtful and kind and everything you wanted in a boyfriend. And here you were again swimming in his praises and physically having to restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Begrudgingly, you pulled away and stood up. 

“Gonna get changed.” you spoke. 

“I’m making us breakfast.” Calum called as you walked away. You hummed in response and slipped into your room. 

Once in the privacy of your own room you quickly pulled on a pair of leggings and a hoodie before scurrying to the bathroom sink and splashing cold water on your face in hopes of ridding yourself of any romantic thoughts towards your best friend.

Although you weren’t aware, Calum was doing the very same thing just a few feet away. Internally reminding himself repeatedly that it was never gonna happen with you. He wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s boyfriend, let alone yours. You didn’t want him that way and he could almost trick himself into believing that he was okay with that.

You hastily finished brushing your teeth before returning to the kitchen. You were greeted with the sight of Calum’s back, he stood over the toaster cutting an avocado and humming a song you didn’t recognize quietly to himself.  He looked over his shoulder as your footsteps approached. 

“Hungry?” he questioned. 

“You have no idea.” you affirmed, as he fixed a plate for you both. 

“Good. I was thinking we could watch something while we eat,” 

“Fine with me.” you responded, hoping he wouldn’t notice the distraction laced in your voice. Your focus had easily been stolen from the conversation to how easy it was to see his back muscles flex through the thin material of his jumper. 

But of course he did, it was Calum after all. 

“Y’alright?” he said, handing you a plate. 

“Uh, yep.” you rushed out. 

“Not still thinking about Cam, are you?” 

“No, not at all.” you answered honestly, walking to the couch, Calum trailing closely behind you. 

“Then what’s got you all flustered?” 

“You” you thought, taking a seat in the furthest corner. 

“I’m not flustered.” 

“Bullshit” he countered, sitting practically on top of you. 

You let out a huff, and motioned to the other  completely empty side of the couch. 

“Is there a reason we aren’t practicing personal space right now?” 

He laughed softly at your question and nuzzled closer into your side. 

“Yea, you’re all pouty, looks like you need a cuddle.” 

 “I’m really fine Cal.” you shoved him lightly but saw no results, he just scooched in even closer and bit into his toast. 

The two of you sat in silence while some newly released action movie played on your TV. Calum’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders keeping you tight to his side, and although you could’ve sworn that you had been in this exact same position hundreds of times, you felt as if this were the very first time. Every single one of your nerves were on fire and the warmth that had flooded your body was making you antsy. 

Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, you allowed your eyes to flutter close with a deep inhale. 

“You okay?” Calum whispered, dipping his head down slightly to reach your ear.

You opened your mouth to respond but didn’t trust your voice to protrude through your shaky exhales, settling for a subdued nod instead. 

“You sure?” his words were long and drawled out, despite your eyes being closed you knew his proximity from the feeling of his breath just behind your ear. 

Before you could speak up his hand secured itself just above your knee, and your muscles flexed involuntarily at the contact. 

“Relax, y/n” he continued, his thumb beginning to run repeatedly over a spot on your inner knee. 

Everything in your brain was screaming at you to excuse yourself, maybe even kick him out, anything to gain some space and hopefully some clarity from the cloud of sexual tension that was looming over the two of you and blurring boundaries at lightning speed. But you were essentially frozen in place, petrified that any movement would alert Calum to the way he was affecting you. 

Your head lolled back to rest on his forearm which was lying behind you on the couch and finally peeled your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. 

He watched you from the corner of his eye, taking note of every rise and fall of your chest, every thick swallow of your throat. 

If there was one thing Calum was well versed in, it was his ability to read you, he liked to think he knew you better than anyone else in the world. He could tell exactly how you were feeling just by watching you, your face, your breathing and he was more than shocked when he started getting the feeling you were no longer upset but something far more appealing. 

Were you turned on? Right here in his presence? The thought made blood rush to his dick, which twitched in his pants when another breathy sigh passed your lips. 

“What’re you thinking about, love?” 

Everything in you urged you to answer honestly, just tell him the truth. “You, I’m thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.” But you couldn’t do that, so instead you deflected. 

“What’re you thinking about?” you countered, meeting his eyes. 

Calum questioned his next words very carefully, debating whether or not he could recover if he was wrong about what you were feeling and you shut him down. It was pointless though, he knew he would never recover from your rejection. He also knew that spontaneous combustion wouldn’t look very good on his tombstone and that’s exactly what would happen if he spent one more minute not kissing you. 

Fuck it. 

“That pretty little set you had on last night.” he confessed. 

That you weren’t expecting. 

A quiet whine rang from your throat and you were far too affected to feel embarrassed. 

And that did it, Calum was now impossibly hard in his pants, no doubt leaking precum onto his boxer briefs. He needed to get his hands on you, now. 

His hand started to slowly travel up your thigh, goosebumps rising on every centimeter they passed. 

“So gorgeous in red, aren’t ya y/n?”

“Cal,” you hissed when his thumb brushed the sensitivity of your inner thigh. 

“Mm.” he hummed. “It’d be pretty hard fo’me to stop right now, but I will if that’s what you want. Is that what you want, love?” 

He was sure he’d cry if he had to let go of you now, but he needed to hear you say it. 

“No, don’t wanna stop.” you whined, turning your body flush to his.

“Whaddya want then, baby? Hm?” You could feel his every word on the flushed skin of your neck as he leaned into the crook.

“Want you.” 

He could’ve came then and there. 

“Then I’m all yours.” he admitted before crashing his lips on yours. 

Your heart was in your stomach as his tongue entered your mouth, explorative and eager. He was too busy memorizing your taste to notice your fingers tugging at his sweater. You attempted to push it up desperate to feel his skin under your hands. You were able to pull the fabric up about halfway before they were blocked by his arms that were holding you close against him.

Calum laughed when you pulled apart from the kiss, giving him a disappointed look. 

“Want it off?” he teased. 

You couldn’t bother to be embarrassed when you nodded eagerly in response. He didn’t waste any time peeling the fabric off of his skin, and you were quick to lightly run a finger across the ink feather just below his collarbone. 

Now it was his turn to tug on your clothes, “Level the playing field?” 

You nodded, lifting your arms and allowing him to lift the sweatshirt over your head leaving your chest completely bare. Calum groaned at the sight of your tits, his hands quickly finding your waist and tugging you down to lay on your back in one swift motion. 

Once you were laid out in front of him he took the opportunity to explore the new skin. His hands left a lingering warmth as they dragged across your stomach and despite the kind words and endearing demeanor that he always upheld with you, you found yourself shying under his gaze, wanting to curl away from him. As your hands began to wrap around your stomach in an attempt to cover yourself up he quickly pushed them away, locking them in place on either side of you. 

“Wanna see everything baby, all of you.” he cooed in your ear before nipping at the lobe. 

His kisses began to travel down your neck, sucking a few marks to your collar bones and the surrounding areas. When his fingers grazed over a fresh bruise in the dip just between your neck and shoulders you hissed lightly. 

“You look so pretty marked up for me. All mine, aren’t you baby? Not Cam’s, mine. Say it.” 

“Yours, Cal.” you admitted, feeling your body sink further into the couch. You had never felt drunk off of someone’s words before and the experience was leaving you sputtering, completely compliant to your best friend. 

He hummed contently at your confession, his large hands gripping at your hips, before slowly peeling your leggings off.

“Y’feel so good in my hands, like you were made for me.” his thumbs poking at the soft skin, just beneath your panties. 

The feeling of his hands so close to where you needed them, but not quite there was driving you crazy. 

“Cal, please.” you begged. 

He groaned before tugging at the cotton covering you. “Cam’s a fucking idiot, y’know that? He had the prettiest girl in the world and treated her like shit. I’d never do that, wanna worship you baby.” 

It was ridiculous how overwhelmed his words were leaving you, all desperate and squirming. As his fingers met the soaked expanse of your cunt you couldn’t hold back the throaty moan it elicited. 

A pornographic sigh followed close behind, one that made Calum want to pinch himself to ensure he wasn’t in the midst of a haunting dream. 

“Soaked f’me darling.” he mused, running his fingers up and down your folds to completely coat you in your arousal. You whimpered at the feeling, bucking your hips up desperate for friction. 

Tutting while shaking his head, he used one hand on your lower stomach to press you back down to the couch. 

“Stay still for me won’t you, love?” he cooed, continuing to run his fingers over your core lightly. 

When you bobbed your head up and down in agreement he lifted your leg to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your calf. 

“Hm, good girl.” he praised, softly laying your leg back down. 

Calum hovered above you, dipping his head down every so often to peck at your chest, his fingers still unrelenting. The knot in your lower stomach tightened every second that passed and you felt like you could scream at any second, yearning to be full. 

Calum felt like he could burst any minute himself but was determined to make this experience the best of your life. He wanted to give you something to remember, a reason to want more. 

Your soft moans and frustrated grunts alerted him to your neediness and he was just about ready to give in for the both of you. 

“What do you need from me, baby?” he said against your shoulder before peppering kisses across your collar bones. 

You could only respond with an airy moan when his fingers found your clit. 

“Hm? My fingers?” You shook your head aggressively. He knew exactly what you wanted, the tease. 

“No? Want my mouth?” he teased further, leaving an opened mouth kiss in between your tits. 

“Cal,” you sighed. “Fuck me, please.”

He groaned at your words, nipping lightly at the skin before ridding himself of his pants. 

“You’re a fucking dream, y’know that?” he praised, desperately searching for a condom in his pants. When he finally located one he held it up to you as if it were a prized possession, smiling proudly at his own preparedness. 

He hastily freed himself from the constraints of his boxers and rolled the condom on, never once taking his eyes off of the blissful expression on your face. 

“Ready?” he questioned, his tip lightly pressing at your entrance. You nodded and sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for the stretch, your eyes falling closed in the process. 

When a few seconds went by and nothing happened you opened your eyes to find Calum staring down at you in awe. 

“Cal,” you whined. “what’re you doing?” 

Your words seemed to break him from his trance, he shook his head and muttered an apology to you. 

“Sorry, fuck you’re pretty. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” 

“Then stop waiti-” your words were cut off by a sharp hiss that couldn’t have been prevented as his length finally pressed into you. 

“Fuck.” Calum groaned his head falling back. You felt too good around him, seriously he was fucked, completely ruined for you. 

You felt the exact same as your silky moans filled the room. You had never been filled this good and you questioned how you had gone so long without this. 

“M-move” you sighed, clenching around him. 

You could hear his breath catch at the feeling and he grunted out a strained, “Need a minute.” 

He held himself in place for a few more seconds until his breaths began to even out once again before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back in. 

You yelped, pulling your lip between your teeth in hopes to drown the sound. 

He continued slamming into you at an unrelenting pace, taking notice of each time your eyes would roll back when he brushed against your g-spot. He could write a book about how good you looked all fucked for him. 

As his thrusts grew closer together you could feel your release creeping up on you.  

“Cal, need’ta cum.” you stuttered out. 

His hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer to him as his head poked at that spot again. 

“Go on baby, let go.” he encouraged, willing himself to hold out a little longer as your walls fluttered around him. 

Once you had came it only took him about three more thrusts before he was painting the condom with his release, groaning your name as his hand searched for yours to intertwine them as he came down from his own high. 

  His body flopped next to yours on the couch, both of you struggling to fit next to each other in such a small space, not that either of you minded the close quarters. 

Your fingers remained laced together as you caught your breath, Calum peppering kisses to your shoulder and mumbling praises into your skin. 

“You’re an angel. God, I just- I love you.” he said, causing your head to snap in his direction. 

He looked like a deer in headlights when you asked for him to repeat himself. 

“I love you?” he obliged.

“Is it a question?” 

“No, I’m just not used to saying it.” he admitted, vulnerability clear in his eyes. 

You wanted to kiss away the worried crease in his forehead but instead pressed your lips to his, pulling apart a fraction of an inch to speak after a few seconds.

“I love you too.” you ensured. 

Calum eyes widened, not expecting you to say it back, at least not so soon. He had so much he wanted to say to you but figured all of it could be summed up by another kiss to your soft lips. So he closed the distance once again, using a bit more force this time in hopes it would convey the strength of his feelings for you.

[diedbutterflies69]

Drunk in love- Bang Chan imagine.

This is pure imagination. Minors don't interct.

Contains: explicit stuff fingering, blowjob, sex etc.

Red lights mv is the reason for this imagine.

Being alone never bothered you until now. Being alone at a place you don't belong. Sitting in An expensive night club, after quitting your job you decided to have time for yourself and do all the things you missed out so and the sixteenthth goal of your list was drinking in the city's most stunning and expensive club, you decided to get Fully wasted while slurping various wines, champagne, sweet Mimosa etc. but after seeing the price you realised that the one shot of vodka's price was equivalent to your whole month's grocery budget.

So yeah this is how you were struck, with a beautiful woman who gave you rich CEO vibes slightly drunk and was ranting about some buisness stuff you barely knew.

And she was really something else so damn pretty, elegant even her voice was sexy even though you were quite straight you wouldn't hesitate to be her sugar baby cause Money .

You don't understand how a powerful women like her was being so vulnerable infront of you, maybe because you helped her fixing her expensive backless dress, which was on edge of tearing, who didn't expect her to give you such a great treatment and open up to you. It has been 2 hours since you have been with that stunning women, but now you were really tired and was just wished to go to your nest. While being deep in your thoughts that women whose name was Sana (pretty people have pretty name too) her phone ranged .

" hey, your phone is ringing", you said her softly resulting her in giving a whiny look.

" whoever that is calling can suck fuck itself, you hear me , ignore it", Sana said after silencing her phone and again giving you some great intellectual knowledge.

The phone may have vibrated more than 6 times before Sana decided to to pick it and you again knew however was on the other line will be hearing tons of unique insults now ..

"hello, Bang I am absolutely fine and just having drinks with my new found friend, you relax and go, bye" Sana said screaming her lungs out as the music was hella loud. You were quite surprise by how kind she sounded, She called someone Bang as far you remembered , Must be someone special to her you thought.

"who was it? ", You asked her cautiously trying to not appear too nosy. In answer to your question she gave you a big smile and continuing " My little brother, you already know what kind of shit I am going through so he just worried for me, I am lucky right?", While describing her little bro there was a big smile on her beautiful face and yeah she surly was lucky cause the brother you had was a druggist because of whom you used to get really low on money back in days. And now the phone again rung and she picked up guess she really hated how the person on other side of line was feeling.

"Hello again", Sana said her voice really tired and vulnerable. You guessed that person on the other side asked her where she was as she said the club's name next. You really hate this club from the depth of your heart, cause you didn't got any alcohol to taste nor good food. You were bought back to reality As Sana yelled at the person who was on phone.

"I will kill you if you come here", Damn Sana sounded 1999 times more dangerous now and you were scared to death. But a little glad as someone was coming to pick her up and that meant you can go back to your dead apartment too.

"Guess he will eventually come here, I should just get fully wasted than hearing his boring lecture" Sana said after cutting the call , she signalled a waiter to your table and ordering some great quality of alcohol. Yess finally you could too get a little raste too of that sweet paradise drink, you were internally screaming as the waiter bought some nice too good to be true shots. Sana immediately gulping down three shot one after another means she just swallowed your three months grocery.

Now pushing your urge to atleast try one shot, you stopped Sana from getting wasted and distracting . Once again you killing your desires, after about 20 minutes you saw a drop dead gorgeous Man approaching your and Sana's table . That man was wearing an expensive black suit you could feel his intimidating aura even from a distance, his eyes darker than your future, even in those blurry red lights you can easily notice every feature of that hot stranger. You were bought back to reality when that stranger straight up goes to Sana who was little wasted but still sane. You salute her alcohol tolerance level.

" you fine?" The man asked Sana, now you were sure that he was Sana's little bro but you didn't thought by little she meant such a great human with outstanding body proportions. He was so sexy you were internally drowling over that sexy human's visuals.

" You seriously came here? Damn I love my brother so much", Sana said in her voice clearly indicating how drunk she was. She was smiling adorably at her bro but he looked at her with a annoyed gaze.

"get up, let me take you to your house, come", the stranger said and helped Sana to get up from her seat, which made her stumbled and now you clearly knew her alcohol tolerance level was trash, she wasn't able to even stand without any support . Your hands reached her waist in attempt to save her from falling. And that action finally made the man to look at you . your heartbeat increased so much just by his mere gaze at you . And for the first time in night he talked to you.

"who are you", he asked you . Ouch, that was an obvious question to ask but you were disappointed because how boring and uninterested his tone was with you while with Sana he sounded so fuckin caring. But regardless gulping down your nervousness, you replied to him politely.

"umm, I helped Sana slightly and from then we are talking", you knew your explanation was just trash but it atleast made that man realise that you were the 'new found friend' who Sana described on call.

"Okay, can you help me carry her back till parking lot?", The Stanger asked you, his voice now laced up with little gratitude and expectation. You simply nodded your head and wrapped Sana's one arm to your shoulder and helped her walking while that man went to pay the bill.

At parking lot you were standing with a little dead women, while waiting for him , all you saw at parking lot was beautiful and costly cars, something which you won't be able to afford it this lifetime. You never felt this much out of place before. That man's presence bought you back to reality, again feeling insecure as you standed next to Sana. She was a goddess and her brother an alluring devil.

He didn't spoke much to you and simply helped you carry Sana to the Car.

Now, an overdramatic old aged man coming out of car, which you think you knew, her deceased husband's dad, Sana had gave you her whole family history , future and economic information, apparently that old man treated Sana as his own daughter and today Sana lost the lawsuit related to her late husband's death and that was the reason for Sana's mad women behaviour today. That old man looked as Sana and it seemed like he was controlling his urge to cry, but nevertheless got inside the car with her to tired to even thank you.

Now here's when the fun begins. You were left alone alone with that alluring devil. But you sadly knew he wasn't even interested in you even 1 % so you got ready to go back to your nest and started walking until..

"wait!, Let me drop you to your home please", he said and wooow how could you say no to that glamorous offer as it was too late at night to get a bus and too hard to get a cab. You acted like a little hesitant but eventually said yes, as you didn't knew how less time it will take him to take back his offer. Following him to his car And again your jaw almost dropped it was the hottest car you ever seen in your life. And it was honour for you to get a chance to be inside it. The man opened the door for you, you not being sure if he was being a gentleman or to was preventing you to touch his car, but nevertheless you got inside it the temperature was warmer inside the car and the air freshener was doing a great job. He got on driving seat next to you and started driving.

After exiting the parking lot he asked for your address, and you just told him to drop next to bus stop cause the building you lived was apparently more like a abandoned haunted place.

he didn't forced you for further answers and started driving to your direction.

You were lost in admiring the Stranger's car from inside and literally got startled by his deep voice.

"listen, can I please drop you somewhere , your place is too far from here, I need the go somewhere today", he said you and your mood literally dropped, yeah it was true that you lived far away from club it took you 3 hours to reach there in traffic, so swallowing your disappoint you replied.

"it's okay, drop me here only", you didn't knew why your voice was so weak at the moment maybe because you wanted a little bit kindness from that man but he just ruined your every expectation.

"I am sorry, but there is another option too" that man said to when you were getting ready to yeet yourself out of his useless expensive car.

"you gonna call cab for me, no thanks I will look for it " you Said and you didn't expect to sound rude. You thought now that man will now won't hesitate to throw you out of window.

But in response he smiled, for first time in night but his smile a little evil.

"no, I meant you can spend the night at my house", he said voice laced up with nothing but purness.

And your heart stopped. Spending a night at someone else house and that someone was a dangerous devil. You immediately said no to his tempting offer but

"Please,it doesn't make me feel good to drop off a such a fantastic women of my car and you even helped my sister, I should repay your kindness, please.."

You were more than just shocked, whatever he just said was something you least expected, he fucking called me gorgeous you thought and your heart literally flied in the sky.

"no, it's okay please drop me here", you said impatiently, the nervousness kicking you on head.

"Relax, I am not gonna do anything to you, don't be afraid" he said you in such a calm tone fully opposite of his devil like demonor, you immediately melted and tried to consider his offer, his house won't be less than any luxury hotel and you being you..

"are you comfortable, letting a stranger in your house?" You asked him honestly you didn't wanted to make yourself a burden to that man. In response to your question the stranger let out a soft chuckle.

"forget me,are you comfortable being in some Stranger's house?", He asked you with strange curious tone. You honestly didn't knew the answer.

"Yes, I am comfortable, you only told you won't do anything so", your voice coming out softer a little innocent. He smiled at your answer, somehow satisfied.

"So should I take car to my house?", He asked you again, damn you wanted to shout a big ass yes, but suppressed the desire by simply nodding. And so the stranger reversed the car back to his house direction.

"what's your name ?", He asked you, looking at you finally he initiated a conversation.

"Y/N, what's your name?", You asked him.

"Chan", he simply replied.

"nice", you said and again silence. You were a super awkward person and that fact wasn't hided from Chan.

"What do you do for living?", Chan asked after some second and you frowned upon hearing that question.

"I am sorry, if it was too personal", he quickly noticed your behaviour you tried to say something "No, I am just unemployed at the moment and I am writer, yes writer", you replied what you said wasn't completely a lie you used to write some articles back in past but your recent job from which you quitted was at a restaurant.

"Wow, writers are amazing, it's great make people connect to your work", Chan complimented you for something you really didn't did. Still you took it and smiled back.

" your work must be tough sir, balancing off an company ain't easy", you complimented Chan back.

" Sana must have told you about what I do, right?", Chan asked you to which you nodded.

Again silence and in 5 minutes the car stopped infront of a skyscraper.

Rich people really live in sky. You thought.

"here we are", Chan said after opening the door for you and handing off the keys to guard.your neck almost got twisted to see end of the building.

"Done looking?", Chan asked you slightly waving his hand infront your face and damn he was veiny. Having a thing for hands was definitely your thing and Chan must have noticed your hungry gaze on his hands but didn't said anything .

"yeah let's go", you replied and started walking with him.

You both entered in heavantor. And again the same awkward air surrounding you both. Maybe it was sexual tension in Chan's mind which you scrapped off as awkward.

"Do you perhaps... Have a boyfriend?", Chan asked with a little hesitation in his, and for the first time in your whole life you got this nervous, he didn't proposed you but his question was very suggestive.

"no I don't, do you have girlfriend?", You answered and asked back.

"No", Chan answered and again silence.

"why you asked?", You again questioned him

"To know if I can make you interested in me or not", Chan said back a proud smirk dancing on his face and you were dead. He said something bold so confidently your mind pure hazey now.before you could say something the doors of hellevator opened.

"let's go", Chan said immediately getting out like he just didn't almost gave you heartattack. Nevertheless you followed him.

He put on the passcode and you both entered in his luxurious house. The house something you didn't expect. Dark, just as much dark as your future, but it looked freaking classy.

Chan showed you a room, to spend a night, but you noticed how he was holding back from something and as well as you. And you knew it was now or never.

"I am already interested in you, why would you want to make me though?", You asked if you thought it was bold but you stuttered as much as students who gave presentations.

But Chan find it alluring about you. Cliché but, he was too in daze after meeting you. And now finally his wish coming true. He smiled and come a little too close to you.

"Because, I am really interested in kissing your beautiful lips", Chan said , if this line would be came out of any normal guy then it would be to cringy, But Chan was your alluring hot devil and fantasy, someone so beautiful interested in me you thought. you tried to say the first thing that came to your mind.

"Then kiss.. me", You said the last word almost like a whisper , Chan smirked at you, you were literally his ideal type he knew you weren't innocent but ironically you were.

Chan's hand reached your cheek and made you look at him, being too embarrassed you avoided his eyes.

"Look at me, Y/N", Chan almost said as a whisper. Gathering your scattered courage you finally managed to look in to Chan's eyes and his eyes were .. scary.

"I can kiss you, right?", Chan again asked you and you sweared nothing is as hot as consent. You nodded a yes to him.

"Baby, use your words", Chan said the word baby rolled of his tongue so erotically.

"Yes", you said not breaking the eye contract.

"is it okay to Call me sir?", He asked you, now you were dead sure that this man was Kinky af. And you won't be surprised if he had a tons of chain in his bedroom.

"Kiss me, Sir", you said literally feeling so submissive to him. A last smile Chan gave you before his lips touched yours and the butterflies in your stomach exploded. His lips were soft, but the kiss wasn't he sucked at your bottom lip almost painfully and when his tongue entered your mouth, butterflies again exploded, his tongue doing wonders in your mouth , you didn't even knew a kiss so deep, so sensual can happen. With Chan's right hand at back of your neck ,the other one reached down to squeeze your hand in a tight yet sensual grip you finally feeling those veins and the kiss getting more heated.

"let's continue this in bedroom, Chan said after finally breaking the kiss to catch breath, he lifted you up in his arms and it felt so fuckin great, he was so strong even though you were little heavy Chan showed no sign of uneasiness. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and while he carried you to his bedroom, you never felt this much safe in anyone's arms as much as this hot Stranger's.

He put you down while unlocking his door, after unlocking he again carried you and softly laid you down on his grey bedsheets. His room was a mix of grey and blue a little weird but you didn't got much time to explore as Chan immediately started his ministrations on your body. He was a great man who believed in foreplay supremacy.

"Aah", you moaned a little as he sucked at your neck the little sound of yours making his dick painfully hard. He got on his knees towering your frame.

"Can your mouth handle this?", Chan asked you pointing at his memeber and were glad to give him a positive answer. Getting up, you undid his belt and removed both his pants and briefs simultaneously, Chan looking at you like a animal the whole time. The moment his erection was visible to you , you were beyond shock, he was so fucking big he won't obviously fit in your mouth, but you didn't wanted to disappoint Chan so you slowly entered the tip of cock in your mouth going little by little back and forth slowly till it was deep enough to hit the back of your throat. You slightly gagged and that sended shivers to Chan's spin ,to get that feeling again his hand wrapped around hair and detaching you from his cock.

"will you be comfortable, if I go rough?", Chan again asked you , and without any second thought you said yes to him. After being satisfied with your answer, he immediately tightened his grip on your hair and shoved you back on his cock, his tip directly coming in contract with back of your throat and a gagged being heard, you didn't expect him to be this rouf but it was such a turn on for you. You stumbled a little as he was ramming himself inside you hands gripping on to his thighs for support. He wasn't moaning too much but grunting and occasional deep breaths.

"Fuck, you have wonderful mouth babe, so fucking perfect", Chan praised you that resulted in your pussy skipping a heartbeat and encouraging you to go Even deeper.

Your one hand coming in contact with his balls which maybe was his string before cumming. He was grunting too much which meant he was close .

"keep going babe, I am gonna cum inside your mouth, will it be okay?", Chan asked and to affirm him you just increased the speed.

"don't let it fall" , Chan said and after a few seconds he bursted in your mouth, a warm feeling welcoming inside your throat and just as Chan commanded you swallowed it all without letting his seeds fall. After fully empting himself inside your mouth Chan removed his cock from your mouth.

"let out your tongue", Chan commanded you in his breathless voice you immediately following his words. Slowly removing your tongue.

You looked so submissive to Chan, the perfect person to fuck he wished to fuck. Chan spitted inside your mouth, your eyes widen on his sudden such a filthy yet hot action.

"Swallow it, babe", Chan said voice fully filled with lust. You obeyed him without any hesitation, whatever Chan was doing to you made you feel like being on cloud nine.

Chan again made you lie on the matteress , him staring at you from top, ever so submissive. Chan's hand directly reached your Fully clothed breasts his mere action made you whimper, your small little sounds were giving him so much satisfaction.

"so fucking sensitive", Chan said to himself as he his fingers were dancing on top of your breast. To eager to see your naked body, he slightly tilted your body to undo the dress zipper after successfully removing it he undid your bra next. Your breasts immediately being exposed to his eyes and Chan just lost his sanity, immediately slapping your right breast as an instict,. You moaned loudly at the sudden pain but it was pleasurable enough to make your panties wet.

"Do you like it, you like being gropped and slapped ,huh?", Chan asked you and your head in pure haze .

"yes sir I like it", you breathlessly said causing Chan to smirk , he loved to know what kind of effect he had on your body and mind. After twisting and slapping your nipples Chan finally decided to take them inside his mouth and paint them with beautiful marks. You were questioning his real identity at this moment his teeth felt like Some wolf was devouring you but it was damn pleasurable.

You were a moaner even a screamer during sex , which fueled Chan's lust to give you even more pleasure.

Being done with your boobs now Chan's hands reached your most sensitive part. He wasn't really surprised to know how much wet you were down there when his hands cupped your pussy through the panties.

"my baby is dripping, who caused her wetness?", Chans asked you in dangerous tone you just moaned at his words but he harshly slapped your cunt.

"I asked a question, answer it", Chan warned you his sudden rude tone again surprising you you stuttered as you answered him .

"you sir, I am dripping because of you", you answered Chan and he was satisfied. He entered his middle finger inside your pussy with through the cloth, the harsh texture of cloth making you moaned out. He removed your panties and without a warning entered his 2 fingers inside you and twisting them ever so harshly , Chan was a sex God.

And it was just the beginning of night.

Thanks for reading ❤️.

[capesandshapes]

Didn't You Know? (Post Reveal/Pre Relationship)

Summary:

Marinette is sick and realizes that Adrien has a secret to tell her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The music was loud.

Far too loud.

But she knew at the same time that she was drunk, far too drunk; so that might have played a part in it. Adrien sitting at the bar with girls surrounding him—draped on his shoulders and with hands on his knees— might have also played a part in it. Because she’s tired, and sick, and lonely; and he’s there like he always is, waiting to take her home, waiting to take care of her because he feels like it’s his duty.

Because he’s Chat Noir and she’s Ladybug, and he promised one day however many years ago that he would always take care of her. Now she has to live with that. Now she has to live with wanting him, but still not fucking saying it.

And just when her night seems like it can’t get worse, some guy dumps a pint of whiskey on the front of her dress and makes to clean it up, his napkin at the ready to blot it like this totally isn’t some pre-planned thing—

“Oof,” a familiar voice says beside her, placing his sweatshirt around her shoulders before she can even protest and pushing the hands away before the man can try to ‘help’. “Thank you for that, but she’s already taken care of, I think I’m gonna take her home.”

And immediately the guy, some big burly man likely in his thirties, is flinging accusations and acting like he knows everything. “And who are you to do that?” Like he wasn’t just trying to do something awful.

“I’m her husband,” Adrien says, flashing a black and green ring while throwing a cheeky smile over his shoulder as he pulled the two edges of his sweatshirt a little bit closer around her. “Happily married,” he mutters, his eyes softening as they landed on hers and he saw her pull the sweatshirt on to really sell the statement. He leaned forward to zip it up, throwing the man another smile, this one verging on a warning as he placed his hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize,” the man began, blinking as Adrien made to herd her away.

“It’s fine,” Adrien said, his arm around her shoulders and his eyes staying firmly on her. “She’s going home.” In a stage whisper, he added, “you’re sick, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Which was only half because of the other man and half because she actually was sick, and he wanted an answer.

She had been wondering how long she could keep it from him that night, how long she could last dancing with Alya and accepting only water. Now that he knew who she was, Adrien had a way of seeing through all of her other disguises too. Like her telling herself that she wasn’t sick and trying to act like she wasn’t sick.

Even though a small part of her was afraid she might have caught the flu or been suffering from some sign of overwork…

“I’m going to get your coat,” he said, guiding her near the door.

“Are you also going to go and tell more people that we’re married?” She asked wearily, swaying on her feet.

He laughed, leaving a small kiss on her forehead that almost made her cross her eyes. “I tell everyone I’m married; it keeps them from hitting on me and technically I am…” He raised his hand, waggling his eyebrows at her, “married to the job,” he joked. “I’m taken in more ways than one.”

She wished she didn’t laugh, if only because it encouraged that type of thing. As his friend, she shouldn’t have been happy that he was sitting in clubs with his miraculous on his ring finger, turning away girls who could have been something to him. As his friend, she shouldn’t have raised the sleeve of his sweatshirt to her nose as he walked away, smelling the soft cologne that he’s taken to wearing instead of the Agreste branded stuff.

She really sucked at this whole being his friend thing. More so now than ever.

He reappeared with her jacket, her housekeys in his hand. He didn’t, of course, make any moves to replace the sweatshirt around her shoulders, just another addition to the list of many things that would always make her wonder about where she actually stood with him.

Alya always insisted that he liked her and was just waiting for the right time to say anything, but two years had passed since they’d revealed their identities and Marinette had started to doubt that. If it was more than a childhood crush, he would have told her by now.

Then again, she thought as she watched him wait for their taxi, she hadn’t told him.

***********************************

Adrien unlocked her door and hauled her stuff inside, Marinette following closely behind. He reached around her once she was safely inside, closing the door and locking it.

“I’ll stay on the couch tonight in case you need anything,” he informed her. Adrien was often overbearing when she was sick, a trait that he’d picked up from her once she learned that no one was really around to care for him when the boy was sick. It almost became tradition for the man to sleep in her living room whenever she was ill, another reason why she didn’t want him to know.

It was almost painful how much he cared.

That was the problem with the two of them, someday he would get a girlfriend or she would have another boyfriend, and they would tell him how weird this was, that he cared way too much for the young woman and she cared too far beyond reason for him as well. Then it would end.

She didn’t want it to end.

She wanted a thousand different things in her life, like to start her own fashion line and see the world, but she didn’t want Adrien to leave her.

She was in love with Chat Noir. How long? She couldn’t tell you. Before the reveal, probably. Before she knew that he shared those green eyes with the other guy who made her chest feel heavy and her breathing weak.

“You should shower,” Adrien said. “Are you hungry? We didn’t go out to eat this time.”

“I had a microwave meal.”

“You didn’t eat then,” Adrien proclaimed, marching into her kitchen. Ever since he learned how to cook one summer at Nino’s grandparents, he was a storm in the kitchen. He made food for her whenever he could, always watching her closely for her reaction to that first bite. It reminded her of her father in a way, that excitement to watch her experience new things and know that he was responsible.

She sighed, lumbering into the kitchen on exhausted legs and wrapping her arms around his back, burying her face into it and murmuring her thanks. “I love you,” she mumbled, such a common phrase from her that it always just slipped out.

“I love you too,” he stated, his hands wrapping around hers and giving a reassuring squeeze. “You can put on a new one of my sweatshirts when you get out of the shower,” he said, because eventually she had started a whole collection of them without thinking about it.

She nodded, bending over to remove her high heels before traveling further into the apartment. He was already at her feet by the time she’d managed to overcome dizziness and bend over, beginning the process of unbuckling her heels and tossing them aside.

She blinked at him, feeling his soft blond hair brush against her leg and immediately giving into the urge to touch it. Her hand wove through the back of his hair and he pressed a small kiss to her leg as he finished the last shoe, tossing them aside. “There,” he said, smiling up at her.

She really hoped he thought she was red from the fever.

Freed from her shoes, she felt the world blink in and out as she stumbled to her bathroom, turning the shower on cold to combat her fever despite her body’s pleas not to. She practically fell into the shower and she knew that he heard, rushing to the door as quick as possible. “I’m fine,” she called before he could so much as knock, blinking at the mixture of shampoos and soaps before her. When would she finally make room for Adrien to have his own shelf? She shook her head, tempted as always to see if there was some magic in his fifty-dollar shampoo, but settling for her strawberry-scented one instead. Adrien had teased her the last time she’d used anything on his recommendation.

Finally clean, she emerged from the bathroom, walking the short distance in her towel before ending up in her room. “It’s almost done,” Adrien said from the kitchen as she pulled on a pair of joggers and one of his old sweatshirts, pulling her hair into a sad attempt of a bun.

Deeming herself close enough to presentable, she moved back into the kitchen, steadying herself on the wall when he noticed her and his face broke into a smile.

“You didn’t have any chicken stock, so I made leek soup,” he said, gesturing to the bowls, one for her, one for him.

She nodded, grabbing the bowl and moving to the living room, scooting too close into his side when he settled on the couch beside her, flicking on the tv. He threw on the show they’d been watching recently, a bad soap opera about werewolves that had the sets falling apart around them. She let out the softest yawn when the theme music began, sinking further and further into him until he finally finished his food, placing his arm around her.

“When is she finally going to realize that he’s in love with her,” she grumbled. “I mean, they’re dating, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien said, pulling the empty bowl from her lap and pulling her on top of him, the two laying together as the show continued to play. His eyebrows furrowed, concern for the characters showing on his face, “I mean, she has stuff at his place and everything.”

That didn’t mean anything, Marinette had things at Adrien’s place. She had more than one drawer, a whole closet even. “I mean, he said he’s in love with her, right?”

“Yeah,” Adrien agreed. “And they go practically everywhere together, people invite them as a couple.”

“And he sends her all these texts every day of things that she’s into!” Marinette complained. “I don’t know much about love, but that seems like it’s part of it.”

“Mhm,” Adrien agreed, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Thank you for the recipes the other day, by the way.”

“No problem—” she began, and then stopped, her eyes sliding over to him. He still watched the tv with the same expression, not even giving what he’d done a second thought.

“I think he’s finally about to say it,” Adrien stated with a frown. “It’s taken long enough.”

But Marinette couldn’t focus on the show at all. All she could do was stare at him. “You almost kissed me,” she marveled.

He cast her a questioning look, looking over at her just slightly before turning back to the tv. “Do you want me to fully kiss you, or?”

Marinette straightened, using her forearms to jerk back from him, her eyes wide.

He blinked, turning around to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. “Marinette?”

“You kissed me,” she repeated, deciding at the corner was good enough and reaching to touch her mouth with her hand almost absentmindedly, tumbling against his chest in the process.

“Yes?” He said, peeling her off him to look him in the eyes. “I mean, that’s what people do when they’re dating—”

Her mouth fell open.

“Marinette..?”

“We’re dating?!” She yelled, her eyes wild.

He immediately flattened against the couch, looking almost as shocked at the statement as she was. “Marinette, I have stuff at your apartment, you have stuff at mine. I cook for you, we have shows. We watched all of Naruto together. You tell me you love me every day, and I say it back.”

“But that’s—We—” She floundered, almost falling off the couch.

Adrien’s hand caught her. “Marinette, be careful, you have a fever—”

“How long?” She asked, slumping into his hand. “We haven’t even kissed—”

“To be fair, we have kissed plenty of times before and I just assumed—”

“How. Long.” She repeated, and she could see the pure terror grow in his eyes.

“Two weeks?” He said, quickly explaining, “I mean, I sent you that long text about how much I liked you and you sent me back that you would be lucky to be my girlfriend, any girl would—”

She gasped, almost falling backward this time before his hands plastered themselves to the small of her back, the young man sitting up beneath her.

“Marinette?!”

“You’re my boyfriend,” she said loudly. “Oh my god, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He frowned.

“But you tell people that you’re married—”

“As a private joke,” he corrected. “I also tell people that I’m taken, not as a joke.” His hands pulled back from her, his voice almost unsure as he asked, “do you not want to be?”

“Of course, I want to be,” she squeaked. “I mean, that’s like asking someone if they want to be rich, or have a room full of puppies, or cure cancer—”

The corner of his mouth rose in a smirk.

“It’s just that I didn’t know,” she finished. “I haven’t even kissed you. And now I’m sick and I have this boyfriend here to take care of me, and he’s going to sleep on the couch…” Marinette struggled to list everything else wrong.

Adrien didn’t give her a chance.

No, instead he grabbed the side of her face and pulled her down, pressing his lips against hers in a firm, inarguable kiss.

“Well, I don’t have to sleep on the couch…” he said as he pulled away.

[pale-silver-comb]

So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals. 

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong. 

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day. 

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.) 

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.  

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.  

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.  

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon. 

[wiypt-writes]

Sunny Side Up

Summary: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, right? And for Mike, there’s no better way to start it than by eating his favourite thing, ever.

Pairing: Mike Weiss x Reader

Warnings: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Brief mentions of drug addiction- nothing graphic. Language!

A/N: So this was what popped into my head after seeing @imanuglywombat​ post that damned latest Sex Position as part of her downright filthy and wonderful “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “The Special Breakfast”. See here for more information. And you can totally blame @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for this one. I wasn’t gonna write it but…yeah, I did. Sorry not sorry.  I’ve tried to make the reader as non-descript and as inclusive as I can but I don’t usually do reader x fics so I apologise if it hasn’t quite hit the mark.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader.  By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Tagged my permanent tag list.

Main Masterlist

********

“No, that’s not the same, at all.” Mike’s voice drifted up the hallway of you house as you closed the door behind you, shutting out the bitter January wind that has descended over Dover. “Yeah, well they signed up to the terms so....”

You glanced at your watch, it wasn’t even seven-AM yet and he was already on to someone about the current case he was working. But then, that was Mike all over. An addict, only now you were glad to say the only thing flooding his system was adrenaline and passion for his work.

You hung your jacket up on the pegs by the door, unwrapped your woollen scarf from round your neck and placed that over the hook above your jacket and then reached down to unzip you boots, before toeing them off. Your sock clad feet padded down the wooden floor of the hall towards the kitchen and you walked in to see Mike was bent over a file on the island in the middle, already dressed for the office.

“Clause ninety-one, paragraph twenty, sub-bullet two. Yup. We’ll present that to them today, give them chance to respond.” He paused for a moment, his head turning to you, a warm smile spreading across his face as you leaned over for a quick peck before you headed to the fridge for a soda. “Yeah. Okay, no problem, see you about half eight.”

With that he placed the cordless phone down and turned to face you.

“Morning, Baby.” He grinned, before he nodded to the Diet Coke in your hand. “Interesting choice of drink for breakfast.”

“Technically it’s not my breakfast time.” You shrugged back. “More like dinner, I suppose.”

Mike chuckled as he crossed to space towards you, his hands falling to your hips before he bent down and brushed his lips against yours in a hardly there kiss. “Good shift?”

“A heart attack, car accident, two broken legs, couple of flu cases and a shit tonne of idiotic drunks, the finest Delaware has to offer.” You shrugged. “Usual shit.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Dr Y/L/N”

“Lucky for you I do, or we’d have never met.”

“And I’d be dead.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, swallowing a little. The memory of that night almost eighteen months ago was still raw. If you hadn’t stopped by at Mike’s that evening following an argument the pair of you had earlier in the day, you’d never have found him almost dead from an overdose. It had been a long road to recovery, and whilst nothing was ever proven, Mike and Paul were convinced that it was something to do with the safety needle case they had been working. Despite the fact that there was enough heroin in his system to stop his heart, Mike swore blind to you he hadn’t taken anything but a few lines that night, and there was something about the way he said it that made you believe him. And so did Paul.

The authorities never managed to prove anything, but there was one good thing to come out of it. When you had broken down and told Mike how scared you’d been that he was going to die and that you couldn’t cope anymore with the constant fear that one day he would kill himself for real, it gave Mike the final kick he needed because he didn’t want to lose you.

So he got clean. And this time he did it for good.

It wasn’t easy, for either of you. Once he was medically fit enough, Mike had been placed on a programme at a Rehab Centre, whereby he saw no one bar trained medical specialists and councillors for six weeks. It felt like the longest six weeks of your life but he did it. And when you went to pick him up, you instantly burst into tears at how different he looked, how better he looked, how healthy he looked.

The road to recovery is a long one, paved with temptations, you knew that being a Doctor. And whilst Mike knew and understood his triggers thanks to his programme, those temptations met him everywhere, especially because he knew exactly where and how to get his fix. So the pair of you agreed to take a fresh start. You traded Texas for Delaware, the State you were originally from, and you were beyond proud to be able to honestly state that Mike Weiss had been clean now for eighteen months. Well, apart from alcohol that is. But even that was enjoyed in moderation, and to be honest, you’d rather him sit at home with a glass or two of bourbon each night that sticking fuck knows what into his veins.

You cocked your head to one side as his hands flexed on your hip and he gave you a little side smile. “Sorry. Oh, hey guess who I got a call from?”

“Who?” You asked as he stepped back, grinning.

“The Alligator Farm. Snappy’s got himself a lady friend. They’re gonna send me some photos and stuff.”

You smiled, giving up that beloved alligator had been a hard sell to Mike. “That’s great.”

“Yeah. Oh and Paul was thinking of coming over with the family in the spring. I said they could stay here, I know it’ll be a squeeze but is that okay?”

“Course it is.” You reached up to cup his cheek. “It’ll be lovely to see them again.”

Mike smiled and dropped another kiss to your lips, this one slightly stronger before you pat his chest as he rest his forehead against yours.

“I need to go shower.”

“Want me to come join you?” He asked, eyebrow raised and you smiled.

“As good as that sounds there’s something else I want more.”

“Oh yeah?” He grinned, his eyes flickering down to the buttons on your blouse and you laughed.

“Calm down, Stud. I want pancakes and bacon, I don’t give a shit what time it’s supposed to be for me.”

Mike groaned as you moved away from where you’d been stood with your back to the large, stainless steel fridge and headed out of the room. He watched you go, the gently sway of your hips in your well fitted black pants made his groin twitch. He was half tempted to fuck your demands and go and jump you in the shower whether you wanted him to or not, but he’d seen the flicker your face had given when you’d described how your twelve-hour shift had gone down. Despite your blasé tone, he knew you too well and understood exactly how tired and stressed you were feeling. So, instead, he turned his attention to making breakfast.

Something he prided himself on was his cooking ability. He’d picked it up pretty fast since you’d moved here, he found it was a welcome distraction, so much so you very rarely made meals now, bar when you insisted on doing a roast which he never argued against.  Within fifteen minutes he had a stack of pancakes, bacon, eggs- sunny side up, as you preferred- all laid out on the island and ready for you to help yourself to. He’d just poured you an orange juice when you walked back into the kitchen, hair piled on your head in a messy bun, wrapped in a dressing gown and he was pleased to see you looked relaxed.

“Oh, Mikey, this looks great!” You smiled as he wrapped an arm round you, kissing your head. He watched as you helped yourself to a huge plateful before making your way over to the table and sitting down with a sigh. Mike tucked his tie into his shirt to avoid it dropping into his food and plated himself a helping up before he sat down at the place next to you, cracking his neck slightly. The pair of you chatted about the day ahead, which for you consisted of sleeping until it was time to get up for your next shift, Mike’s contained a meeting with a company who he was currently in the process of negotiating a settlement with on behalf of a client. When you’d finished, Mike made to clear away the dishes but you gently placed your hand on his arm and stood up, insisting on doing it as he’d cooked.

When you returned to the table, Mike pushed his chair back slightly and patted his knee.

“Come ‘ere.” He smiled softly and you grinned, settling yourself on his lap sideways, your arm looping round his shoulder, fingers gently playing with his suspenders. He gave a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your head, happy to simply be close to you for a moment.

“You doing okay?” You asked and he smiled, your words carrying that hidden meaning- ‘Do you want a fix, today?’

“I’m good, Babes.” He pulled back to look at you. “I promise.”

Smiling you gently placed your lips on his in a soft kiss, which soon became heated as Mike’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. He was pleased when you reciprocated, opening your mouth slightly to allow him in. He could taste the sweetness of the syrup on you from your pancakes and, as your tongue gently swirled against his, he let out a little groan from the back of his throat and he felt you smile.

“How long till you have to be in the office?” Your voice was lower than you’d intended, betraying exactly what you had in mind and Mike grinned at you, pulling back a little, as he glanced up at the clock.

“Just over forty-five minutes, why?”

You bit your lip, fingers toying once more with his suspenders which were clipped to the waistband of his light, grey trousers and sat over a maroon shirt, set off with a black tie. “Do I gotta spell it out to you, Weiss?”

“No, I just like hearing you beg.” A cheeky glint flashed in his eyes and you gave a snort.

“I do not beg.”

“Really?” He arched an eyebrow and in a swift moment he stood up, causing you to give a shriek of a giggle as he sat you on the table in front of him. “I bet,” he pushed on your shoulders causing you to rest your weight on your elbows as he loomed over you, gently reaching for the tie on your robe, “that I can have you singing my name and begging for more,” his hands made quick work of the knot and pulled it open, before his fingers slid up the front, opening it to leave you bare in front of him, “in less than five minutes flat.”

“Less than five minutes?” You looked up at him, his eyes blown with lust and you smirked. “You’re so full of shit.”

He wasn’t though, you knew full well that you were the one full of shit. Mike had on many an occasion had you crying his name in less time than it took you to sing a verse of the National Anthem, and he knew it as the cocky expression on his face showed.

“Oh, Baby Girl.” He chuckled, bending over, his mouth brushing against that spot on your neck, the bristles of his short beard scratching your skin. “Have you learnt nothing, yet?”

“Only that you’re a cocky little bastard.” You tried to keep your voice level but it didn’t work. Your words came out a shaky whisper as one of his hands gently splayed on your stomach and brushed up your body to your sternum as he peppered hot, opened mouthed kisses across your collar bone, before his lips ghosted up your neck, over your chin and his mouth claimed yours in a searing kiss as his hand palmed at your breast. As he rolled your nipple between his finger and thumb you gave a moan and he smirked against your mouth.

Suddenly, he was gone from over you and you frowned, missing his sudden presence and you propped yourself up on your elbows to see him settling back in the chair by the table.

“Mike, what the-“

You were cut off as he reached over, grabbing your ass and hoisting your pelvis up, pulling you towards him. Before you could register what was going on, your legs were over his shoulders and you just caught a glimpse of his face, as he quirked an eyebrow at you, lips curled upwards in that maddeningly smug bastard grin, before his mouth was trailing up the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, Jesus.” You let out a little groan as he neared the place you now desperately wanted him and he chuckled.

“No, just me.”

“Fuck off you-“ But whatever it was you were going to call him flew from your mind as his tongue licked up your sex, and grazed against your clit, teasing it with quick, hardly there flicks which, you were ashamed to say, had you riled up something feral. His hands palmed at your ass, his fingers curling round the outside of your thighs as he quickened his movements, his mouth expertly devouring you, tongue flicking into your entrance as his lips circled that sensitive nub, giving a suck that made you cry out, your back arching off the table, pushing yourself further onto his face.

Mike let out a chuckle which vibrated exquisitely against you and you gasped again, your hands slapping onto the cool surface of the table, fingernails feeling the grain of the wood as he upped his efforts dramatically, lips and tongue teasing you in a way that was so delectable it was teetering along that fine line between pain and pleasure. His mouth expertly devoured every inch of you, from your inner and outer pussy lips to the depths of your walls, tongue fucking you like you he was starving, despite the breakfast the pair of you had eaten moments ago.

“Fuck, Mike, I need…” Your voice was croaky, the words sounded far off as they bounced around your lust addled brain and once again he chuckled.

“I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah you arrogant sh-oooh fuck!” You cried as he gently nipped your clit. “Shit!”

You were willing yourself to remain grounded, wanting to prove him wrong but you couldn’t. You couldn’t fight the urge you felt to ride over the edge which was building like a fire inside you. When his mouth was over you completely once more, tongue deep, you felt him move one of his hands and his thumb pressed against your clit, before the pressure eased off and his tongue slipped away.

"Okay, okay you win, Mike, please for the love of God!” You groaned and with a final, maddeningly smug chuckle he dove back in, only this time when you felt your orgasm brewing he didn’t stop. One of your hands flew to his hair, pulling lightly on his soft, spiky strands and he gave a growl as you tugged, his efforts doubling once more as his beard scratched against your sensitive pussy and inner thighs. The coil in your belly was tightening, your entire body quivered and with a final flick of his tongue you gave a cry as your orgasm crashed over you. Your toes curled into his back just below his shoulders, your own back arched as your walls clamped down over nothing, the room fading out as everything went silent and the lights erupted in front of your eyes, your entire body feeling like you were floating.

Mike grinned, guiding you through your release before he stood up, pulling you further to the end of the table as he undid the flies on his trousers, freeing his painfully hard erection. The swollen head of his dick gently swirled around your folds before he buried himself inside you, groaning as he felt you fluttering around him in the after throes of your orgasm. You let out a low groan and finally opened your eyes, looking up at him as he pounded into you, fully clothed, those fucking suspenders that drove you wild still looped over his shoulders.  

He slid one, large hand under your back and pulled you up causing you to cry out as he drove deeper into you, his hand on the base of your back pulling you up and towards him as he dipped his head to give you a dirty, sloppy kiss whilst he rolled and thrust into you. Then His lips moved down, nipping at your neck, his breath hot on your ear as your head fell back, a low moan rumbling in his throat.

“God, I love seeing you like this, fucking wrecked all because of me.” His panted words made you groan even more as the heat in your groin was beginning to mount again. “Makes me higher than any fucking drug ever could.”

His thrusts continued, hard, deep, and you felt his dick throbbing inside you as he drove up against your spot, his lips back on yours as he kissed you hard, swallowing the pants and whimpers you were making as you began to teeter on that cliff edge again. With a deep roll of his hips you let out a low wail and came, once more, your core spasmed around him as your entire body tingled, and that was enough for him to follow you. With a powerful thrust he stiffened, a low grunt stuttering from his lips as he pulsed inside of you, his hips growing sloppy before they stopped completely. His chest heaving, he pressed his forehead to yours, the pair of you gasping for breath as you came down from your high.

“Shit, Mike.” You managed to stutter as he grinned, his lips meeting yours in a soft peck. “That was…”

“Yeah, I was pretty good.” He chuckled and you slapped his arm as he moved and pulled out of you. You straightened your robe and stood up, wincing as you felt his release trickled down your inner thigh.

“I need another shower.” You grumbled, before you glanced at his crotch, the damp patch where he’d pressed against you was clear as day. “And you should probably change your trousers.”

Mike glanced down before his eyes met you, and he shrugged. “Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll go into the office like this and then every time I see it I’ll be reminded exactly what a damned good breakfast I had this morning.”

You blinked before you shook your head, scoffing. “You’re gross.”

He laughed. “You love it, Sweetheart.”

“I love you.” You corrected, your hands sliding up over his shoulders and he smiled, a pure, innocent smile that made him look like a schoolboy before he took your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, pulling away, his nose bumping against yours.

“I love you too.” He whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “Now go, before I decide to play hooky for the day.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Weiss.” You smirked, before with one final quick peck you left the room.

Mike watched you go, before he ran his hands through his hair and turned to glance around the kitchen, his eyes falling to the table he’d just fucked you senseless on.

He should probably clean that before he went to work…

[xiaomoxu]

Lucien - Intimate Date

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler. Happy Qixi Festival~

Translations under the cut~

-

Whistle: Speaking of which, Mr. Lucien...

When the "whistle" spoke, I did not hear him clearly. He had to knock the steering wheel twice before I came back to my senses.

MC: Yes, what are you talking about?

Whistle: I said that this mission goal is rare to invite you to travel with. You must seize the opportunity and strive to completely gain his trust.

Whistle: You must record his destination, what he ordered on the train, and who he met.

MC: Yes, I remembered it.

My answer seemed to make him dissatisfied, and he looked at me warily through the rearview mirror.

Whistle: MC, It can't be... Are you tempted by that Mr. Lucien?

With a stern expression only face, I sat up straight up steeply.

MC: What are you kidding about, how can I be tempted by that kind of person?

Whistle: Hmm, you just have to know it.

There was no more words in the carriage, and the car continued to drive towards the train station. Looking at the bustling city outside the window, I tightened my lips.

How could I be tempted by Lucien?

If there is someone who fascinates me, it should...

I lowered my head and glanced at the book in my arms.

"Awakening" Snow fox.

ㅡThis "Snow Fox" who can guide me and give me strength first.

The first time I read Mr. Snow Fox's article, I seemed to be drunk, and all the confusion and perplexity I had been dispelled.

He used his pen as a knife to attack injustice and pave the way for peace.

He is a lonely walker with a torch in his hand, walking in the long dark night.

I am a small streamed firefly attracted by the hot flame, chasing this light silently.

Finally, with all efforts, I joined the organization of Mr. Snow Fox

Although I haven't seen his true face yet, but he once asked someone to forward me a book to encourage me.

MC: You are shimmer, you want to hide under the darkness.

I opened "The Awakening" and mumbled out a line of text on the title page—this was also a personal message from Mr. Snow Fox to me.

MC: I will never disappoint Mr. Snow Fox.

The car stopped by the train station, I put the book back in the secret compartment of the suitcase, and carefully sorted out my cheongsam.

The Whistle opened the door for me.

Whistle: For the last, check the mission target situation again.

MC: Okay.

Whistle: Who is your goal?

MC: Lucien.

Whistle: Who are you?

MC: Lucien’s blind date, which is a rich lady who has lived abroad since she was a child and returned to China for less than half a year.

Whistle: Your task.

MC: Monitor Lucien and find out his purpose of leaving Loveland City this time.

Whistle: Very good. One more thing, if there is a suitable opportunity in this trip...

Whistle: Kill him.

MC: Assassinate Lucien?!

This order was a little unexpected, and I couldn't help being taken aback.

Didn't the previous organization say that Lucien maintains the balance of the Loveland market and asks me to focus on surveillance and not to move?

MC: Why did you suddenly kill Lucien? Was it a temporary decision by the organization?

Whistle: What do you ask this for?

MC: Because this is contrary to my previous actions, so I want to confirm again...

Whistle: This is a private order from Mr. Snow Fox.

MC: Mr. Snow Fox...will give me a private order?!

My eyes widened in surprise, and when I wanted to ask a few more questions, a horn suddenly interrupted our conversation.

At the intersection not far away, three black cars approached us one after another.

The black goat logo on the front of the car was plated with a dazzling silver in the sun, like the cold light on the tip of a knife.

The original noisy street became extremely quiet, and only the tires made a slight rubbing sound on the ground.

The convoy drove slowly across the road, and after such a long distance, I still saw the clear profile face of the mission target in the car window at first glance.

It’s Lucien.

Whistle turned his face and saw Lucien's motorcade, and he frowned.

Whistle: You don't need to be too nervous, I will pretend to be an ordinary tourist at the next stop and sneak into the third-class carriage to meet you.

Whistle: Remember what I just said, once you find the opportunity to do it, use the transmitter in your suitcase to contact me.

Whistle: Okay, it's time to play, Miss MC.

MC: Mmhm.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car with a small suitcase.

The door of the middle car across the street also stopped at the same time. A group of black subordinates lined up, and one of them opened the door.

The first thing that catches my eye is a hand holding a cane. The fingers are white and slender, and the nails are neatly trimmed, like the hands of a literati.

Only the thin calluses at the knuckles indicate that this hand can hold a pen or a gun.

The owner of the hand, leaning on a jade cane, stepped out of his right leg first.

With his figure, it may be more suitable to wear a slim dress, but even if the gown is tightly wrapped, you can still see the straight and slender legs.

The silk gown bends like flowing wrinkles between his knees, and the dark lines on the satin surface reflect the shimmering light as he moves.

He raised his other hand again, took a trilby from the hand of his respectful subordinate and put it on his head.

In the silence, Lucien got out of the car slowly.

It was so quiet all around, it seemed that he was the only protagonist of this silent film.

And after Lucien's gaze slowly looked around, he finally stopped at my face across the street at this moment.

In an instant, his indifferent eyebrows were stained with the temperature of the early morning, and the lip line also bends in a pleasing arc.

Lucien: MC.

MC: Mr. Lucien

Obviously his appearance is so harmless, three points gentler than the teacher in the school.

But when I think of the rumors about this "Mr. Lucien" in the market, I still can't help but feel a palpitation.

He held back his subordinates and walked towards me with a smile.

Lucien: Sorry, did you wait for a long time?

MC: Fortunately, I also just arrived.

I took a step forward, trying to maintain my innocence and asked

MC: Mr. Lucien, where are we going this time, why would you think of inviting me with you?

Lucien: What we are going to is a very beautiful place. As for why I brought you...

Lucien: I think a smart girl like you shouldn't be surprised.

MC: You praise me like this, I'm so embarrassed.

MC: Now that Mr. Lucien decides to keep the sense of mystery, I will keep looking forward to it.

I reddened my cheeks pretending to be shy, but my heart was beating wildly because of the other party.

Whistle hurried to the trunk to help me take out the luggage, and Lucien also leaned down and naturally took the suitcase from me.

Then he straightened up, smiled and stretched out his other arm to me.

Lucien: Let's go.

MC: Okay.

I happily wrapped his arms, leaned my body against him-and walked towards the train station.

There is still a short distance from the start of the train. As VIPs, Lucien and I have already arrived in the luxury carriage in advance.

And after the whistle sent my luggage onto the train, he left immediately. Before leaving, he didn't forget to wink me a warning.

Lucien leaned on the sofa. He glanced at the back of the whistle through the window and whispered.

Lucien: Miss MC, your driver...

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien.

The subordinate's knock on the door interrupted Lucien's words, and he frowned slightly.

Lucien: Come in.

The subordinate walked in quickly and whispered something in Lucien's ear.

I tried to prick my ears, but I could only hear a few scattered words-"clue", "check", "eradication"....

While listening, I calmly poured myself a cup of scented tea.

As Lucien listened to the report of his subordinates, the corner of his mouth moved.

Lucien: Don't worry, continue to follow him.

Subordinate: Did you mean...

I don't know if it was my illusion, Lucien's eyes seemed to turn to me.

Lucien: If you want to do it, do it thoroughly.

Lucien: After all, an excellent hunter wants to lure the "Snow Fox" out of the hole, and it can't do without enough delicious bait.

Snow Fox!

Suddenly hearing these two words, my fingers trembled, and the scented tea almost spilled from the cup.

Lucien: Miss MC, what's wrong?

MC: No, nothing, my finger was accidentally scalded by the teacup for a moment.

Lucien: Let me see.

MC: It's okay, it's just hot.

But Lucien had already held my hand, his strength was very light but I couldn't refuse it.

The cool fingertips rubbed my red fingertips, bringing out an ambiguous itching.

He observed it carefully for a while and saw that there was nothing serious, so he pulled a white silk kerchief from his arms and wrapped it around my finger.

Lucien: The walls of this porcelain cup are relatively thin, so you will remember to put something on your hand next time you drink hot tea.

MC: Alright, I remembered it.

Lucien smiled at me, and lightly shook my fingers wrapped in the kerchief.

When he spoke again, his words were directed to his subordinates.

Lucien: Follow the previous plan. I hope to hear some good news when I get to the station.

Subordinate: Yes Sir.

At this time, the sharp siren finally sounded, steam gushing out, and the steel wheels began to move forward steadily.

The people on the platform waved their hands, saying their last blessings and goodbyes to their loved ones, lovers, and friends.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, there is also the persevering cries of newsboys, one after another, like cicadas in the late summer, so ear-piercing.

News Boy: Sell ​​newspapers! Take a look! Mr. Snow Fox's new work "Dark Night Flame" is on the market!

--

Before I knew it, I had been on this train for three days.

During these three days, I was not restrained and could walk around in the train at will. The scenery on both sides of the train was beautiful, and the companion accompanying me was considerate and gentle.

If it is said that the only flaw is that there is still no intelligence.

MC: Lucien...

This man is indeed too perfect and too tricky.

I sighed and looked at the figure on the platform unconsciously from the gap between the curtains.

The train will stop next to a small station, and Lucien is talking to the owner of the food stall, he looked gentle and humble.

He paid the money and was about to return to the car with the paper bag. Suddenly, a boy with a cart next to him slammed his feet and slammed forward, exclaiming.

Seeing that the cargo is about to collapseㅡ

Lucien's eyes were quick, and he held the cargo box with one hand and the boy with the other.

Lucien: You all right?

Boy: You are?! sorry! sorry!

When the boy saw that he almost hit a noble person, he trembled with fear and apologized again and again.

Lucien: Don't be so nervous, you didn't hit me either. Go ahead.

Boy: Thank you sir, thank you sir!

The cargo boy ran away without looking back, pushing the front of the car.

-It seemed like a small accident, but from my perspective, I clearly saw the cargo boy quickly stuffing a note into Lucien's hand when he left.

Why did Lucien use this method to deliver messages?

I watched Lucien's calm and composed face, and suspicions gathered in my heart. I raised my head  and met his gaze.

MC: ...!

I drew back abruptly, avoiding his sight.

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien?

Lucien: Nothing, go up, don't let the kids wait in a hurry.

After a while, Lucien appeared at the entrance of the carriage. He smiled and raised the paper bag to me as if nothing happened just now.

Lucien: Today is Chinese Valentine's Day, there happens to be a fruit seller in the station, wanna try it?

MC: Huh, today is Qixi Festival?

I couldn't help but froze. The spirit has been tense recently, but even the days have been somewhat forgotten.

Lucien: No wonder you forgot, it was my fault that kept you in the train for too long.

Lucien: But it doesn't matter if you forget these festivals, I will help you remember them.

When he made a promise, his brows were dazzling and his tone was solemn, as if he really was a caring beloved.

Lucien sat next to me and handed me the paper bag.

The small and lovely fruit inside exudes a fragrance, I picked up one and said with a smile to Lucien.

MC: "Begging every year is a coincidence in the world, and there are too many inhumanity in the world", my pleasure.

MC: Hmm... delicious!

MC: Mr. Lucien, do you want to taste it?

With a smile, I picked up another dessert and handed it to Lucien's mouth. He fixedly stared at me for a moment and bit it with a smile.

MC: How is it, isn't it delicious?

Lucien: Well, this is the first time I have eaten this kind of dessert. It is sweet and slightly salty, with a crunchy texture, and it tastes really good.

Lucien: What makes me even more happy is... You really like the taste of this hometown.

He just bit the word "hometown" a little bit harder, and it made my breath stagnate.

MC: I don't understand what Mr. Lucien's words mean.

Lucien: I remember that Miss MC who came back from studying abroad. Both your parents are abroad, right?

Lucien: It just so happened that my subordinates went to a country where Miss MC's parents, so I asked him to inquire a little bit.

Every time Lucien said a word, he leaned forward by a point, and the distance between us was closer.

His breath was burning, with the sweet fragrance of fruit, but it caused a chill in the back of my neck.

Lucien: In his reply to my telegram, he said...in the local area, there has never been such a family.

Lucien: So, Miss MC.

His hands are still cold, and when it touch me, it's like touching rare fragile objects.

His fingertips went from my brow bones, to eyelashes, to cheeks, and finally gently twisted away the fruit crumbs from the corners of my lips.

Lucien: Can you tell me who you are?

Silence flows between us. The train has not started yet. What can be heard is the shouting of the platform not far away, as well as the breathing and heartbeat close at hand.

As Lucien's breath enveloped me, there seemed to be a flame igniting in the place where he had just touched. I bit my lower lip and tried not to shift my sight.

MC: Is the answer to this question important to Mr. Lucien?

Lucien: Of course it is important.

MC: Why?

My question made Lucien raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Lucien: Haven't you noticed MC? You are a very important person to me.

MC: Haha, Mr. Lucien's words really flatter me.

tugged at the corners of my mouth stiffly, but my mind was spinning.

What does Lucien mean by "not found"? What does "very important" mean?

How much did he find out about my identity?

With Lucien's ability, as long as he catches any slight loophole in my words, it will be enough to destroy everything.

No, I can no longer answer any questions from Lucien.

It just so happened that the train whistle sounded again, and I put my hands behind me and pretended to pull the tablecloth inadvertently at the moment the train started.

The tea cup on the table swayed twice and poured in response. The remaining tea in the cup was spilled on me and Lucien.

I took the opportunity to sit up, lowered my head to help Lucien wipe his clothes, and apologized to him again and again.

MC: Oh, Mr. Lucien, I am sorry!

Lucien looked down at the tea stains on his silk shirt and smiled.

MC: I'm okay, but you have water stains on your body, so go back and clean it up.

As a pardon, I nodded and left immediately.

Lucien: By the way, I asked the train restaurant to prepare a candlelight dinner tonight, and I hope Miss MC will appreciate it.

MC: With Mr. Lucien's invitation, I will definitely be present in full dress.

Lucien: I believe MC, no matter how you dress it up, it will look good.

Lucien lifted the teacup on the table, seemingly inadvertently added another sentence.

Lucien: After all, such a good day as Qixi Festival cannot be easily let down.

I was sent back to my car by Lucien's subordinates. The moment I closed the door, I felt my strength slip away and plunged into the mattress.

MC: (sighed)

Being vigilant all the time makes me exhausted physically and mentally. Only when I’m in my car, I can breathe a sigh of relief.

My identity will be revealed sooner or later, and once exposed, would Lucien behave like a merchandiser who is pushing goods, showing me a touch of kindness?

Do I really have a fluke with Lucien like the whistle said?

I opened my eyes and slowly spread out my palms.

In the palm of my hand is the little note I just stole from Lucien.

There was a line written on it: Snow Fox is in the car, be careful.

At the moment when I saw these words, all kinds of scenes flashed past my eyes quickly.

Lucien: After all, an excellent hunter wants to lure the "snow fox" out of the hole, and it can't do without enough delicious bait.

Lucien: Haven't you noticed that you like ink? You are a very important person to me.

Could it be that... Lucien discovered that I was an organizer and wanted to use me as a bait to draw out the "Snow Fox"?!

Since this is the case, should I act first to be the best-obey Mr. Snow Fox's order and kill Lucien.

Snow Fox , Lucien...All the emotions in my heart are like a tangled mess. I can't help but reach out to the suitcase by the bed.

Across the wall of the box, the "Awakening" lay quietly there.

After a long time, I took a deep breath, sat up from the bed, and started preparing for the action tonight.

I first took out the wireless transmitter hidden in the suitcase and told the whistle that Lucien and I would have dinner in the dining car tonight.

Then quickly took off the pink dress and put on a purple cheongsam. Opened the secret compartment of the suitcase, took out a pistol from the inside and tied it to my thigh.

While putting on makeup, there was a knock from a subordinate outside the door.

Subordinate: Miss MC, Mr. Lucien is already waiting for you in the restaurant.

MC: Got it, tell Mr. Lucien that I will be there soon.

I put the lipstick back in the box and was about to get up when the light from the corner of my eye suddenly swept over something on the table.

It was the white handkerchief Lucien wrapped around my finger when I lied about being scalded.

When I returned to the car, I put it on the dressing table and didn't move it again.

Lucien's handkerchief is as simple as his clothes, and there is no other pattern except for the embroidered mark of his name on the corner of the handkerchief.

The moment I saw the handkerchief, Lucien's abrupt eyes suddenly appeared in my mind.

Why does a rumored "Mr. Lucien" who is obsessed with power and cruel, has such a pair of calm and sober eyes?

Obviously in my imagination countless times, only the "Mr. Snow Fox" in my mind would have such eyes.

MC: Mr. Lucien... is it really just Mr. Lucien?

I was shocked by the nonsense that I blurted out, and I took a step back abruptly.

I was a little flustered inexplicably. Just about to put away the handkerchief, my fingers suddenly felt strange bumps on the silk surface.

MC: Hmm??

I looked down and found that beside Lucien's name, there was a Morse code embroidered with silk threads of the same color.

I held my breath and fumbled for the code with my fingers, and finally found that they formed a words.

MC: My shimmer?

The setting sun outside the window was sinking, and the fluent sunset glow was gradually replaced by the night.

The lights are lit on each train, and the train shuttles through the mountains and forests like a golden dragon.

When I arrived in the restaurant, Lucien was still writing a letter at the table by the window.

When he saw me, he put away the half-written letter and smiled at me.

Tonight, instead of wearing the daytime gown, he changed into a slim-fitting suit, and his temperament became more capable and chic.

MC: Sorry to let Mr. Lucien wait for a long time.

Lucien: Compared to Cowherd who can solve the pain of lovesickness only once a year, I only waited a while for "Little Weaver Girl", considered to be very lucky.

Lucien: Have a seat

He opened the table seat for me, and I took a seat happily.

Lucien: How have you been on the train these days?

MC: Mr. Lucien seems to ask me this every day.

Lucien: Do you think I'm long-winded?

MC: No, this is your thoughtfulness, I like it very much, and I have had a good time these days.

MC: Even too comfortable, I don't want to get out of the train

Lucien: This is bad.

MC: What's wrong?

Lucien: After eating this dinner, we are almost arrived at the station. If MC don't want to get off the train, I can only use other methods to get you off.

I quickly glanced at the closed door of the dining car, settled, poured a glass of wine, and continued to laugh with Lucien

MC: What other method does Mr. Lucien want to use?

Lucien: It depends on what approach Miss MC likes.

MC: Me, of course I want more....

Before I finished speaking, the ground suddenly shook! A hot air wave overturned the railroad tracks and hit the carriage!

Before I had time to react, I felt like the sky was spinning.

The next second, I fell into a warm embrace.

Lucien: Ugh...!

Lucien held me firmly in his arms, but his whole body was knocked to the ground by the air wave.

The world in the carriage was upside down, and Lucien's letters and official documents on the table were scattered all over the

The ornate decorations turned into fragments, and the wine in the glass was spilled on the brocade like drips of red blood.

The disaster came without warning, and the steel giant leaned on the rails, uttering a heavy mournful cry.

I turned my face to look at the mess on the ground. The crying and screams from the front and rear carriages made my brain go blank.

MC: What exactly is going on...

Lucien: The train was blown up. It should be coming for me.

Lucien took me up with one hand, and with the other hand drew the pistol from his back.

The explosion plunged the train into chaos, and Lucien's subordinates was at the other carriages and it was too late to arrive.

He turned around and looked at the exit of the carriage warily, while admonishing me.

Lucien: MC, If the other party wants to cut the grass and roots, it is estimated that they will take the opportunity to return to the restaurant to confirm my life and death, you have to be careful....

The words after were swallowed back, because a gun was hitting his abdomen at the moment.

MC: Don't move.

Lucien's gaze moved up from the muzzle a little bit, fell to the hand of my gun, and finally stopped on my face.

For the first time, his eternally calm eyes rippled, and his lips opened slightly, and then he pressed tightly again.

In the next second, a smile suddenly appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Lucien: Miss MC wants to kill me.

Lucien's somewhat helpless expression made me feel embarrassed, as if I was just a little girl making trouble with her lover unreasonably.

MC: Why are you laughing?

Lucien: Nothing, the other side of MC really surprised me and couldn't help but laugh.

I glanced at him and opened his tie with the muzzle of my gun.

Then freed his other hand and groped his waist and chest roughly to make sure that there were no other weapons or wiretapping on him.

And Lucien opened his hands very cooperatively, as if he was at my disposal.

After searching, I glanced at the door again before turning my gaze back to Lucien.

MC: Mr. Lucien, before killing you, I want to ask you a question.

My fingers slowly touched his heart, and said word by word with an voice that only the two of us could hear.

MC: (Do you believe I will be shimmer?)

Lucien's eyes were suddenly bright, and he also answered me with his mouth.

Lucien: (From beginning to end.)

Bang!!

The moment his voice fell to the ground, I shot.

Lucien also slowly fell to the ground under the gunshot.

MC: ....

Holding the gun tightly, I kept my eyes locked on the doorway of the squeezed carriage.

Finally, after a while, a figure appeared at the door.

MC: Whistle..

Whistle: MC? You didn't...

MC: I was lucky, and it happened to be blocked by the sofa when it exploded.

Whistle: Y-Yes...what about Lucien?

MC: Didn't you hear the gunshot just now, I've finished him.

MC: Whistle, You seem to have expected this explosion?

The whistle glanced at Lucien, who was motionless, then glanced at me, his mouth suddenly grinned from an arrogant angle.

Whistle: Of course, this is my plan.

As he said, the hand of the whistle rose sharply, and the black hole pointed straight at me.

Whistle: Because you and "Snow Fox" both have to die.

However, before he had time to pull the triggerㅡ bang! A gunshot sounded faster!

Lucien: Finally bit the bait.

Lucien, who was lying on the ground, opened his eyes. He slowly sat up with a gun in one hand, looking at the whistle for an instant.

Whistle: You..

The man's eyes were full of things, his shrunken pupils were printed with the figure of me and Lucien standing side by side.

When he was about to attack again, the sound of footsteps came from both ends of the dining car. Lucien's subordinates who had survived the explosion finally rushed over and subdued him to the ground.

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien, are you okay!

Lucien: I'm fine.

Lucien: Apart from this person, there must be other pests in this train. Clean it up immediately.

Lucien: Also, immediately contact the headquarters and the nearest hospital, check the conditions of the front and rear carriages, and take all passengers out of here.

Subordinate: But you...

Lucien: Hurry up.

The subordinates' throats stagnated, and they didn't dare to defy him, dragging the seriously injured whistles towards the two carriages.

There were only two of us in the carriage at this moment, and Lucien turned his eyes back to me after watching the last subordinate leave.

Lucien: I just saw, Miss MC's acting is a little bit flamboyant, and she still needs a lot of polishing.

I didn't reply immediately, just stared at Lucien firmly.

At this moment, Lucien's face was strangely clear in the twilight, eyebrows, lips, cheeks... finally merged with "Snow Fox".

MC: ...Mr. Snow Fox's acting skills are outstanding, and the little girl is deeply impressed.

Lucien smiled deeper, and he carefully helped me straighten my temples.

Lucien: When did you discover that the whistle had a problem?

MC: From the beginning. When he faked "Snow Fox" orders and asked me to assassinate you, I began to doubt him.

MC: But at that time I was still not sure about his motives, then...

I took out the handkerchief, and picked up the letters scattered on the ground—the writing on it was exactly the same as the writing in "The Awakening" message.

MC: Did you also find out that there is a problem with the whistle from the beginning?

Lucien shook his head.

Lucien: No. I only found out that he had betrayed the organization and he also found out that I was Snow Fox.

MC: Then when you first got in the car, you said you wanted to get rid of "Snow Fox"....

Lucien: In addition to the whistle, there are other inner ghosts.

Lucien: I arranged this train and wanted to use this excuse to catch them all.

Lucien: But I didn't expect these people to blow up the train in order to get rid of me.

This is a journey of life and death. In the confrontation between righteousness and evil, everyone's identities are constantly changing.

Everyone feels that he is a hunter and the other is a prey. Lucien the Snow Fox. Whistle the traitor.

ㅡOnce Lucien dies on the train, the entire Loveland City may face a bloody storm.

When Lucien said this, his voice became more and more apologetic.

Lucien: I insisted on taking you in the train, because I was afraid that you would be silenced by the whistle while I was away. As a result, I almost made you fall into danger with me. Sorry.

MC: I am not afraid of danger, darkness must accompany danger, I just... a little angry.

Lucien: Why are you angry?

I blushed, and finally threw the gun to him, hold my breath to say the words.

MC: You... the big liar who always talks around the bush!

Lucien laughed loudly. The first time I heard him smile so clear, it was like the early morning when the clouds saw the sun.

He took me to the side of the carriage, supported the window with one hand, and dexterously take off from the carriage.

MC: What are we going to do?

Lucien: There is much more to be done.

Lucien: "Snow Fox" can disappear, but Lucien still has to exist.

Lucien: We have to continue this scene until the darkness fades.

He stretched out his hand to me outside the train. I held his hand and felt the solid strength of his arm.

MC: You are talking around the bush again.

Lucien: Hmm... Would you like to hear me say something less convoluted?

MC: Of course I do.

The glow in the distant mountains has long since faded, and the long night is approaching, and the wilderness will rise from the starting point of the firefly.

Lucien's eyes are brighter than stars and fluorescent lights.

He smiled and took me out of the trainㅡ

Lucien: It happens MC for me, it is indeed a very important person

Lucien: I am very satisfied with the result of this blind date, how about you?

--

Notes from me: You’ve done reading~ thank you for always read Lucien’s date~ I really love the interaction between MC and Lucien in this date, the way Lucien always want to protect MC and MC who wants Lucien’s kindness, is really make my heart fluttered. Again, thanks a bunch for everyone, HAPPY QIXI FESTIVAL!  (*≧ω≦*)

[bjornswoman]

His bride

Requested by none.

Author's note: Hey guys! It took me a long timw to finish this one, because I wrote it and deleted it then. It just never seemed perfect. I think that it is nice now. I hope you like it. Thanks for your support. Take care and have a good day!

Pairing: Modern!Ubbe x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, drama, angst, romance.

Summary: Ubbe and you are getting married.

Warnings: None.

You looked at yourself through the mirror. You looked like a porcelain doll. A princess. The white bridal dress fitted perfectly on your body. It hugged your curves like it should do. Your hair was up in a tightly bun and a veil covered your face. The engagement diamond ring was wrapped tightly around your finger and burning was finger. In a day like this one, your wedding's day, you should be more than happy, but there you stood, looking sad and troubled. This wedding was just a covering. A way for both Ubbe and you to get away of difficult situations.

Your family was the type of family that wanted you or better pressured you to marry. But no any man. A man that would be the right for you. The man who they would choose. That man should be rich, famous, from a 'good' family. You had enough of their bullshit. Well, you had married once due to their pressure. That man was nothing like what you had seen at first. He was a lawyer, a famous one. You thought that he was kind and he would treat you fair, but it was nothing like what you thought. Mason was a drunk. He treated you like you were trash. He had even hit you once and of course that was the moment you divorced him. Your stupid family considered it as an unfortunate moment and tried to find another man that was suitable for you.

You would bear someone like Mason again, so you made a deal with Ubbe who had to marry a good woman for his own reasons. It all happened a night, at a bar. You had never spoken to him before, but you knew him because of his younger brother, Hvitserk. Hvitserk and you were friends and he took his brother, Ubbe, to the bar you used to hang out. That night you were extremely upset with them, because they arranged for you to meet a man. He was sitting on a stool next to you listening to you rumbling about your damned life.

"I just can't relive all this." You had said and downed the liquid that was in your glass. His blue eyes had never left your face. Also, he wasn't bored of your rumbling, he listened to you sipping from his whiskey without interrupt you a bit. You had told him all the story. Everything that he had to know.

"You and me aren't so different us both of us thought." Ubbe had started saying and placed the glass on the table before both of you. "You know my father had built a great empire which me and my brothers have inherited. But there is a little detail that prevents us from taking it. Each brother has to be married in order to take his past of Ragnar's heritage. So to take my share I have to be married and I am not. And you know my mother has to check her, to see whether she's right or not." He continued, shocking you. If he hadn't told you about it, you would have never guessed that he had to marry somebody for taking his share of the heritage. "I am thinking of something a while now." After this he paused for some time. "I feel kind of weird because of what I am proposing to you, but it seems a fair solution for us both. Both of us need to marry for our own reasons. I propose to marry each other for four months. This wedding will be a lie, for me to take my share and for you to gain some money and leave your family behind. What do you thing about it, (Y/N)?" He had asked and drank some of the whiskey inside his glass.

You should have said no. You shouldn't have agreed. But what he was saying was tempting and reasoning. You would be free and away from your family. You agreed and after that night everything happened before you could understand that they were happening.

You signed a contract and for the next two months you fake-dated, but much to you surprise you were going to restaurants or bars and talked. You talked more than him. He liked listening to you. But when you asked him about himself he was hesitated. He wasn't the kind of man who talked about himself. You had only understood he was married before with a woman but he divorced that woman for reasons that were unknown to you. Also, you knew he wanted to have a big family that would have a lot of children. He loved children. Instead of leaving you alone all these two months that you were supposed to date, you were hanging out like two friends would do.

And then happened the worst thing that could have happened; you fell in love with Ubbe. This thing was hurtful, because you knew that Ubbe would never feel the same thing for you. You were desperately in love with him and this wedding wasn't helpful.

Your parents were more than happy because you had chosen a man like Ubbe. Rich, kind, reasonable, famous, coming from such a family. They couldn't see the state you were in. Instead of being happy and blissful, you were miserable and sad. You loved the man you were going to marry because of a deal. This wedding was fake and he didn't love you, but you did and all this thing had become way more complicated than it had already been since the beginning.

You couldn't speak to your famiky, of course, about your problem, they couldn't understand. Only Hvitserk knew the truth, but you couldn't talk to him too. He was Ubbe's brother you were afraid that he would say something to Ubbe.

You sat on the bed and left a heavy sigh. Everything had taken the wrong way. You had fucked up everything with those bloody feelings of yours for Ubbe. The hotel room seemed to be smaller than it was moments ago, when the girls helped you dress and the air started to end. You felt like you couldn't breathe, like this gown on your body tightened and tightened all the time. The ring on your finger made all this even worse than it had already been.

When the door opened you stood up from the bed and forced a smile on your face. Your maids along with your mother and the photographer to take some pictures and get you fully ready for your big day. You wanted to talk to your mother, to tell her how you felt, you wanted her advice but she wouldn't understand you. She had never ever understood you. She took out of her purse a small velvet box, as she did that tears were forming on her eyes. You frowned confused. You had married before but she hadn't given you anything but advice for the first night after the wedding.

"This is a gift from my own mother to me on my wedding day." She told you and take out of the box a necklace. Your mother placed it on your neck and you looked at it and then at her. You were still confused. "I was wrong a lot of times with you (Y/N) and I am sorry. I am giving this to you know, because I think that you deserve it. You will be happy with Ubbe, not because he is a Lothbrok, because he cares for you for real." She continued and you couldn't bear the tears anymore. Tears started streaming down your eyes and she helped you wipe them away. You sat down on the bed again and she told to everyone else in the room to leave you two alone. "Do you want to tell me the reason you cry? Something is wrong and I can sense it. You can talk to me (Y/N)." She continued as she sat next to you. You turned to look at her. She seemed really troubled, like she really cared for your state.

You felt shame because of your huge lie to them, but you had no other choice. They didn't leave you have other choice. You sighed heavy and turned your gaze to your hands.

"I feel like I can't breathe, like this room is getting smaller and smaller, like this dress is tightening and tightening around my body, trying to choke me, is that normal?" You spoke and she smiled. You looked desperately.

"Yes, it is. All of us felt these things on our big day. Just don't think about it. Nothing will change after this day. You love him and he loves you, you will just live together. Only this will change. Now I have to go." She said and caressed your bare shoulder softly. You sighed again.

Only if things happened like this, everything would be easier.

"Ah Ubbe..." You sighed and placed your hand on your forehead. "Why can't you feel what I feel?" You asked desperately.

You stood up afraid when you heard someone couching close to the door. You eyes met two familiar playful green eyes and you smiled. At least you tried to smile.

"How are you best man?" You asked him smiling and wrapped your hands around him in a hug. He let out a laughter.

"I am listening in the bride hoping for the groom to love her, am I right?" He asked. You blushed and looked away. Hvitserk laughed again.

"You - you are and I wanted to tell you, but I was a coward. These - these feelings for Ubbe is mistake and you know the reason. I shouldn't have let myself falling like that. Hvitserk what am I going to do now? How can I live the next four years like that?" You asked and let the tears fall again from your eyes. He hugged you again and caressed your hair.

"You should tell him." He said and you lifted your gaze to look at him. "I mean like real. If you don't talk with him, if you don't tell him your feelings about him, you will never know what he feels for you. Don't act like a teenager because if you dont do it, you will lose him, like real. Just do it." He told you, caressing your cheek. When he finished, he placed a kiss on that same kiss and left you alone again.

Hvitserk was right. You should talk to Ubbe, but the problem was that you couldn't say it. What if he didn't feel the same thing, what would you do?

A knock on the door stopped you from thinking what to do. Your father entered the room with a smile and you forced a smile on your face.

"It's time." He whispered and you walked closer to him. Both of you walked out of the room and went inside the elevator. "If you don't want this wedding to happen, we can stop it. In case you have changed your mind." Your father said again, lookimg at you. You looked at him again. If all this finished here, you would never see him again. Ubbe wouldn't want to see you. You smiled, it was a real smile this time.

"I haven't changed my mind. I want to marry Ubbe." You spoke and stepped out of the elevator with you father next to you.

The car ride was quick. You were tgere in no time. When everyone saw you stood up. Your father wrapped his hand around your arm. Your eyes were to Ubbe, as his own was on you. He looked more elegant than usual. He had always been elegant and handsome, but that day he was more of that two things than any other day. You walked down the aisle next to your father, eyes on Ubbe, hands and body sweating.

"Here, love and protect her." You father said to Ubbe.

"I will." He spoke back to your father and took your hand and looked deep in your eyes. He placed a kiss on your lips. It didn't last as long as you would like, but you could say that he was a good kisser. The best kisser. "I have to tell you something after all this." He whispered to you when he pulled away from you.

But before anything else happen, somebody's voice, a woman's voice, stopped you. Everyone along Ubbe and you turned to look at her. You didn't know her. She was blonde and her eyes were blue, like Ubbe's, but Ubbe's eyes had the most beautiful blue you had ever seen in your life. Nobody had that kind of eyes, only his father, his brother Bjorn and his brother Ivar.

"This wedding can't happen because it's all a lie." She yelled and you frowned. She knew. Somehow she knew the truth and you weren't the one who spoke about it to her, because you didn't know her at all, but even if you knew her, you wouldn't tell. You had told to nobody. So it was Ubbe who told her. You turned your gaze at him. He seemed to know her by the look of his face. He was angry. "Yeah, you heard right. My sweet ex husband and now just lover, Ubbe, is only marrying that little girl because he wants to take his share of his father's heritage and she has her own reasons. Her parents craved to get her married so badly and I can't blame them, look at her. Ubbe, my love, you were right. If it wasn't you, she wouldn't find a man easily." She said and you turned you eyes again to Ubbe. How could you have feelings for that man? He tricked you. He acted all elegand, kind, reasonable, gentle and genuine, but he was just a liar. He was like all the other rich people.

"Get the heck out of here!" He growled and she smirked. His blue eyes met with Hvitserk's green eyes and Hvitserk made his way to her. He tried to take her away from there. She resisted but he was stronger than her.

You didn't know what to say. People were gossiping. Your siblings tried to calm down your parents. You were speechless. Ubbe turned to look at you, but your hand fell violently on his cheek, so hard that his head turned to the said and you hand hurt after the slap.

"How dare you!" You yelled at him and tried to relax for a second. When he turned his head around again, his blue eyes were darker than any other time you had looked at them. Ubbe was even agrier than before but you didn't care. You didn't care at all. "I don't want to see your face even again." You said again and run away from there. You didn't expect him to follow you. After all that you would laugh if someone told you so. But he did.

His strong hand gripped your arm and forced you to turn around and look at him. You resisted, but he was stronger. You spitted on his face and he cleaned himself. You shouldn't have done that, because it only enraged him more than before. You could understand that from the way his grip tightened around your arm.

"Let me go! I don't want to see you ever again! How dare you told her about our deal? And how dare you told all those things for me? You don't even know me! Two months is not a long time, Ubbe Lothbrok! So let me go!" You yelled again. Tears were running down your cheeks without you noticed. His thumb travelled on one of your cheeks and cleaned the tears. Then he did the same to the other. "Don't touch me!" You continued and moved your face away from his thumb, but his strong grip on your arm didn't let you move too far away from him, so he did clean your face from the tears.

"First of all brave enough of you to spit me on the face. It was surprisingly funny. Also, sorry for talking to Margrethe about us. It all happened when I was drunk. Margrethe was my ex wife and it was a mistake that I started seeing her after our divorce, but you have to believe me that I have never spoke shit about you. I enjoy your company." He told you, looking straight into your eyes. You believed him. He was telling the truth. You could see through his eyes that he meant each word he said. Ubbe placed his hand on your cheek.

"Why did you divorce that woman?" You asked him the question that was on your mind all this time. He had told you before that he had divorced his former wife, but he had never really told you the reason and you hadn't asked. You saw Ubbe tensing up, but he didn't refused.

"She wasn't who I thought se was. After our wedding I saw the real face of hers. She is an ambitious woman who craves only money. I did everything she asked. I even shared her with Hvitserk." He answered and you felt disgusted. You knew that they used to share woman, but you didn't know that Ubbe shared with Hvitserk his wife. "Will you forgive me?" He asked again and you sighed.

"I don't know if I can." You started saying. You were going to spill the truth about your feelings. He clearly wasn't feeling the same towards you, but you couldn't keep it amy longer in you. You had to say it, to take out of you. "You betrayed my feelings." You said again and he frowned confused. "I developed feelings for you. I - I can't get you out of my mind. I know - I know that we had agreed no feelings but I can't define my feelings. I know that you don't feel the same, you don't have to reject me nicely. I just needed to tell you to take it out of me. Hvitserk told me to—" You were rambling, but his lips on yours stopped you. You were surprised at first, but you leaned in his kiss. The best kiss you had even had in your whole life. He was kissing you hungrily, bitting your lip. You moaned within the kiss and he entered his tongue in your mouth. "What was that?" You spoke within your heavy breaths, as you tried to breathe normally. Ubbe smirked.

"That was my way to shut you down and tell you that I fancy you, woman." He answered amd you felt confused.

"What?" You asked shocked and he smirked again.

"I like you, pet, like real." He spoke and you smiled. You wrapped his both hands around your waist and pulled you closer to him. "That was what I wanted to tell you after the ceremony." He continued and you chuckled. He pressed his lips on yours again in one passionate kiss.

"And now what?" You asked when you stopped.

"Honeymoon trip?" He proposed and you chuckled again. "Let's get out of here." Ubbe told and both of you sterted walking.

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.1)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,322 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior

Introduction || Part Two ||  Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

There were three voicemails when you turned your phone back on in the airport terminal.

Voicemail, 12:22am

“Y/N, I swear to GOD if you don’t answer your fucking phone the second you land, I’m going to make sure you don’t walk right for a fucking week when I get you back in my hands!”

Voicemail, 12:57am

“I am tempted to leave you stranded without any fucking money! How the fuck would you like that? Having to call me to come bail you the fuck out? I’ll make you get on your goddamn knees and beg. Call. Me.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you snickered.

Tony would never though; you found it impossible. He could not stand the thought of you not having money to shield yourself from the world if he was not there. You needed to be inside, pampered.

You snorted before listening to the next message.

Voicemail, 1:27am

“When I find out where you’ve gone, you bet your ass I’m going to be right on the plane there and you’re not going to like it when I find you! Do you understand me! So, make this easier on yourself and call me back!”

You took the opportunity to text him back.

Y/N, 3:29am

Don’t waste your time or jet fuel. Just leave me alone for a bit. God.

You dialed your friend Xavier, it going to voicemail the first time. Annoyed, you called him again, taking note it was after 3:30am. On the fourth attempt, he answered.

“What the hell do you want, Y/N? If you’re drunk and woke me up—”

Brightly, you told him, “Come get me.”

There was a moment’s pause, before he asked perplexed, “What?”

“I’m at SeaTac.”

“The hell do you mean you’re at SeaTac?”

“I flew here,” you told him nonchalantly as you could. “On a whim. And I don’t want to take an Uber alone. I’ll give you gas money! Promise.”

“Where… what?” He was groggy still.

“I’ll stay at your place for a couple nights?”

He was quiet again for a few moments before asking, “You don’t wanna get a hotel room…?”

“Of course you want to do that.”

“Bitch, I live in a studio. Why would I not want to take advantage of some more space?”

“Point taken. But ugh, hurry!” You whined, leaning against the wall. “I’m in really tall heels and I don’t have a coat. I’m cold.”

“Are you outside?”

“No, in the aiport. The dress is just really short.”

Xavier snorted at this. “Of course it is. Where’s Tony?”

“At home. We got into a fight,” you told him shortly.

“So, you flew here…?”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna go home and see his stupid face. So, I came here. Straight from the party really. Hold on, let me check hotels in the area.” You pulled your phone down to google and scroll through options. “Ugh, I don’t wanna be downtown though. But that’s where all the nice hotels are at… Oh, this place has a renaissance Brad Pitt photo on a pillow.”

“Please. Get that. Just on principal.”

“Okay but this other place has a better bathroom set up.”

“Is that really important?”

“Yes, I want a relaxing bath. And it has a great view of the sound. There’s two-bedroom suites that don’t require extended stays. But, love, I don’t want to sleep alone… and I trust you for that.”

Xavier chortled, “Scout’s honor. Your pussy does not interest me in the slightest. What’s the name then?”

“Thompson. Get here!”

“I’m moving, I’m moving,” Xavier told you and you heard shuffling in the background of the call.

You added before he could hang up, “And bring your phone charger. And some sweats and a shirt. I meant it when I said I left directly from the party. All I’ve got is my purse.”

“You are ridiculous,” Xavier laughed. “It’s going to take me at least a half hour. Don’t let your phone die!”

Tony was calling again, and you sighed annoyed, sending him to voicemail. By now he would know your phone as at least back on and know you sent him to voicemail yet again.

Y/N, 3:41am

My phone is getting low and I need it to contact a hotel so I’m not going to answer.

Your anger was beginning to subside, but you were not ready to give in just yet.

Dialing the hotel, you waited for the front desk to answer. “Yes, I would like to set up a two-bedroom suite if there are any available? There are? Perfect. Oh, right now, please. I’ve just landed at the airport. Yes, yes of course. My card number is….”

Tony would not even have to call the credit card company at this rate with this new charge showing up.

<><><>

Two years ago…

“Are you sure that’s what you want me to do, Y/N? I could really mark you up that way,” Tony purred.

You peered over your shoulder, giving him a pleading look. You had just asked him to hit you again, wanting him to get your ass good and red before he fucked you unbridled. The clincher was that he had a nine tails he was spanking you with. He had dipped into spanking the first time he had taken you and you would be lying if you said you did not like it. You had been interested in the powerful man and had seen him take girls from the service before. When he had shown up last time, you had made sure to be in his sights and he had taken the bite. Figuratively and literally. He had left some nice little marks along your shoulder and atop your breasts that had eventually faded. You wanted more and it seemed he did too.

“Yes, please,” you said coyly.

“If you keep sounding that cute, I am not going to be able to help myself.”

You stuck out your bottom lip and he gave a throat chuckle before swinging his arm back and landing another blow across your cheeks. You made a strangled noise, jolting forward with the hit. Tony’s fingers came to your ass, dipping between your thighs.

“You like me marking you up?” he asked, his fingers playing. You nodded again. “Bite marks and all?” Another nod and he had had enough foreplay.

Tony groaned salaciously, his fingers leaving your sex and coming to tear your dress down off your breasts. The bra was gone next, your breasts bouncing free. Your dress was stuck around your middle, leaving your bottom and top half exposed.

You whimpered, feeling empty.

“Aww, princess,” Tony mockingly cooed. “Do you want me to fix it?”

You breathed, “Yes, sir.”

His cock pressed against your entrance. “I have such a desire for you… to inhale every part of you.”

“I want you to, sir.”

Tony chuckled against your neck before nipping, causing you to whimper at the pinch. “I know, princess. And that’s what I crave. I’m just simply obsessed with you, kitten.”

<><><>

You woke up to tapping on your face.

Xavier chortled when you startled awake. “Hello, darling,” he crooned.

You slapped his hand away, “Jesus, you creep. Couldn’t you have just gotten out of bed quietly and ordered breakfast?”

“Oh, I did that,” Xavier told you and you scowled, grabbing the blanket to try to yank it over your head. “But I also ordered you some blueberry pancakes!”

At the mention of them, you stilled. Muttering angrily, you threw the blanket back and grabbed your phone, checking the time. It was only 9:30am. You had only been asleep for a few hours at best. When Xavier had picked you up, you had turned your phone back on airplane mode to prevent seeing whatever texts Tony was going to be sending and any calls. You switched it off and surprisingly saw there was only one text from him. He had tried to call a couple of times but he had not left any more voicemails. He was probably testing to see if your phone was back on or not.

Tony, 4:42am

I don’t know what you’re hoping to accomplish from this other than pissing me off.

You sighed as you got out of bed, padding to the bathroom, taking your phone with you.

Xavier called from the bed, “They said less than a half hour!”

“Noted,” you returned coming to the tub and turning it on. You placed your phone on the counter and began getting undressed.

Kicking your feet up, you relaxed back into the tub. It was so warm, and you settled back in further, a smile coming across your face. There was nothing a hot bath could not soothe. You had been bruised up on your ass too many times to not know that.

Your phone rang and you groaned, knowing who it was. You sunk beneath the water, holding your breath. You could not even have one damn bath…

Footsteps echoed into the bathroom and you opened your eyes seeing Xavier peering at your phone on the counter.

You were out of the water in a second, telling him before your ears had even cleared, “Xavier, don’t—”

He had already pressed answer and held the phone up to his ear much to your horror. You could only hear his side of the conversation.

“Hello? Who’s this? Oh, you must be Tony. A friend.”

“Xavier!” you hissed. “Hang the fuck up!”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think you can talk to her. She’s busy.” Xavier paused and then shrugged as if Tony could see him. “I don’t know. She handed me the phone and she left when she saw it was you calling.”

You mouthed, “Too much!”

Xavier ignored you. “I told you she left. She doesn’t want to talk to you. Are you deaf? I already told you that.”

You were leaning halfway out of the tub damn near at this point, your hands gripping the side of the tub. “Too. Much!” you hissed at him.

“Again, I told you. She left. Don’t know where. She was wearing something pretty skimpy though.”

You were crawling out of the bath by this point and Xavier took a few steps back, a playful smile on his face. He had no idea what he was doing. And it was your damn fault by not explaining anything about who Tony was to him before this. All he knew of Tony was that he was a billionaire and your husband. He did not know his mafia ties or the nature of your relationship with him.

“Hmm, apparently I’ve overstayed my welcome. Anyways, if you want to have this convo again, let me know!” Xavier said into the phone, speaking louder with every word practically. As if Tony was trying to yell over him and Xavier was ignoring him. “Bye now!”

A pet peeve of Tony’s was being spoken over. Another was having someone else play with his toy, which was no doubt the thought going through his mind right now because he had no idea who Xavier was. Great.

“Xavier!” you exploded, standing in front of him naked, water dripping onto the floor.

“Yes? And can you put a towel on?” he asked as he placed your phone down on the counter.

You exclaimed, “That was too much! Why didn’t you listen to me and hang up the phone?” You really were worried.

He was unperturbed by your outburst though, shrugging as you snatched a towel and wrapped it around yourself. “As you told me multiple times! And cause it was funny.”

“Do you know what he would do to you if he knew who you were? No one talks to him like that!” You added for good measure. “Especially when it comes to me.”

“Well, he hasn’t let you see me in over a year!” Xavier pouted. You exhaled sharply. It was true… you only traveled when Tony permitted it. You had not been back home in such a long time. “He deprived me of you. He deserved being left behind. Didn’t you say so?”

“That I did. But next time, let me answer,” you poked him roughly on the nose. To give some insight into your relationship, you told him, “Daddy likes hearing my voice, especially when he’s in the state he’s in. Do you understand me?”

“’Daddy’?” Xavier asked, looking put off.

“Yes, he’s quite good at keeping me in line.” Xavier cocked an eyebrow and then burst out laughing. You shrugged, “Most of the time. I’m usually well behaved for him. He just made me mad.”

“I’m getting some very… dom/sub vibes here.”

“Correct.”

“Hmm, that does shed some light on why you’re so mad about that call then.”

“Yeah, you fuck!” you told him, slapping his arm.

“Well, you’ll just get some spankings.”

“I hope that’s the only thing that happens, you dick,” you snapped, seriously.

“Maybe some orgasm denial for his little… babygirl? Princess?” Xavier grinned broadly when he saw your eyes widen at the name. You slapped his arm again, harder this time, and he laughed, pulling away from you. “Is that what he calls you?”

You huffed as you got back into the tub and admitted, “Maybe.” You leveled him with a glare and said, “I’m serious though. Don’t answer the phone again. He’s already mad at me.”

<><><>

Tony had cracked his phone protector with how hard he had slammed it down on the counter after that little prick – whoever he was – had hung up on him. A million, jealous thoughts were running through his mind. Y/N was off with some other man up in Seattle – he had seen the hotel pending charge this morning when he had woken up from his short sleeping stint. She was pregnant with his goddamn kid for fucks sake, and she had the audacity to sleep with someone else.

That was something he could not abide. This was too far.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

[kjack89]

An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 5/?)

Continuation of the E/R Bridgerton AU, regency-era fake-marriage shenanigan-fest, and we’ve actually gotten to the marriage part! Or, at least, the wedding.  (Chapter 1 tumblr | AO3, chapter 2 tumblr | AO3, chapter 3 tumblr | AO3, chapter 4 tumblr | AO3)

As much as this Author positively loathes to gloat, there comes a time when even the most modest among us must utter those four words everyone hates to hear: I told you so.

Both the Marquess of Enjolras and Mr. Grantaire emerged from their duel with not a scratch upon them and with the Marquess sworn to uphold the honor of Mr. Grantaire’s sister and rectify the situation he caused by joining her in matrimony. As befits the magnitude of the scandal, a special license has been purchased – for who knows what sum – so that the whole affair can be concluded before the Dowager Marchioness even has a chance to book a carriage out to the country to meet her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

Much to the relief of both the Marquess and his fiancée, this Author presumes. 

Still, a wedding may signal an end to impropriety, but scandals are wont to continue of their own accord, especially when one can hardly imagine the Marquess settling quickly or quietly into married life. A storm is brewing, one way or another, but rest assured, Dear Reader – this Author will be here to cover whatever may come next. LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 6 MAY 1831

Enjolras hated to admit it, but he was nervous.

He really hadn’t thought he was going to be, but as he stood at the front of the small, unassuming chapel dressed in the best clothes he could purchase on a moment’s notice from the village, his stomach felt like it was doing somersaults somewhere around his knees, and his palms were sweating so much that he was tempted to wipe them on his trousers.

Perhaps nerves were to be expected. After all, it wasn’t everyday that he got married.

Granted, the wedding itself was going to be a simple affair, just Enjolras with Madame Hucheloup in front of the vicar, whom Enjolras had met once, briefly, the prior day and who had been as drunk as Grantaire had promised, so much so that when Grantaire told him that Enjolras would be marrying his sister, the man did not even hesitate, despite presiding over her burial some two decades prior. He seemed equally drunk that morning, swaying slightly as he hummed off-key, waiting for the ceremony to start.

Joining Enjolras and his not-so-blushing fake bride would be Grantaire and Le Cabuc as witnesses, with only the four of them any wiser to the fact that the entire thing was a farce. Then the only final piece of the puzzle was getting a suitable dowry from Grantaire to give to his mother, and then, finally, Enjolras would be free.

Well, free until such a time came as when he would need to ‘bury’ his fake wife, but that was a future problem, and one he was not inclined to think too closely about at the moment.

Especially when he had much bigger concerns: particularly, the fact that Grantaire and Madame Hucheloup were running late.

He glanced over at Le Cabuc, who looked almost bored, and chanced a look back at the vicar, who didn’t seem at all concerned with the fact that time was stretching on and there was no sight of either of them. Enjolras was just about to excuse himself to go track down Grantaire and Madame Hucheloup himself when the woman in question appeared in the back of the parish, out of breath and – far more concerning – dressed in her usual clothes and not the wedding dress that Enjolras had dutifully purchased to continue the façade, clutching a valise assumedly containing other clothes.

Enjolras frowned and hurried to intercept her. “Beg pardon,” she said breathlessly, her face flushed red as if she had run the entire way from the house. “But there’s been a change.”

“A change?” Enjolras repeated, stupidly. “What kind of change?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Himself is on his way, he’ll explain everything.”

Enjolras would have much preferred that she explain, but given that she looked like she was about to topple over at any given moment, he supposed the polite thing to do was to walk her to a seat before heading to the back of the chapel to await Grantaire and whatever explanation he brought.

So he did just that, depositing her in a chair before hurrying to the chapel door to intercept Grantaire and find out just what explanation he could possibly—

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Grantaire hurrying towards him, dressed not in his Sunday best as was anticipated but rather wearing, of all the garments in the world, the wedding dress.

Enjolras was certain his mouth fell open as he stared at Grantaire, temporarily unable to speak. There was a very small, distracted part of his brain that noticed that despite the dress not having been tailored for him by any stretch, it somehow fit Grantaire rather pleasingly.

He shook his head to clear it of that thought and wrenched his mouth open. “What in the bloody hell—”

“Language,” Grantaire chided, sounding stressed as he finally arrived at the door. “We are on consecrated ground, after all.”

It was a patently absurd thing to say, and accounted for Enjolras spluttering in response, “Yes, we are, so perhaps you can explain what in God’s name you’re wearing?!”

Grantaire drew himself up to his full height and scowled at Enjolras. “I’m wearing a wedding dress,” he said. “As for the reason I am wearing said wedding dress, which I believe is more to the point of what you’re asking, you should know. You’re the one who helped pass the damned thing.” Enjolras stared blankly and Grantaire elaborated, “The law was updated recently, requiring one male and one female witness for any nuptial ceremony.”

Enjolras had a sudden, horrible memory of celebrating a law passed through the House of Lords that was meant to help keep young women from being forced into marriage with their father and brother as the sole witnesses, an all-too-common occurrence. Granted, the efficacy of the law remained to be seen, since too many mothers were frequently willing to go along with such plans, but it was a start, and—

He shook his head to clear it. “And so Madame Hucheloup needs to be one of the witnesses,” he said instead, finally putting together the pieces to which Grantaire had been alluding in his usual, maddening way.

“Well, I thought about simply making up a woman’s name and forging the signature on the certificate,” Grantaire said, “but seeing as how I rather suspect that this particular marriage certificate will face more scrutiny than most, it didn’t seem a particularly wise course of action.”

Grantaire was almost certainly correct about that, but still Enjolras felt something like despair. “Was there no other woman that you could get to be a witness?” he asked, a bit desperately.

“Another woman whom I trust with my reputation, and far more importantly, with yours?” Grantaire asked, arching an eyebrow. “At this late of date?”

“Then someone who would pretend to be a bride for the day?”

Enjolras knew it was an idiotic question the moment he blurted it, and the look Grantaire gave him reinforced as such. “If I would not trust them to be a witness, what makes you think I would trust them to exchange marriage vows with you? Even if using a false name, I know not the legal ramifications and I would not have someone trying to take you for all your worth.” Enjolras blinked, fleetingly touched by the lengths to which Grantaire seemed determine to go to protect him – or at the very least, to protect his estate. “No, that was not an option. Meaning the only option available to us—”

“—Is you wearing the dress and pretending to be the bride.”

Grantaire grinned at him. “Personally, I think it looks quite fetching on me.”

As if to illustrate his point, he ran a hand down the bodice of the gown, a hand that Enjolras could not help but follow with his eyes as it skimmed the creamy fabric that dipped and clung in all the right places— “That is hardly the point,” he snapped, tearing his eyes away.

“No, the point is that the vicar, drunk though he inevitably is, will start asking questions soon, so it’s best we get this over with as soon as possible,” Grantaire said bluntly, his smile disappearing.

When he later thought about it, Enjolras could come up with no rational explanation for what possessed him to say it, but somehow, he found himself scoffing, “Quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Romance?” he repeated, exasperated. “Is now really—” He broke off without warning, and Enjolras was surprised to see his expression soften as he looked up at Enjolras. “Enjolras,” Grantaire said quietly, the exasperation gone from his voice and replaced by something gentle, something entirely unfamiliar that Enjolras could not quite put a name to. “What there is between us is the stuff of fairytales, of legend. What Helen felt for Paris, or Samson for Delilah, pales in comparison to the depths of my feelings for you, and were I to search every corner of this world I know that there is no one with whom I would rather share the remainder of my days. Will you do me the honor of joining me at the altar and becoming my husband?”

Enjolras couldn’t help himself – he snorted a laugh. “Very well, I suppose I deserved that,” he said briskly. “But I do hope you manage to find some actual sincerity when saying your vows, or even the vicar might realize this is a farce.”

He offered his arm to Grantaire, who took it after settling his veil over his face so that not even Enjolras could read his expression. “I’m beginning to think you wouldn’t know sincerity if it were to bite you in the—”

“Shh,” Enjolras hissed, and for once in his life, Grantaire fell silent as the two of them traversed the short aisle to take their place at the front of the chapel.

“Ah,” the vicar said, smiling at them both. “Welcome, welcome. We are gathered here today, in the sight of God and—” The vicar let out a loud hiccup and Enjolras bit his lip hard enough to almost draw blood to keep from laughing. He glanced sideways at Grantaire, but couldn’t tell if the man was as amused as he. “—and the witnesses gathered here,” the vicar continued, “to watch as the Marquess of Enjolras and the, er, the…”

He trailed off, clearly casting about for the proper title for Grantaire’s sister, and even though he could not see Grantaire’s face, Enjolras could clearly tell that he was rolling his eyes. “Mistress,” Enjolras supplied helpfully, as it seemed the most appropriate title.

“Yes, that,” the vicar said, nodding at him, continuing without pause, “and Grantaire join together in the bonds of Holy Matrimony. You may face each other and recite your vows.”

Enjolras obediently turned to face Grantaire, hesitating before reaching forward to lift the veil from Grantaire’s face as was tradition. After all, with the vicar no longer facing him head on, it seemed doubtful he would notice that the features underneath were decidedly male.

Grantaire arched an eyebrow as Enjolras lifted his veil, but luckily, made no comment, simply reaching out with his lace gloved hands to take Enjolras’s in his own.

The detour from traditional vows had been Enjolras’s only insistence when planning the ceremony, and he was doubly glad he had insisted on it now, since he was not certain that he would make it through if he had to make the usual promises of honoring and cherishing to Grantaire, especially with Grantaire looking at him like that. Instead, he had opted for seven simple words borrowed from the rather utilitarian vows made by some medieval French men upon joining their households in common purpose with each other.

“Un pain, un vin, et une bourse,” Enjolras said, the meaning as simple as the words themselves: one bread, one wine, and one purse, the three things he and Grantaire would now share, bonded as they were by this ceremony.

Grantaire tilted his head slightly, a soft smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He had told the vicar that his sister would opt for equally simple vows, and had assured Enjolras that Madame Hucheloup would not surprise him. But Madame Hucheloup did not stand across from him now, and Enjolras knew without any doubt that Grantaire was going to say something else entirely, and he half-dreaded what words would possibly come out of Grantaire’s mouth. “Une vie et un amour,” Grantaire pronounced, and Enjolras was surprised that the breath seemed to catch in his throat at the simple words, an answer and a challenge to his own.

One life and one love.

Well, he had been the idiot who had asked for some semblance of romance.

The vicar was saying something else, but Enjolras seemed to have temporarily lost his ability to hear, staring still at Grantaire, at that small smile still on his face, trying to figure out why or how he suddenly had the urge to lean in and kiss that smile off of his face.

Without warning, the vicar cleared his throat loudly and Enjolras jumped before glancing almost guiltily back at him, but if the vicar noticed, he gave no indication of it, simply intoning, “What the Lord has brought together, let no man tear asunder. By the power vested in me by the King and by the Lord our God, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss—” 

The words weren’t even out of his mouth before Enjolras had leaned in to press his lips against Grantaire’s.

It was over almost as quickly as it had happened, Enjolras pulling away before his brain had time to process what had just happened, or what he had just done, and he felt stricken as he scanned Grantaire’s face, looking for some reassurance that he had not made a grave error.

But Grantaire’s face was entirely unreadable as he reached up to again cover his face with his veil before turning back to the vicar, who was smiling at them both in a sort of genial, patronizing way that for some inexplicable reason infuriated Enjolras. Or perhaps it was just that Grantaire had dropped his hands and turned away.

Either way, as the vicar completed his benediction, Grantaire finally turned back to Enjolras, leaning in to tell him in an undertone, “Madame Hucheloup brought some clothes for me. I’m going to change and then we can return home.”

Enjolras nodded dumbly, tempted to ask how they would explain the sudden disappearance of Enjolras’s bride to any onlookers or the vicar himself, but decided it was not worth it. Especially since the vicar took his leave immediately upon the conclusion of the ceremony, mumbling something about being thirsty as he staggered past Enjolras and Grantaire, assumedly heading back to the rectory.

 As Grantaire disappeared somewhere to assumedly change, Enjolras felt slightly aimless, milling about the chapel with nothing really to do besides sign the paperwork, which took about twenty seconds. Without any better option, he approached Madame Hucheloup, whom he reasoned had undoubtedly seen her share of weddings. “I beg your pardon for not asking sooner,” he started, “but is there something I’m meant to be doing for this?”

“Other than standing up at the altar as you just did?” she asked with a smile. “No, m’lord. Ordinarily you’d be greeting guests and such, and overseeing – which is to say, and begging your pardon for wording it such, paying for – the wedding feast, but seeing as how you’ll not be having any festivities…” She trailed off and shrugged. “Other than that, you’d be planning the honeymoon trip, I suppose, but again, I’m not sure what you and Himself have got planned there.”

She gave Enjolras a look that he couldn’t quite interpret and he shrugged as well. “Nor do I, I suppose,” he told her with a tight smile. “Very well. Thank you for your help. You and Le Cabuc can return to the manor if you’d like – Grantaire and I will be along soon enough.”

Enjolras wasn’t entirely sure he had any real authority to give orders to Grantaire’s household staff, but neither Madame Hucheloup nor Le Cabuc complained at the dismissal, simply taking their leave – and leaving Enjolras by himself and feeling, quite possibly, more aimless than before.

While his nerves earlier had been expected, this inexplicable feeling of being unmoored was not. Frankly, as the marriage and the wedding to precede it were both shams, he hadn’t expected to feel anything more than slightly embarrassed at the whole process. But embarrassment was really the furthest thing from his mind as he thought about how he had felt standing in front of the vicar with Grantaire.

It should have felt even more of a farce than just the fake wedding itself, exchanging wedding vows with a man. At the very least, he was fairly certain it was a sacrilege, or making a mockery of the sacrament itself.

And yet, it hadn’t felt that way.

Enjolras had never pondered his nuptials save as a thing to be dreaded, had never pictured himself facing some faceless woman and binding himself to her, so he had no frame of reference for how others might have anticipated feeling, but he wondered if others also discovered upon their wedding day that it just felt...right. Like something he was meant to do.

Were he more inclined toward the philosophical, he might’ve wondered if there was a deeper meaning he should be reading into that, or if this should inspire some deeper questions about fate or predestination, but Enjolras had never been one for such discussions, preferring to focus on the here and now, the tangible ways in which he could affect change. And he did not dwell on them now, instead shaking his head once more to clear it of errant thoughts before going to find Grantaire to see what could possibly be taking him so long to get changed.

He did not find him at all in the chapel and was about to give up and head back to the house alone when he caught sight of a lone figure standing out in the small cemetery next to the chapel. Even without being able to make out any of his features, he could tell it was Grantaire, and he frowned slightly before heading over to join him.

“Grantaire?” he called when he finally drew close, and Grantaire looked up, startled.

“My apologies,” he said, something like guilt flashing across his face. “I completely forgot I had offered to walk back up with you.”

Enjolras’s frown deepened, because something about Grantaire seemed off. Not just that he was back in his usual clothes, though that was certainly a brief disappointment to Enjolras, but something about the set of his shoulders and the tired look on his face. He glanced at the small, unadorned stone Grantaire stood in front of, sudden realization hitting as he read the name: Adélaïde Grantaire.

“My sister,” Grantaire said, unnecessarily. “I just wanted a moment with her. She—” His voice broke and he coughed, once, as if to try to hide it. “She would have been greatly amused by today, I think.”

“The idea of you in a wedding dress?” Enjolras guessed, aiming for levity.

But Grantaire shook his head. “The idea of me getting married at all, really,” he said with a short, dry laugh. “We used to joke about it, her and I, when we were small. She told me that a handsome prince would come along and save her from her suffering, and I would tease that I would marry a handsome prince, too, and we would be princesses together.” He shook his head again, but fondly this time. “Hence why she would get great amusement at my marrying a Marquess in her name.” His smile faded. “Sadly, there was no prince in this or any land who could have saved her, no matter how many stars she wished upon.”

Enjolras bowed his head in understanding. “May I ask how she died?” he asked quietly, hoping Grantaire would not think he was intruding. He had refused to talk about his sister earlier, but Enjolras felt like something had changed between them and he might be willing to say a bit more.

Grantaire just shrugged. “She was very ill for much of our childhood,” he said matter-of-factly. “She and my mother were stricken with fever at her birth – my mother succumbed to it. Adélaïde got better, so to speak, but she was never truly healthy. Then when she was nine…” He trailed off before taking a deep, shuddering breath. “It was quick, at least, in the end. Which was a comfort in its own way.”

Enjolras wished he had some eloquent words of comfort to offer, but he felt tongue-tied instead. So in lieu of words, he reached out and gently rested his hand on Grantaire’s shoulder, squeezing it once before letting it fall back to his side. Then he cleared his throat. “So she wanted to be saved from illness...what did you hope your handsome prince would save you from?”

“My father.” Grantaire flinched, whether from the words or from the memories they stirred. “He...he did not like me much. He was mostly indifferent to Adélaïde, but he seemed to find fault with everything I did.”

“He beat you.”

Enjolras said the words evenly, but his vision seemed to flash red in front of his eyes at the thought. Any parent hitting their child was a heinous thought, but for some reason, the idea of Grantaire as a child making desperate wishes to escape with his ill sister made his blood boil.

“Well, he rarely carried it out himself, but yes,” Grantaire said, his tone turning matter-of-fact again “And after she died, it got worse. Thankfully, when I went off to school, he was stationed abroad, and has never returned.” He snorted a humorless laugh. “God only knows how disappointed he would be if he could see me today, but I think he and I are both content to pretend the other does not exist.”

Enjolras was not so content, knowing that there was a man out there somewhere with such little regard for his own son, and it took him a moment before he could manage a response. “If he ever comes back, I’ll kill him.”

Grantaire looked sharply at him, searching his expression for a moment before his own softened. “A noble offer, but I don’t think we’re in much danger of that happening.” He nudged Enjolras lightly with his elbow. “Thank you, though.”

“It is the least I can do...as your husband.” Grantaire laughed and Enjolras hesitated before adding, “I promise this arrangement involving your sister, and now you, I suppose, will be only temporary. As soon as everything is handled with my mother, I will find us both a way out of this so that you can return to your memories of her in peace.”

Grantaire shook his head. “I rather wish you wouldn’t,” he said, as if confessing a secret. “It’s been surprisingly pleasant, sharing a devious plot with you. And...sharing this part of myself with someone as well.” He gestured towards his sister’s grave before giving Enjolras a hesitant smile. “Besides, I’m certain our friends would hate for us to return to our usual animosity.”

“Our friends can adjust,” Enjolras muttered.

Grantaire laughed again. “Even so,” he said, before adding, with a beatific smile and a fluttering of his eyelashes in what he clearly deemed an alluring way, “Besides, you can’t be rid of me so quickly. After all, we haven’t even had a chance to have our wedding night yet.” Enjolras blanched and Grantaire laughed once more. “Now come, it’s time we returned to the house before Madame Hucheloup sends a search party after us.”

They started off together, silence stretching between them for a few minutes before Enjolras remarked, off-handedly, “Do you know, I believe that was the first time you’ve called me by my name.”

Grantaire frowned. “When?”

“When you were doing your little mocking proposal.” Enjolras gave him a look. “Normally you call me ‘my lord’ or ‘Apollo’ or some other asinine nickname.”

“I’m sure I have called you by your name before,” Grantaire scoffed, but he didn’t quite meet Enjolras’s eyes when he said it.

Enjolras wanted to counter that, and drag the matter into their usual bickering as a way to pass the time, but something caused him to hold his tongue. And as they made their way back up to the manor, he could not help but notice that the time passed just as easily in companionable silence, and that their hands kept brushing against each other as they walked.

[startanewdream]

I have this multichap WIP in the works for ages and now thanks to @sunshine-marauders' prompt ("Insecure James") I finally got around posting the first day!

Read on AO3 or below:

____________

Not a bad day

Chapter 1 - Not a bad game day

The moment the portrait closed and all sounds of the party vanished, James let the smile slip out of his face and his hands grabbed his hair nervously, fighting back a will to just tear them away.

Ten points.

In his first match as Quidditch captain, Gryffindor won by ten points.

It had never happened before in all twelve matches James had played; James remembered easy winnings, even in that match last year that he had to play as Seeker when Godfrey had broken his arm the night before the match, but back then they had a decent captain. Or two, because the Prewett twins were co-captains and they knew how to be a captain.

He’d thought he had done everything right. He had trained with the other chasers, making sure they worked as a team; he’d instructed the keeper in how to detect and avoid any tricks, sharing with him even James' secret manoeuvres. He’d practised with the two beaters, spent afternoon days with them with himself as their target and James had been to the Hospital Wing with two broken ribs, but he was certain the beaters could hit any target. And James had spent even more hours with the new seeker, developing all skills that were already there and making sure she was confident enough.

And then everything had crumbled in the first ten minutes of the match.

James had called for two time-outs and had talked to his team, bestowed upon them his best confident charm, but nothing seemed to work; and despite his words, he was equally lost. He didn’t know if he should try to redirect his team or make sure they had enough goals to not matter if they lost. If he wasn’t the captain, he would be scoring as many as possible — but everyone was looking at him in search of an answer he didn't have and the narrator was gladly commenting about every mistake Gryffindor was making and…

And a miracle had happened when Vance had caught the snitch, but James knew it had been more an accident than actual talent.

He hadn’t said anything about it though. His team — his carefully chosen and well-trained players — knew the match had been horrible and James didn’t have the spirit to let them down even more. So he had done his captain duty: he had praised everyone for whatever he could (‘That pass was amazing, Jones. You almost hit that bludger perfectly, Merryweather. Spectacular diversion of that bludger, Vance), and he had congratulated them for the victory.

None of the Gryffindors seemed to think anything was amiss. The victory party was raging when the team arrived — loud music and bottles of butterbeer all around. Sirius was drinking something that definitely wasn’t butterbeer and James had been tempted to lose himself too, but he had passed.

He had expected to drink to celebrate, not to drown away his misery.

After a while, he had just risen and left the Common Room quietly. With luck, his friends would just think he had left to celebrate with someone or had fallen drunk behind some couch.

The halls were quiet and empty, which James considered a small blessing. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with any joke about his performance as captain or even worse, any compliment about it.

He just wanted to be left alone to brood, really, and to think how everything had gone so wrong.

He found an empty classroom to sit in, watching the sun shining over the surface of the lake. The good thing was that the game lasted only one hour — the bad side of it meant it was still early and the party would last until nightfall. He wondered if he could just hide there all day — probably not, James thought as his stomach rumbled. He just wanted that horrible miserable day to end.

James lasted another thirty minutes until he agreed that he needed something to eat. The only question was if he would rather risk going to the kitchen or back to the Common Room — if people started clapping his back again, James was sure he would just throw up. What he needed, really, was to go to Professor McGonagall and return the captain badge so she could pin it on anyone else — and then he would be free to do what he was good at, that was scoring goals without worries about what everyone else was doing.

The Common Room, James decided. From there he could just slip back to his bed and then pretend he was too drunk and just try to sleep. Anything to end that day, to pretend it had never happened at all.

He left the classroom absently, and he was closing the door when he heard a voice that made him jump.

‘Potter?’

His hand went to his hair, in a gesture that was more reflex than anything. There were a lot of reflexes that James couldn’t help whenever he heard her voice — such as that redness that came to his neck or the way his heart beat faster whenever Lily Evans was around.

Mostly the last one.

And especially when he turned around and his eyes found Lily Evans standing in the middle of the hall, watching him leaving the classroom. She was still dressed in Gryffindor colours: wearing the uniform lazily, the tie hanging undone around her neck over two open buttons of her shirt; her face was painted with two lines of red and gold in each cheek, and her red hair was combed in two braids that were lined with golden flecks. He felt he could stay there watching her forever.

Good Godric, she was beautiful.

James refrained from sighing.

‘Hi, Evans,' he said, and his voice did that melodious thing that always happened when he was near her.

James really wished he could talk to Lily Evans as if he was a normal human being, but his body was always full of reactions when it came to her, no matter how much he tried to control them.

He was trying to forget her after all. Evans had already made it clear that she wasn’t interested in him — which was becoming more evident now as she watched him with a sudden suspicious expression, her eyes narrowing.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Going back to the Common Room?’ he answered, feeling a little unsure. There was something about Evans that always made him feel guilty as if she could find the worst faults in him.

Even when he wasn’t doing anything wrong such as now.

‘You left the party,' mumbled Evans, still sounding accusing as if he had no right to leave in the first place.

‘So did you,' James smirked, which he knew wouldn’t work with Evans but he had to try anyway. ‘What are you doing, Evans?’

‘Patrolling,' she answered easily, pointing to the prefect badge pinned on her robe, in the same place James had his captain badge pinned. ‘Which is why I get to ask what you were doing alone in an empty room — oh.' Evans looked away from him, an annoyed expression crossing her face. ‘You weren’t alone.'

‘What?’

‘No one is supposed to enter classrooms without permission, you know that, Potter,’ reprimanded Evans, ignoring him. ‘I will have to report it to Professor McGonagall.'

‘Ah, come on,' James complained, the unfairness of it making him grimace. ‘I can’t even brood alone without getting detention? Really?’

Evans blinked.

‘Alone? I thought — you left the party, and Vance too and — brooding?’ She paused, watching him with concern now, which James realized was even worse. On top of all his failures, he also didn’t need Evans’ pity. ‘What happened, Potter?’

‘Nothing.'

‘You look like someone stole the last piece of chocolate tart that you always pick up first at dinner — really, what’s up? Shouldn’t you be celebrating your victory?’

‘Just let go, Evans,' he asked, turning away from her and walking down the hall. He could hear her rushed steps after him.

‘Potter —'

‘I am a crappy captain, is that what you wanted to hear?’ he cried, turning around to face Evans. He hadn’t noticed how close she was, but for once James didn’t let this thought distract him. ‘I had one job that was to keep the team working and I screwed it up.'

‘Butt —’ Evans looked really confused. ‘But Gryffindor won.'

‘By ten points. We needed a good margin of points to not depend on the result of other games and now we have to double our work —’

‘You still won,' she insisted, watching him closely and there was no pity or annoyance on her face now. ‘Winning by ten points is better than losing by ten and, be honest, even if you had won by a thousand points, would it have made a difference?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘A victory by a giant margin — would you have relaxed your efforts with the team? Would you stop working so hard with Matt and Lucy? Or stop all those night meetings with Emmeline?’

James blinked slowly, not understanding what Evans meant by that. Of course he would keep trying to improve his team.

‘No.'

‘And if Gryffindor could lose by three hundred points and still win the Quidditch Cup — would you want the team to play poorly?’

‘No, of course not!’

‘So, Potter.' Evans crossed her arms like she had done a thousand times before at him but James didn’t think she was exasperated this time. ‘This one match doesn’t change anything. You still have work to do with your team.'

James shifted the weight from one foot to another, thinking. Evans was still watching him, her green eyes giving him the impression that she could see every thought unfolding in his mind; she didn’t look surprised when he nodded.

‘I guess the game wasn’t so bad. I mean, there is room for improvement, but now I saw everyone’s weakest points and I can work with that.'

‘Exactly, captain,' Evans said, and James dared to think there was a teasing note in her voice, one that he’d heard her sharing with others but never with him.

He fought very hard his desire to grin.

‘Ready to go back to the party?' she asked.

'Yeah. And you?'

He tried not to sound too hopeful. Considering Evans didn't look repulsed by his question, James thought he had been successful.

'It was a little boring,' Evans said, shrugging. 'I don't know, I expected it to be more fun.'

'It's because I wasn't there,' James teased, but this seemed the wrong thing to say. Evans took a step back, frowning; panic flooded him and he added hurriedly: 'I mean, who left Sirius in charge of the music? He grew up with classical music.'

Her expression softened.

'Maybe you could tap the radio to Muggle stations? Like you did last year?'

James fought to keep a neutral face. She had noticed he was the one that did it, then? He'd thought Evans was too mad at him back then — during all that party, James had tried to draw her attention, certain that him leading Gryffindor to the victory would make Evans want to go out with him, but she had refused to even glance in his direction.

But she had noticed his charm.

'I could,' he replied slowly. 'It is much better to dance.'

'Yeah,' she agreed and then Evans smiled at him.

She smiled. At him. On purpose. That warm glorious smile that had first attracted him years ago, long before he knew what it meant.

His heart was doing full acrobatics dancing steps inside him now.

'Are you going back too?' he asked, desperately willing himself to look normal, though his hand wanted very much to comb his hair — or touch her braids, he wasn't sure.

Evans bit her lip, looking down the corridor that led to the Astronomy Tower.

'It's Saturday,' James added as charmingly as he could, his voice again melodious and nice. 'Do you really need to be patrolling today?'

'Actually… no, I wasn't scheduled. It's just —'

'The party was lame, I know.' She looked back at him; it was difficult to concentrate under her gaze, but James had to try. 'But still better than patrolling empty halls, I’d say.

He tried that puppy look he always saw Remus using when he wanted something; at least it should be more efficient than his confident gaze that Evans never seemed to find amusing. But she took one look at his face and she averted her eyes quickly, looking suddenly flustered.

'Well, it wasn't my schedule anyway,' she agreed, walking next to him in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. 'And I could use a drink.'

'Sirius' version or the normal butterbeer?'

'What's in his version?' Evans asked, and James could hear the amusement in her voice as if she was already predicting his answer.

'Probably not butter, only beer — and worse.'

She let out a giggle. James pretended the sound did not fill his heart with hope and joy.

'I will stay out of his version then. I would like to remember this day tomorrow.'

James thought of sharing a smile and a decent conversation with Evans — she had noticed he always saved a chocolate tart for himself? Or that he had charmed the radio to play Muggle songs? And she was actually going back to the party because he had asked? — and decided he would like to remember that day too. It had not been that bad.

_________

[vi-does-stuff]

I Thought It Was Over – Chapter Three

Obi-Wan Kenobi x f!reader

Warnings mild angst, more death, Geonosis!

Word count 4.1k

There was a lingering smile on your face as you woke up, in a strangely large and comfortable bed, someone’s arm across your chest. For a second, you sighed happily, feeling oddly content, until you realised that this was not where you were supposed to be. You stiffened, slowly looking to your side and realising that it was Obi-Wan who was settled beside you, looking perfectly comfortable despite the naked state you were both in.

Your mild concern swelled into all-out panic, and this must have flared along your bond because Obi-Wan’s face creased a little before he woke up himself. His eyes fluttered open, and you shared a long look, neither of you wanting to make the first move.

Shit, you heard echo through your head, and you weren’t quite sure whether it was you or Obi-Wan who’d thought it first. Perhaps it was both of you at the same time.

The image of the two of you scrambling apart would’ve been comical if you weren’t experiencing the shame firsthand, and despite trying to grab onto the duvet, you crashed onto the floor with a resounding thud. It barely hurt, but the humiliation made tears threaten to push at your eyes.

“Are- are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked, looking over the edge of the bed at you. On instinct, despite everything that had happened the night before, your hands went to cover yourself up, and Obi-Wan looked away. “Sorry-”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I just- we really shouldn’t have done that.” You looked around for your discarded clothes, getting dressed quickly, and Obi-Wan did the same, albeit a little more slowly.

He swallowed as he pulled up his trousers. “Maybe not, but… it wasn’t the worst thing to happen, right?”

“Define worst.”

“Come on darling, we have feelings for one another, the Jedi don’t have to know about us, sure, we messed up, but at least we know how we feel now, right?”

You turned to him, giving him a sad look. “We, two Jedi Knights, hooked up while drunk at a bar. We didn’t use protection. That itself should tell you something.” Obi-Wan didn’t say anything. “I’m going to check out, then find somewhere to get the morning after pill, and hopefully never think of this again.”

“I’m sorry for not thinking of protection, but surely you can’t regret this? Was everything you said last night a lie?”

You blinked, stepping around the bed so you were standing in front of him. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“No, I-”

“Obi-Wan.” You put a hand on his chest. “I was telling the truth when I said I had feelings for you. But you of all people should know this won’t work. People already suspect things, what would happen if they found out? We’d be kicked out of the Order.”

“We wouldn’t let them find out.”

“We can’t control that. Anyone could walk in, there are cameras, what example would we be setting to Wynnet and Anakin if they knew?”

“They already know, I’m pretty sure. They probably knew before we did.”

“You know what I mean.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “I understand. I don’t want to force you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” you said. “Believe me, I wish we could pursue something… it’s just not feasible.”

He nodded. “Okay. One last kiss for good luck?”

You rolled your eyes, but the offer was tempting. Of course he knew just what to say to ease the tension. You leaned in, and he captured your lips in his. You’d barely gotten used to kissing Obi-Wan, but you knew you’d miss it, even if just for the positive way your bond reacted. It’d be difficult to go back over this line of romance after crossing it, back to being friends, but you had to. But were you and Obi-Wan ever just friends in the first place? Your hands went to his face, fingertips running through his beard.

He laughed a little against your mouth. “Do you have to?” he asked, pulling away a little.

“What other chance am I going to get to feel your beard?” You went to kiss him again, not feeling like you’d got enough out of your last kiss just yet.

When you pulled apart, Obi-Wan grinned. “I don’t see anything inherently romantic about touching it if you want to. Friends can touch each other’s hair.”

You tried to fix him with a serious look, but just started laughing. “I suppose. I wouldn’t complain.”

After a few seconds, Obi-Wan spoke again. “Would you like me to come with you to get the pill?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Thank you.”

You both checked out of the hotel — thankfully a different person was working from last night, so no awkward interactions after what happened in front of them — and went to find the nearest pharmacy to get the pill.

“What if the Council finds out?” you asked. “They can track my purchase history, can’t they?”

“Sex isn’t against the rules, darling,” Obi-Wan reminded you. “But if you don’t want them to know, you can just say we ran into an unlucky girl, bought her a hotel room, then the next morning went to get the morning after pill for her. It’ll be alright, I promise.”

You covered your face with your hands and sighed. “That sounds alright. Sorry, I just-”

“You don’t need to apologise. I understand not wanting people to know about this.”

“But…” you trailed off. How were you supposed to tell Obi-Wan that you really did want to be in a relationship with him? It felt as though he thought you didn’t want to, but you wished you could date him properly. It just wouldn’t work out in the long run, no matter how strong your feelings were. You loved Obi-Wan, of course you did, but you also loved being a Jedi. It gave your life purpose. And while you knew sex wasn’t banned in the Order, it would put you both in a difficult position. You didn’t feel like you could adequately convey this to Obi-Wan without further ruining things, so you just… didn’t say it. “Thank you. You’re handling what’s essentially my rejection very well,” you said in almost a joking tone, trying to lighten the mood.

He shrugged. “I know you love me. And I know that the situation we’re in isn’t ideal for a bond like ours.”

Obi-Wan went into the pharmacy with you as you took the morning after pill — which was thankfully less scary than you’d anticipated — and afterwards, took you to a café to buy you a drink.

“Our Padawans have the day off,” he reasoned, “And we’ve already spent the night away from the Temple. If anyone’s noticed, I don’t think an extra half hour is going to have an effect on their reaction.”

He insisted on buying your caf for you, and you both sat in the window seat of the café, idly taking sips of your drinks.

“Well,” you said, “at least all of this has been an interesting experience for us.”

“It has indeed. If you genuinely never want to speak of this again, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that… I don’t think it’d be easy to convince other people that we’re just friends if we bring up our one night stand in front of them.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “Agreed. Well, as far as I’m concerned, we were just taking care of a random girl last night. That’s it.”

“That’s it.”

And that was it. You and Obi-Wan, as difficult as it was, returned to your previous status as best friends. For a little while, it was awkward to say the L-word or hug each other — the temptation to kiss him again was very real — but you were soon back to normal, thankfully. After that night, though, you used one of your non-Jedi contacts to get yourself the implant, making sure that no-one in the Order found out. You certainly did not want sex with Obi-Wan to become a regular occurence, but… just in case, you told yourself.

More years passed in relative normality. Your Padawans continued to grow up, Wynnet becoming a reliable Jedi who was only growing stronger in the Force (much to your delight) as well as more confident in her ‘witty’ remarks (to slightly less of your delight), as Anakin, while getting stronger, also seemed to argue more and more with his Master.

On your nights out together, complaining about Anakin became a regular feature of the conversation, and you suspected that Anakin complained about Obi-Wan just as much, if not more so, if what Wynnet told you was the case. She had spoken to him for you, which you appreciated, and things were a little smoother between them for a while, but not for long. You even spoke to your own Master about it, and while he empathised, he said that some Master-Padawan bonds just weren’t as smooth as the ones you’d been lucky enough to experience, and things would likely get better once Anakin became a Knight and he and Obi-Wan were more like equals.

This was almost definitely true, but it didn’t help in the here and now. You just had to sit there and listen to Obi-Wan, and make sympathetic noises. That was probably all he wanted anyway; just a means of ranting.

Another common point of conversation between the two of you was the increasing galactic tension. You didn’t like talking about it lots, but it was practically a given that it would be mentioned at least once per outing. This group of Separatists, led by Count Dooku himself, was gaining political ground, and it worried you. The fact that it was led by an ex-Jedi should have comforted you — when you were a Youngling, it wasn’t uncommon to see Master Dooku walking around the Temple — but it didn’t. Who knew the kind of man he was now?

One afternoon as you walked through the Temple, on the way to meet Wynnet, you saw Obi-Wan walking with Anakin and gave him a small smile. He stopped to speak to you, telling Anakin to carry on without him and that he’d catch up with him in a minute or two. Anakin just smirked and walked off.

“I’m glad I ran into you actually, I wanted to say you might not see me for a few weeks,” Obi-Wan explained. “Anakin and I have been assigned with the protection of Senator Amidala from Naboo — someone just made an attempt on her life, so we’ve got to keep her safe.”

“Wow, okay. That’s a shame for her. Senator Amidala… isn’t she the one who was there when you met Anakin for the first time?”

Obi-Wan pulled a face and nodded. “Yes, Anakin’s pretty excited about it. I should be off, sorry- I just thought I’d let you know I might not be available for a while.”

You smiled. “That’s alright, thanks for telling me. Enjoy being a bodyguard, I’m sure it’ll be very fun.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I bet. See you later, darling.”

“Bye, Obi-Wan.”

That was interesting, you thought to yourself as you carried on walking. Another protection-based assignment — the Council seemed to like giving those to Obi-Wan. At least this time it shouldn’t be for as long as the one on Mandalore. You didn’t know what you’d do if you went for a whole nother year without your best friend.

When you heard that Obi-Wan was taken captive on Geonosis, you immediately signed yourself up, alongside Wynnet, for the team which would be sent to help free them. Your old Master was coming too, and it was nice to speak to him again as everyone took the trip to the planet, preparing to help Obi-Wan.

There was a thick sense of excitement in the air as you stepped out into the arena with the rest of the Jedi, pulling out and igniting your lightsaber at the same time as everyone else.

Just in time to save you, I see, you said to Obi-Wan, and in the centre of the arena you saw his head turn to look at you — even with the distance, you could see his grin.

We had it covered, darling.

Did you? You laughed, and from beside you Wynnet gave you a look.

“Already talking to him?” she asked.

“Now what gives you that idea?”

“Just a hunch, Master.”

You rolled your eyes before running forwards to help fight the droids, deflecting blaster shots with your saber and striking through a new piece of metal everywhere you went. Something about it was exhilarating; you’d never felt all out battle like this before and it was giving you a rush quite unlike anything else.

When Obi-Wan, Anakin and Padmé leapt off the thing they’d been riding, you were quite close nearby.

“What brought you here?” you asked Anakin, avoiding several shots as you did so. “Shouldn’t you be on Naboo right now? That’s where I heard you were.”

Anakin just gave you a weird, not-quite grin. “Distress call. Same as you.”

That’s what his story is for now, Obi-Wan said. We’ll have to see what he says after this is all over.

The two of you shared a smile, before returning to the main fight. You’d never expected to find this kind of thing fun, but it actually was, connecting to the Force and relying on it to guide your movements against these droids. Sure, you noticed Jedi fall around you, but it didn’t exactly sink in that they were dead, it didn’t feel real.

Not until you saw Master Trebor leap up onto Count Dooku’s balcony, and he was shot straight back off it by the bounty hunter guarding him.

Your mouth opened in a silent cry as you watched the man who you considered family die before your eyes. You were frozen in place, what could you do? The consequences of the battle started to hit you all at once; Master Trebor was gone, you’d never again be able to go to him and receive his advice, you’d never be able to ask him any more of your countless questions about the galaxy and the Force, you’d never get another chance to feel that amazing comforting feeling you always felt after a good talk with your Master.

You only moved again as your Padawan jumped in front of you, deflecting a shot that surely would’ve been fatal had she not stepped in. “Kriff, Wynnet, I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright, Master,” she said. “We just have to carry on.”

Carry on. You did, cutting down droids left and right, but became hyper-aware of the decimation around you. Every once in a while you’d have to step over a fallen Jedi, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look down at yet another face, yet another person you’d lost.

No matter how many droids you took down, there always seemed to be another two to take its place, and slowly but surely you and the rest of the Jedi were pushed into a circle by the droids. Count Dooku addressed everyone, and it really felt like you’d lost.

Hey, if we don’t make it out of here, you said to Obi-Wan, who was standing on the opposite side of the circle to you and your Padawan, remember I love you.

You felt something reassuring sent across your bond, and found it within yourself to smile a little. How could I forget? I love you too, of course, but we are getting out of here. Don’t lose hope now.

“Look!” you heard Padmé shout, and followed her gaze. Up above you, multiple ships had arrived, carrying Master Yoda and- were those soldiers?

Did you have any idea about this? You asked Obi-Wan.

I’ll explain later.

As odd as it was, you were just glad for the help, and followed the other Jedi onto the gunship as the new soldiers helped ward off the droids. The ships flew you towards a larger one, to take you back to Coruscant, but even as you stepped onto it you couldn’t catch sight of Obi-Wan — at least you hadn’t felt that there was anything really wrong with him through the bond.

Instead, you turned your attention back to your Padawan. “Are you alright?” you asked her, and she looked up at you with a sigh.

“I’m alright. Just- this was a lot.”

“It was. But I’m proud of you; you performed well, and for that I owe you my life. Thank you, Wynnet.” You caught the look of happiness in her eyes at the compliment in the brief second before she composed herself again, and you had a weird moment of recognition; that expression was one you’d worn multiple times during your adolescence whenever Master Trebor complimented your progress. “This battle has just shown how much you’ve improved. Part of me wondered whether you’d be ready for real combat, but you’ve demonstrated how capable you really are today — you should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, Master. I appreciate that.” Wynnet paused. “But- how are you? After Master Trebor?”

You swallowed. “He is one with the Force now, Padawan,” you said. “I am sad, but we should celebrate the life he lived rather than grieve his death.”

You said that, but inside, you felt crushed. Master Trebor really had died, many years before he should’ve. The Jedi Order would miss his wisdom on the High Council… and you’d miss him even more than that.

As more time passed with no sign of Obi-Wan on the ship, you started to become more nervous. Was he alright? Part of you dreaded that he’d gone to fight Dooku and had been hurt in the process. You knew he was still alive, you’d have felt it if he wasn’t — you certainly felt Master Trebor’s death, and his bond was nowhere near as strong as yours and Obi-Wan’s — but you didn’t know whether you’d be able to tell if he was injured or not.

After what seemed like an age, you felt Obi-Wan’s Force signature nearing, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter in your seat. Wynnet noticed, looking over at you, but she didn’t say anything, she just grinned.

When he entered the room of the ship with all the Jedi in it alongside Anakin, Obi-Wan looked around for a second before his gaze landed on you, and you felt your heart jump a little when it did so. You both gave each other a small smile, and he looked as though he was about to walk straight to you before he was stopped for a conversation by Kit Fisto.

Sorry, darling, he said. I’ll be over in a minute, then we can find somewhere to talk.

He soon was, apologising to Wynnet for stealing you before taking your arm and leading you from the room. Wynnet only smiled and said it was no problem.

When you found a more private part of the ship, the first thing Obi-Wan did was pull you into a hug. You hadn’t realised how much you’d needed one, and you found yourself sinking into his arms, Obi-Wan doing the same.

“So- what was the deal with all of that?” you asked.

Obi-Wan explained the situation with the clones, the fact that he’d taken a trip to Kamino and left Anakin with Padmé, but they’d both somehow wound up on Geonosis alongside him. Dooku’s new Dark powers, his claim that a Sith Lord was controlling the senate and his bid for Obi-Wan to join him. Their duel after the fight in the arena, and the way Yoda had saved both him and Anakin.

You were shocked. “Things really are changing,” you said.

Obi-Wan grimaced. “I think they have been for a while. We’re only just starting to feel the effects of it now.”

You leaned into Obi-Wan’s arms again. “I’m just glad you’re okay. We lost too many good people today.”

He sighed. “I saw — and felt — what happened with Master Trebor. It’s awful, I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t believe it. I know he wouldn’t want me to be sad, but… I can’t really help it. You get it, right?”

“Yes, I really do.” Obi-Wan rubbed a comforting arm against your back. “At least Wynnet’s alright. And Anakin. And Padmé. I dread to think what Anakin would have faced if she’d died today.”

“Has he explained yet?”

“Nope.”

Despite it all, you found yourself laughing a little. “Of course he hasn’t.” You paused. “Do you think there’s something… going on with them? The way they were looking at each other in the arena was pretty intense.”

“So I’m not the only one who noticed it. He acts very interestingly around her; you should’ve seen how he was when they met for the first time since Naboo. Completely put his foot in his mouth. You’d think he’d have figured out how to talk to girls by now, but it seems not.”

“Aww, that’s quite cute,” you said. “Do you think she feels the same?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Maybe. She seemed a little uncomfortable with his comments at first, but who knows what happened between them on Naboo. Perhaps he wormed his way into her heart with more very odd interactions.”

“I mean, how else would he do it? It wasn’t like Yoda was going to sit the two of them down and tell them to like each other.”

You earned a laugh for that. “That would be funny,” Obi-Wan said. “I can just imagine it. Be friends, you must.”

“Make googly eyes at each other, you should.” After giggling for a few seconds, you paused. “Should we head back to see the others? The ship will probably go into hyperspace soon.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

So you both walked back to the room you were in before, finding your Padawans together alongside Padmé Amidala, who must’ve arrived in the time since you’d left. She gave you both a smile, and greeted Obi-Wan before speaking to you directly.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you,” she said.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Senator,” you smiled.

“I’ve just been speaking to your Padawan. She and Ani tell me that you and Obi-Wan are close?”

Ani- what? You thought for a second, before realising what she’d actually said to you. It took all your effort not to turn to Obi-Wan and give him a confused look. “Yes, I suppose we are close — we’re good friends.”

Nice save, Obi-Wan said in your head, and you really hoped you weren’t blushing as Wynnet and Anakin shared a grin. Kriff, why was that the first thing she said to you?

“Well, I can respect anyone who’s friends with Anakin and Obi-Wan,” Padmé said. “Hopefully I can see you again in the future, but Ani told me there was something he wanted to show me on the ship, so-”

“Of course, Senator, that’s no problem. I’m glad I’ve had the chance to speak to you.” Subtle of Anakin, you added through the bond.

Very.

The two walked away, leaving you with Wynnet and Obi-Wan. “Is having a crush on a Senator against the Jedi Code, Master?” Wynnet asked. “Asking for a friend.”

“Padawan,” you groaned, but you couldn’t stop the smile on your face. Obi-Wan was grinning too, although it looked like he was trying to mask it.

“I’m just curious as to what he’s showing her,” Wynnet continued. “I hope it’s nothing too bad.”

“I need you to stop hanging around with that Skywalker,” you sighed. “His snark is rubbing off on you.”

“Hey, no need to bring my Padawan into this!” Obi-Wan protested.

“The only one he’s rubbing off on is Senator Amidala,” Wynnet added quietly.

“Honestly. You’re all awful,” you feigned disgust. “Such impure thoughts.”

Despite all that had just transpired, the atmosphere between you was light as you returned to Coruscant, and it stayed that way when Anakin and Padmé got back from whatever they were doing with each other. When you got back, however, word began to spread about changes made to the Order, about the Clone Wars which had just begun, and the cheer dissipated rather quickly, replaced with a dull sense of worry.

What is going to happen to the Jedi? you found yourself thinking as you laid in bed that night. More losses seemed almost inevitable, first your Master, what if your Padawan was taken too? Anakin? Obi-Wan? You only hoped that things would improve soon, but as you fell asleep, you were filled with anxiety about the future- about your future, Obi-Wan's, and everyone’s who you cared for.

and there's chapter three! I hope you enjoyed it :)

chapter four » fic masterlist » main masterlist