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pucksandpower · 5 months

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Say My Name

Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader

Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before

Warnings: 18+ content

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”

The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.

You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.

“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.

You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.

Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”

He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.

You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”

But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.

“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”

“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”

“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”

Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.

The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.

Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.

Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”

Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”

Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.

“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.

I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.

Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.

Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.

Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.

Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?

Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.

No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.

Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.

“Oscar, what are you-”

But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.

Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.

With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”

Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.

The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.

“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”

He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”

Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”

Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”

The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.

The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.

After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.

He’s your everything.

***

Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.

“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.

When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”

“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”

“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”

Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.

On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”

A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.

When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.

Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.

It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.

Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.

He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.

When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”

“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.

But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.

“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.

“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.

His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.

So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.

At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.

All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.

Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.

“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”

His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.

“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.

You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.

His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.

“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.

The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.

It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.

Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.

“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.

More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.

At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.

The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”

He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.

Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...

Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.

You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.

You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.

When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.

“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”

So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.

At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.

When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.

As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.

For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.

Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.

You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.

Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.

Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.

Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”

He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.

“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”

He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”

Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?

Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.

“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.

So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.

“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”

His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.

“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”

You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.

And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.

Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?

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hyunesent · 2 months

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. ۫𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪ SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL

"The idea of exploring the beauty and complexity of the human body and physical connections wasn't uninteresting, and you couldn't think of a better person to do it with other than the one sitting next to you."

art student!hyunjin x art student!reader (afab)

chapter cw: pining, drinking, masturbation (m + f), depictions of oral sex (f receiving) and p in v sex, pre-cum eating. I honestly wanted to do a lot more in this chapter but I also want the slow burn ;p

Chapter 1: Beneath the surface

How could you not be entranced by him? Where the scent of paint thinner mingled with the whisper of the sound of paintbrushes on canvases, you found yourself drawn to the figure at the far easel; conveniently placed at a comfortable pining distance.

An unmistakable art style so different from your own paired with his sculpted features. His presence was an intricate masterpiece of quiet confidence and unspoken dreams. Each brushstroke he made, imbued with a natural fluidity, seemed to capture the essence of something ineffable, something you yearned to unravel.

Hyunjin was a study of classical beauty. Dark, expressive eyes, often framed by a fringe of soft, slightly tousled hair, and his lips, full and slightly pouted as he fully engrossed himself in his work. But of course, your admiration didn't halt at appreciation for his artistry. You couldn't help but cross your legs tighter when you caught a glimpse of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and your thoughts could not help but wonder how smooth it would feel against–

“I have already assigned you all partners for this conceptual art task you have been given, these have been chosen strategically so I want you to all challenge yourselves and each other to push your creative boundaries for this piece. Each pair will be given an abstract concept to interpret and express in three different mediums. The themes will be emailed to you separately this evening but for now, I will send you all the list of pairs so ensure you have means to contact them.”

You paid little mind to your professor's description of the task assigned to you but perked up while packing your stuff away at the last sentence. As you carefully slung your bag over your shoulder you felt the vibration in your pocket, clicking on the notification your eyes pulsed open with a mix of emotions when you saw your name next to Hyunjin’s.

Sure you were acquainted with him in class and had worked with him in group settings before but that was all at a comfortable distance where there was no need for the two of you to understand each other on a deeper level. Your excitement and anticipation transitioned into panic as a tall shadow covered you.

You look up and are greeted with a short yet soft smile from the man before you and are instantly weak in the knees. There was a moment where you were allowed to take in the way he looked so effortlessly perfect with his hair pulled out of his face with a hair tie and you had to stop yourself from frowning as he swiftly released it allowing his to fall to his collarbones as he raked his hands through it. He spoke so comfortably as the two of you walked side by side out of the building.

“Y/n I was wondering if you’re okay to start the project today we can meet after my shift? I’m honestly excited to do this assignment,” He looks at you and lets out a chuckled sigh “It seems so much more interesting than the last.”

You almost roll your eyes at the memory of the material studies essay that was due and it provokes Hyunjin's contagious laugh. The two of you light-heartedly complain as you reminisce about the sleepless nights spent on such an unfulfilling part of the course.

After a few minutes, you make it clear that you're more than happy to start the project tonight and he sweetly expresses gratitude before hastily saying goodbye to ensure he won't be late for work. You make your way to your dorm blissfully and in contrast to your usual bed rotting and doom-scrolling combo you get in the shower. Hours later your phone lights up several times.

Hyunjin: Just got back to my dorm, gonna shower and order food for us Hyunjin: be here in an hour? Hyunjin: and don't open the email with our theme!!! Hyunjin: let's do it together so we can brainstorm Hyunjin: see you soon :)

As you scroll down, the last notification catches your eye—an email from your professor. Smiling fondly at Hyunjin’s messages, you swipe the notification away. Biting your lip to silence a laugh, you can't help but notice how playful his demeanour is through text, a sharp contrast to the mysterious allure he maintains in person. Setting your phone aside, you put a little extra effort into your appearance, more than you usually would for a simple assignment, before making your way to his dorm.

When you arrived at your assignment partner's dorm, your heart pounded in sync with your tentative knock on the door. When Hyunjin opened it, his warm smile and lingering gaze made your pulse race.

Stepping inside, you were pleasantly surprised by the room's unexpected sensuality. Soft lighting bathed the space in a golden glow, while the scent of sandalwood and paint lingered in the air. Abstract paintings in Hyunjins distinctive style adorned the walls, each one more evocative than the last. You always knew Hyunjin enjoyed more provocative themes in class but this was different, more intimate.

Your eyes met again, and his gentle, lingering stares hinted at something unreadable, making you feel both exhilarated and at ease. As you settled in to get ready to work on your project, Hyunjin took your jacket from you and hung it next to his before coming back to where you were seated with two glasses of wine. You take it from him with a warm smile and a whispered thank you then take a sip before placing it down next to his.

“What do you think the theme is going to be?” he asked, his attentive eyes fixated on yours. “Not a clue,” you replied after a moment's thought. “I think it’s cool we’re all doing different themes, though. It'll be interesting to see everyone’s interpretations.”

He nodded in agreement before taking out his phone and unlocking it, positioning himself so you could see the screen. He spared you a glance, a silent plea that the theme assigned would be intriguing. As he opened the email and scrolled down, you read together, and the disparity between your synced reactions was almost comical. The Human Form and Intimacy. As you read those words, a blush crept up your cheeks, almost as if you had been found guilty of something. Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin’s eyes gleamed with something exhilarating.

“Oh my God, that’s so good!” he exclaimed, looking over at you with an uncontainable smile. You instinctively sat up straighter. “There’s so much we can do with this. I’m so excited.” You couldn’t help but feel a warmth seeing the genuine joy exuding from Hyunjin. His passion for his craft was truly admirable. In comparison, you were much more of a stay-inside-the-lines kind of person, not as outgoing or experimental with your art or your personal life. However, despite your initial hesitation, the idea of exploring the beauty and complexity of the human body and physical connections wasn't uninteresting. And you couldn't think of a better person to do it with than the one sitting next to you.

The room was quiet save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint scratching of pencils on paper. Hyunjin suggested the two of you brainstorm ideas and then feedback to each other. He sat comfortably at his desk, his posture relaxed and confident, while you fidgeted with your supplies. The theme of the assignment, "The Human Form and Intimacy," loomed large in your mind, casting a shadow of nervousness over your creativity. Hyunjin’s ease with the subject was palpable. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he began sketching and writing, effortlessly capturing the fluid grace of the human body in simplified forms and creating lists of ideas on what mediums could be used. You, on the other hand, found your hands trembling slightly as you tried to put pencil to paper. The suggestive nature of the theme felt almost too intimate and too revealing, and you struggled to express yourself without feeling exposed.

Sensing your discomfort, Hyunjin looked up from his work, his gaze softening. "You seem a bit nervous," he said gently, his voice a soothing murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. "Are you okay with this theme?" You hesitated, biting your lip before nodding slowly. "I’ve never really done anything like this before. It feels…vulgar, almost. I’m not sure how to be open and expressive with something so personal."

Hyunjin listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze a comforting anchor. "I understand," he said softly. He did, sex and intimacy weren't something that he took lightly either and he understood why holding it in such high regard would cause a sense of conflict for a task like this. "It can be intimidating to delve into such intimate themes, but there’s a lot of beauty in it too. The human form, the connections we share, they’re all part of our most profound experiences."

He paused, then continued, his voice low and sincere, laced with a quiet intensity. "There’s something incredibly powerful about capturing those moments of vulnerability. It’s not just about intercourse; it’s about the raw, unfiltered connection between people. That’s what I find beautiful." With that, he reached for a sketchbook tucked away on his shelf, one he rarely showed to anyone. He silently handed it to you, so you opened it and saw page after page filled with sensual sketches, each one a masterful depiction of human bodies intertwined in moments of passion or singular bodies enjoying their own pleasure and tenderness. The drawings were explicit, yes, but there was a grace and elegance to them that transcended the vulgarity you had feared. Hyunjin’s eyes met yours as he explained, "These sketches are my way of exploring and celebrating intimacy. They’re meant to capture the beauty of those private, sacred moments."

You were taken aback, but also deeply intrigued. His perspective was so different from your own, and yet, you couldn’t help but be drawn to it. Growing up, you were always taught to view sex as something simple and utilitarian, a straightforward act with a singular purpose. Your upbringing, steeped in traditional values, framed intimacy as a means to an end, devoid of nuance or emotion. However, as you grew older and moved out on your own, the world began to unfold in all its complexity. You found yourself exploring new ideas and experiences, each one peeling back layers of understanding. You discovered that sex could be a profound expression of love, a dance of trust, or a celebration of physical pleasure. It was a spectrum of emotions and connections, each encounter adding depth to your perception. Still, in spite of your own experiences, you couldn't deny how affected you were seeing the array of drawings in front of you.

Your cheeks and ears felt flushed as your eyes scanned over sketches of women and men indulging in self-pleasure, each figure rendered with exquisite detail and sensitivity. The scratches of his pencil conveyed a palpable sense of ecstasy, from the arch of a woman's back to the intense focus in a man's gaze as he explored his own pleasure. The sheets rustled softly as you turned them, your fingers trembling slightly, each new image a testament to Hyunjin's ability to capture the beauty and intensity of human desire. You could feel his intense gaze on you but the embarrassment you felt from it did not overtake your curiosity to keep turning the page. There was an undeniable attraction, an arousal even, in the way he spoke about and depicted sex and intimacy through his art. His passion was contagious, stirring something within you. Your heart pounded and a wetness collected in your underwear, unable to quell the surge of arousal these intimate. It was as if you could feel the passion emanating from the pages, each drawing tightening the feeling in your core and causing your pathetic attempt at clenching around nothing.

That did not go unnoticed. Too focused on calming yourself down you did not see the way Hyunjin’s eyes darkened. "I’ve always believed that art should make you feel something," he said, his voice a hushed whisper that seemed to wrap around you. "It should stir your soul, make your heart race. That’s what these drawings do for me. They’re not just about the physical act, but about the emotions behind it, the intimacy and trust."

You finally found the courage to look up at him and he almost gasped seeing your glossed over eyes. You felt a warmth spreading through you, a mix of admiration and a burgeoning desire to explore this new realm of expression. "I’ve always been afraid to push boundaries, to really let go," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. Hyunjin’s hand reached out, his thumb lightly brushing over the back of your hand in a gesture that was both reassuring and electrifying. "Art is about breaking those boundaries," he said softly. "It’s about being brave enough to express your true self, to explore the depths of your emotions."

You nodded, your eyes locked onto his, feeling a profound connection forming between you. "I want to try," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. His smile was warm and encouraging. "We can explore this together," he promised. His gaze loitered on you taking you in and feeling your genuinity. Hyunjin watched you with a mix of intense curiosity and restrained desire, the intimacy of the recent conversation hanging palpably between you. Your flushed cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled with a blend of excitement and sensitivity made his pulse quicken.

He had been able to sense the subtle shift in your energy and posture, a silent admission of arousal that mirrored the growing tent in his pants. He felt a powerful urge to bridge the gap between your feelings, to show you the depths of his passion in a more tangible way. Yet, as the moment stretched on, he wrestled with his own impulses, determined to remain respectful and honour the delicate trust you had just begun to build. With a deep breath, he chose to focus on your shared journey of exploration and expression, channelling his desire into a mutual understanding rather than a physical advance.

As you continued to talk, the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the intoxicating possibility of what you could create together. The nervousness began to retreat, replaced by a growing curiosity and a need to understand Hyunjin’s perspective. You found a new sense of freedom, a permission to explore your creativity without fear. Hyunjin had gone to refill your glasses and the two of you had decided that the three mediums you would be using for this project were oil painting (hyunjin’s speciality), sculpting and photography. The alcohol prevented your mind from wandering too much about what that would entail so instead you spent the rest of the evening basking in each other's company trying to push aside any lingering thoughts.

The street lamps cast a warm glow on the quiet campus as Hyunjin and you strolled side by side. Your footsteps echoed softly against the brick buildings, a rhythmic soundtrack to your shared silence. The evening air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of summer nights and possibility. Hyunjin glanced at the girl beside him, admiring how the golden light played across your features. Your brow furrowed slightly as you clutched your sketchbook to your chest, no doubt still pondering your art assignment. He longed to smooth away that tiny crease with his thumb, to feel the softness of your skin beneath his touch. "Thank you for walking me back," you murmured, breaking the silence. Your voice was low, almost reverent in the stillness of the night. Hyunjin's lips curved into a gentle smile, his own voice a rich timbre that seemed to resonate in the space between them. "I couldn't let you walk alone at this hour."

As you approached your dorm building, your pace slowed unconsciously, neither quite ready for the evening to end. Hyunjin's hand brushed against yours, a whisper of contact that sent electricity coursing through both your bodies. He heard your sharp intake of breath and felt his heart rate quicken in response. You came to a stop before the entrance, turning to face each other. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension. Hyunjin's gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, dark and luminous in the lamplight. "I had a lovely time tonight," you said softly, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sketchbook. Hyunjin nodded, swallowing hard. "So did I. Your ideas for the project were inspiring."

You couldn't help but smile at that knowing how much of an inspiration he was to you. His hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips lingered, tracing the delicate outline of your jaw. You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief, exquisite moment.

When you opened them again, Hyunjin saw a flash of something primal in their depths – a hunger that mirrored his own. His hand lingered over yours, not willing to break the connection. At that moment, the air between them seemed charged with possibility. Hyunjin leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. You tilted your face up, your lips parting slightly in anticipation. But all too soon, realisation hit and you stepped back, breaking the spell, leaving you both breathless and aching. With a final, gentle squeeze of your hand, Hyunjin stepped back. You look at him wordless and it seems he caught on as he spoke for you.

"Goodnight," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Goodnight, Hyunjin," you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you turned and entered your dorm. As the door closed behind you, Hyunjin let out a shaky breath. He stood there for a moment, his mind replaying the evening, before slowly making his way back to his dorm. The walk back was a blur, Hyunjin's mind consumed by replaying every moment of your interaction. The soft brush of your arm against his as they walked, the way your eyes had widened when he'd touched your face, the barely audible catch in your breath. As soon as his door clicked shut behind him, Hyunjin leaned against it, his head falling back with a soft thud. The scent of your perfume clung to his clothes, a constant reminder of your closeness. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to shake off the intense arousal that had been building all evening.

Once inside your room, you leaned against the door, your heart pounding. The memory of Hyunjin's touch lingered on your skin, igniting a fire within you. Closing your eyes you imagined what might have happened if you’d been brave enough to kiss him. Hyunjin lay in his dorm bed, the dim light of the night sky seeping through his window, casting shadows that danced and flickered across his body. The memory of the evening lingered a heavy warmth that seemed to permeate everything. You had both held back, yearning to give in to your desires, but unable to find the courage to cross that final line. Now, as he lay there with his eyes closed, the pressure built within him. His hand drifted down his chest, fingers ghosting over the thin fabric of his shirt. He imagined your touch instead of his own, delicate yet curious, exploring the planes of his body. Hyunjin felt the throbbing need that had been building up inside him. He closed his eyes and thought of you, your body warm and inviting, gripping his hardness, guiding him inside you

In a room not too far from his, you laid in your bed, heart pounding in sync with his own. The memories of your evening together were just as fresh in your mind, and as you imagined his touch, your own arousal began to build once more, your body responding to his thoughts as if you were in the same room, touching each other. You ran your hand down your body, skin tingling from the friction of your fingers against you. Your thoughts were filled with the image of him, his bare chest rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing. You visualized your body gliding over his, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss, your wet tongues exploring each other's mouths. When you reached between your legs, you felt a surge of desire for him, growing stronger with every stroke against your pussy. You imagined him between your legs, his face buried in your folds as he eagerly and desperately pleasured you. You could envision the intense focus in his eyes, his lips glistening with your arousal allowing him to taste his min rain with all the things he wanted to do to you; like you were his canvas waiting to be covered. Your breathing became more ragged, moans escaping your lips, hips arching off the bed as your hand worked faster and faster, seeking the release you craved.

Hyunjin's thoughts grew more intense, imagining you wet and aroused, your body yearning for his touch just as much as he longed for yours. His hand moved in a steady rhythm, his grip becoming more firm with each stroke. The sight of his own arousal, glistening in the dim light, was a tantalizing sight. The scent of sweat and arousal filled the air, musky and heady. His scent mixed with yours in his mind, creating an aroma that only fueled his desire. His lips were parted as he panted, his mouth dry and craving a taste. He imagined your lips on his, your dripping cunt. As his hand moved over his swollen tip, he could feel the stickiness of his desire. He brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick them in anticipation. He whined and bucked his hips up to the taste of his own pre-cum lingering on his tongue, salty and sweet. Yet he couldn't help but wonder what it would taste like mixed with yours.

He envisioned you climaxing beneath him, your body writhing in pleasure as he brought you to a shuddering, soul-shaking orgasm. The thought of your cries of ecstasy, the feel of your hot, wet core clenching around him, sent him over the edge. You imagined him cumming, his throbbing erection releasing its load deep within you, filling you, completing the connection you both craved. Your fingers slick with your arousal, were thrust inside yourself, your body responding to the fantasy as if it were your own touch that you needed. A hand came up to silence your loud whimpers. Your body convulsed, your orgasm taking over. Your body shook with the intensity of the climax. It was as if you could feel him inside you, your bodies moving in tandem, desires finally merging into a single, unified experience.

Hyunjin's orgasm was explosive, the rush of pleasure so intense that it felt as if every nerve ending in his body was alight. His climax crashed over him in waves parallel to the ropes of cum that landed on his stomach. He imagined you, your face scrunched in pleasure, your body locked in the throes of your release At that moment, miles apart, their highs intertwined as if they were physically touching each other. The heavy warmth of the emotions seeped into the air once more, leaving behind a memory that would never be forgotten. Hyunjin lay in his dorm bed, still trembling from the intensity of his release. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. They might not have crossed the line that night, but the connection they had built was undeniable, and the desire that burned between them was only just beginning.

𝘼𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: This is a work of fiction not a portrayal of anyone in real life. THIS TOOK SO LONG TO POST. I'm excited to continue this series, I have a few ideas for the smut and how it will link to the mediums chosen. I think the sculpting will be my favourite to write. I also really want to develop Hyunjin's character a lot in this so stay tuned for that Likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated. Happy reading .ᐟ

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jweekgoji · 2 months

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Yandere!Five/Reader.

wow how long has it been? two years since I wrote something for TUA? I still haven't rewatched it since I'm finally catching up with breaking bad but I hope I'll rewatch TUA next week or so. for some strange reason I feel that weird feeling like I need to come back to my fav fictional family with bread and milk and concentrate on it ughhh. when I rewatch it I will check that requests I had before for TUA and will finish them!

tw: yandere Five, unhealthy obsession, mentions of the reader's death, Five has ZERO moments of peace here, angst, controlling Five, mentions of Five's childhood, sort of happy ending?

I'm probably describing my thoughts sooo bad don't be mad please

Like we know, Reginald wasn't afraid to use his own «children» for every heroic mission. Bank robbery? He'll make a 14 year old kids deal with it. Some villains are trying to cause problems? Well, another time to test Number 1's leadership skills, no time for a happy childhood, kiddos! And that is basically what their life is.

Basically, the only source from which they can get the feeling of being needed, loved by the public, and recognized, if not by their father but by the citizens. Reginald trained them well, as long as there are 6 of them, they can deal with any kind of problem. I mean, come on, they're THE Hargreeves, one of the strongest people in the world who have unique superpowers, it's not like something might go wrong one day.

Five was always the most compatible member of the team, always trying to be the best. Despite only being the fifth in the ranking, it doesn't stop him from showing off every time he taunts another criminal, making them lose their minds in attempts to catch him.

It was another day when he and his siblings would find a criminal to deal with. Everything went smoothly, as Luther would discuss the plan with everyone. Klaus and Ben would be outside waiting for the signal, Allison and Luther would be the ones to distract the criminals from the hostages and Diego should disarm them before causing any serious trouble. Five would be the one who would save the hostages.

I think his abilities help the most in such situations. He can teleport any person away in just seconds and lead them into safety, no one would even notice. And if something happens, Five is capable enough to fight by himself.

You are the last hostage he protects now. He had already saved more than 10 people non-stop before, and for some reason, his powers refused to work. It's not like he is weak or something, no, no, just give him some time to catch his breath, and he will continue in a moment! He can't let someone see him like this, let alone let his father find out about this little problem.

He would huff and puff about it, probably imagining how Diego or Klaus were teasing him, how Five was losing his cool and accidentally forgetting how his own powers were working due to what a pretty little hostage Five talked to! And they're close to his age too, so it would be natural for his age to get shy and awkward in front of someone cute he found~! Well, at least it's exactly what he imagines hearing from Klaus after the mission.

Five wasn't quiet around people, usually. He enjoys talking with his siblings, well, with some of them—and he finds it amusing to toy with criminals.

For some reason, he is quiet around you.

Of course, he would try to reassure you that everything is fine, he is a good guy here, and soon enough, you would be safe. The only thing you have to do is just listen to him and follow his lead.

He didn't suspect everything, of course, and was so full of himself even at such an age, thinking nothing would go wrong. You were around his age, and naturally, despite being an arrogant little brat, he did find you quite cute. Maybe, if he had a different life, he would have approached you in different circumstances.

But Five learned the hard way that he's not the strongest and could never be the number one. He would never be able to save everyone. He just stopped paying attention for a one damn second, and the next thing he heard, was a gunshot. Five could feel your hand slipping away from his own, and he would look back just in time to see you almost stumbling, only to catch you in his own arms. Blood painted his dark blue uniform in red.

After that incident, Five became more obsessed with the idea of time travelling. If at first he wanted to prove to his father that he is capable of much more, to show that he's actually much better than everyone, this idea also feeds off his guilt. His first mistake, the only time he failed to do his task. And he just can't let go of it, no matter how much Viktor tries to tell him that it's really not his fault, that he couldn't predict it.

And then, during dinner, he runs away, despite Viktor silently begging him not to do it. Then he blinks again, again, and again, until it's nothing but ruins surrounding him. Until The Handler decides to pay him a visit, expect that he will probably be much more calculative and controlling. 40 years of being alone did it's horrible job on his mind, every day trying to survive while thinking about a possible way out of this situation. Maybe, if he makes much better calculations, he will actually succeed. But being away from humanity for so long makes him crave human contact, he already had that mannequin, Dolores, he could find, talking every day to her about how he actually missed his family, how he wants at least some kind of sick normalcy he had back in the academy. At least he had a place to live without worrying every day about his own survival.

During these moments, where he actually gives himself some time to be weak, he wonders would he still do this if you were still alive? Would he still risk everything just to make his father proud?

He didn't know much about you before. The police shortly said that day that one of the employees had a child in the building, and they were taken hostages by the villains. You were around his age, a young, probably promising student in your normal school, with caring parents and friends who worried about you. Something he craved deeply, even though he would have never admitted it.

When he couldn't have teleported you away safely, he led you through the second way out. He can tell you were scared. Of course, who wouldn't be? It's not like you were used to it. He isn't the gentlest person, more like focused on the business and how to end it all as fast as possible. But you were shaking mess, asking from time to time if it's safe or is actually everything okay? Five, in his some kind of nonchalant and gruff manner, would only nod, reassuring you that his siblings probably dealt with the villains by that time.

You looked so normal for him. You had no powers, no one made you train every day just to bend you into their high expectations, you didn't have to compete for someone's love and approval. You acted like he's just a normal person too, never bothering him with questions about his brothers or a sister, not trying to peek into some secret life of the Hargreeves family. Do you even know who he is?

Eventually, he can't remember who exactly started the dialogue. Was it you, who just wanted to talk about something so boring like your school life, or like that you probably skipped a few classes and missed a math test? Or was it him, remembering his trainings how he should try to make the worried and scared hostage less afraid by making a small talk with them? He's too old to remember every single detail. But he certainly remembered that he at least listened to what you said to him. That he was actually looking at you, giving you his full attention.

Maybe if he was born into a normal family, he would have had a chance to live that normal life with you. But that would be too kind to wish for, wasn't it? Now, that his hands are covered in blood of so many innocent people he had to kill, asking for a normal life is impossible. Even after taking hundreds of lives, he still can't understand why is the sight of yours in his hands any different? He thought he would be used to it by now. What kind of evil God makes him see it over and over again, in every goddamn timeline?

First, it was a villain killing you right in front of him. Second, it was the Swedes who killed you the next day they saw Five trying to talk to you. He almost lost his mind when he spotted you living near the same hotel where his siblings and he decided to stay. But once again, the more problems just followed, leading to another damn disaster to take you away.

When he lost his powers, he didn't know if he should feel relieved or more concerned about it. Of course, that means that he probably has to find Reginald, to get more answers about what the hell happened in this new universe. But that also meant that he finally has a chance to live like a normal person too. Like you did.

He was unfamiliar with this world. He felt lost, humiliated most of the time now that everyone treat him like he's actually younger than he is. At least people stopped treating him like a child, yet he still has to deal with someone underestimating him. He has to find a job, a place to live, for God's sake, how the hell is he going to live without any documents here?

The fate seemed to be connecting you two once again, as it seemed. You would meet him accidentally, one time you just saw him visiting a café you were working for and the same process would repeat again. This time, he would actually remember every single little detail. He would approach you first, carefully and as politely as he could. He still thinks that if he makes even the smallest mistake, he would experience your loss once again. This time he won't screw up, he would plan everything strictly to his scenario. Your meeting, your first date, your first 'I love you'. You might think he's just the most perfect guy you ever met, which actually... would not be so far from the truth? ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

#yandere x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #yandere five hargreeves x reader #yandere tua #yandere the umbrella academy #yandere five hargreeves #yandere number five #number five x reader #number five #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #yandere imagines #tw yandere #male yandere

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euovennia · 2 years

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"what's so funny?" | task force 141

this blurb has been on my mind so much ever since it first appeared in my inbox and i'm so happy to have finally written it, my dumb little gen z brain couldn't resist. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: youngest!reader x (platonic) task force 141

warnings: none

summary: the team gets curious when you seem to having just a little too much fun while scrolling through your phone. (based on this request)

The team doesn't seem to notice your small huffs of laughter at first, and if they do, they don't seem to give it a second thought. Why would they? You laughing at random videos on your phone had practically become second nature to them by this point. So, they remain quiet, each of them doing their own separate thing in the common area. Gaz reading some random article about sharks on his phone, Ghost and Soap watching some low-budget action film on the television, and Price busying himself with some random crossword from a book of puzzles he'd picked up for himself not too long ago. They don't bother to interrupt your screen time as you sit propped up in the corner with your phone in your hands. They've come to learn you're often far too enthralled with the minute long videos you religiously scroll through to give them more than a quick smile of acknowledgement. They don't mind, however, it seems to make you happy.

Even so, they can't help but each feel a little curious as your faint smiles of amusement turn into small fits of giggles that you can barely contain with a painful bite to your lip. By the time Gaz finishes up reading his article, you're practically bursting at the seams as you try to contain your laughter. He watches you from across the room with great interest as you give your phone screen another swipe with a swift movement of your thumb. He keeps his eyes concentrated on your smiling face, eagerly waiting to see your reaction to the video you're currently watching. He's glad he did, because he's first to witness the way your resolve practically shatters as you fall into a loud fit of laughter. Each of the men give each other a shared look before Ghost stands up from the uncomfortable couch and makes his way over to you.

He stops just a few steps shy of you, "What's so funny?"

You give yourself a moment to calm down and take in a deep breath before handing him your phone with a large grin. He watches the video, his brows knitting themselves together in a state of confusion before he looks back down at you once the short video is finished playing.

"You're kidding me."

You grab your phone from his hands and haphazardly place it back onto the small table before standing up and grabbing his wrist.

"We need to do that, now."

He lets out a grunt, "We're not fuckin'–"

He's cut off by you reaching forward and grabbing onto his wrist with a soft touch.

"Please? I really wanna do it."

His eyes flicker back over to the video that's looping itself on your phone before settling his gaze back onto you who's staring up at him with a dopey grin and hopeful eyes. He's found he has a hard time saying no to you nowadays.

He sighs, "Fine."

Your face glistens with delight at his words and you're quick to pull him away from the room with the rest of the team still being able to hear you say something like, "this is gonna be so funny!"

Price, convinced you've whisked Ghost away to take part in something diabolical, quickly gets up from his chair and makes his way over to your abandoned phone. He picks it up with a careful grip and watches the video that's still looping.

Soap is the first to speak up after a few moments have passed, "What was it?"

Price's face is one of pure confusion as he turns the phone to face the men awaiting his response, "It's just a slice of bread falling over."

Gaz's face lights up as he gets up from his seat, "I wanna see some bread fall over," He cheers before rushing off in the direction of where you had taken Ghost.

The remaining two men watch him scurry off before turning to each other, the eldest of the two looking exceptionally confused as he speaks out, "Is this meant to be funny?"

Soap shrugs, "I prefer the one where the bread is having flashbacks, but the original one is fine too."

Price gapes at the Scotsman, "Flashbacks?!"

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imyourbratzdoll · 8 months

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Tangerine smut please?

hi! sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy this request!

summary - a handsome stranger makes you cum on the train.

warning - smut, fingering, public stuff.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

The day started off perfect, you decided to wear your new outfit that consisted of a black long sleeved shirt underneath a cropped green button up and a matching short skirt. You made yourself the perfect coffee and headed to the train station before finding the perfect seat inside. You drowned out the rest of the world, your head buried in a book. Until you are suddenly pulled out of it by three men sitting on the seats beside you, your eyes widen when you make eye contact with a very attractive man in a blue suit.

You try to ignore them by focusing on your book but their constant whispering pierce through your concentration and you nearly drop your book as you hear a voice. “Excuse me, love.” You look back up and notice the handsome man now standing over you. You can feel yourself pulse between your legs and it’s confusing because you’ve never reacted like this before. “Do you mind if I sit here? You see, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are and my brother is being a pain.” You blink, slowly nodding and sucking in a breath as he slides into the seat next to you, his scent causing you to become dizzy with lust. “Thanks, love.”

You try to go back to your book, but you can’t and you can feel him staring at you once in a while. You begin to squirm in your seat, his thigh brushes against you causing a whimper to escape before you can stop it. Your face flushes, eyes wide and you try to hide.

Tangerine smirks. “Do I make you nervous, love?” You ignore him, scooting closer to the window, feeling embarrassed because you want to jump him. “You know, I know something that will take those nerves away, love. Do you wanna try?” You look at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you stare at him with wide eyes. “But you’ll have to very quiet, I wouldn’t want to punish you for being a naughty girl.” You feel yourself throb, nails digging into your palms as you hold back a whimper at his words.

“O–okay…” Your breath hitches as his hand makes contact with your thigh, sliding up it until it disappears underneath your skirt. He leans closer to you, blocking anyone’s view of what he’s about to do to you.

“No knickers, love? It’s like you knew you were going to be a slut today.” His fingers make contact with your clit, rubbing it nice and slow, watching you shake and whimper softly from his movements. “Good girl, you’re being nice and quiet for me.” He leans closer, sliding his fingers up and down before he begins to slowly push them inside your sopping cunt, curling them upwards, watching you struggle to keep your mouth closed. “Keep reading your book, love. Wouldn’t want anyone to catch us.” Tangerine feels you squeeze around his fingers at his words, he grins. “You wanna be caught, love? Want to be caught being a naughty slut, huh?”

You lean your head on his shoulder, shakily opening the book, unable to focus on the words as his fingers continue to thrust and curl, your hand moves to his thigh and you grip onto it, digging your nails into him as he continues to fingerfuck you. “O–oh…”

“Shh.” His moustache tickles your ear as he whispers into it. His fingers begin to hit the spongey spot deep inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back and you to arch off the chair, biting down onto your bottom lip hard enough to cause blood. Tangerine watches as you cum, juices coating his hand before you sink back down into the seat, soft whimpers escaping you. “Good girl.” He gently removes his fingers from your drenched cunt, lifting them to his mouth, eyes connecting with yours as you watch him suck the fingers that were just inside of you.

You blink, trying to catch your breath as the man winks at you, sliding a piece of paper with his name and number on it before he stands. “Call me when you need to get off again, love.” With that, he leaves, disappearing down the train. You stare at the piece of paper, feeling yourself begin to throb again at the thought of him touching you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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bedoballoons · 1 year

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─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~They said something they didn't mean~༺}

A/n: Angsty! Hurtful things said, tons of apologies and crying! No comfort in the end.. Sorry :p

Requests/asks open!!

(Includes: Diluc, Albedo, Alhaitham, Xiao and Scaramouche)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

You could tell Diluc was annoyed, his hands clenched into tight fists and his face red with anger, his eyes had a rage behind them you'd never seen before...and it kinda scared you. You internally contemplated wether it would be better to leave him be or ask if he needed anything...but sadly...you didn't get the chance to decide.

"Are you just going to stare?" His voice held such a hurtful tone and it made you wonder if you'd been standing there longer than you thought..."I-" You tried but he shot you a look that instantly made you go quiet, "Just leave me alone. I don't need you bothering me right now, I deal with that enough already." His words struck you so harshly, it was like you'd just been slapped in the face...tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

It only took him a split second to realize what he said and instantly afterwords he started to apologize, "Oh no...I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that. You're not bothersome...I-"

𑁍༄Albedo:

Albedo was busy working away in his lab, writing down the various answers of his experiments and perfecting his craft as per usual. Him being busy though wasn't really anything new to you, usually when he found a particularly interesting answer to something he'd get engrossed in it for a long time and you'd usually have to bring him food cause he's forget to eat, and wrap a blanket around him just in case he got cold.

He always seemed to appreciate the thought in your actions...today however he seemed frustrated with them, when you brought him food he said he wasn't hungry and when you attempted to cover him up with a blanket, he shrugged it off, letting it fall onto the ground. You were just about to leave the lab, let him be since that seemed to be what he wanted...when he snapped at you. "Could you please just get out of my way, I have very important things I'm working on and you're not helping."

You went completely silent at his words...all you had tried to do was take care of him like usual...you hadn't meant to get in the way of anything. You felt your eyes watering and quickly muttered a apology, "I'm sorry...I'll get out of your way."

Albedos head shot up as you spoke, realizing not only what you had just said...but how hurtful his own words had been, guilt instantly filled him as he attempted to stop you from leaving. "Wait no...I didn't mean...you're not in my way. I was just busy and I hadn't realised what I said, I'm so sorry, please dont leave...don't go..."

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

Alhaitham was incredibly intelligent, there was zero argument about that and honestly it amazed you, most of the time. Sometimes he'd unintentionally make you feel...like you weren't smart enough and it wasn't like he had tried to on purpose...it was just the way his words had sounded. You have always tried your best to not take it personally...but on a bad day, sometimes it was inevitable.

"Alhaitham? You need anything? Can I help at all?" You asked him, his eyes concentrated on a book about the akademiyas history and his mind deep in thought, to the point you weren't even sure he had heard you, so you asked again. "Alhaithamm? Do you want anything? Is there anyway I can help youuu?" This time you got his attention, his eyes shifting to you with a look of pure annoyance.

"I heard you the first time, I just didn't answer. This isn't something you'd understand, not unless you've doubled your IQ over night...and no I don't need anything." You stepped back, feeling hurt by his words, more than you had in a long time..."I'm sorry...you didn't answer so I thought maybe you hadn't heard me..." You felt so small as you spoke...so stupid...

His eyes narrowed at the sight of your unhappiness, reconsidering what he said but not truly understanding what he had said wrong "My apologies...I've upset you again..."

𑁍༄Xiao:

You knew Xiao would always protect you, honestly it seemed even if you got a paper cut he'd attempt to shred the paper to pieces, making it so it couldn't hurt you again. Obviously, from that alone, he could be a little...over protective. Which wasn't really a bad thing untill he started to worry about hurting you himself, wether it was by his charmic debt or loosing control of his own being, the idea ate at him, to the point it was becoming problematic.

"Xiao calm down, your charmic debt has never really affected me before and I have my full faith in you...you're not going to hurt me. I know that... please you should know that too." You spoke in a soft tone, trying your best to comfort your boyfriend who continued to inch away from you... as if he would hurt you just from being near you. "I want to...I want to know that I'd never hurt you, but I can't. I'm unable to control myself and if anything ever happened to you..because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself." He was deep in despair and you wanted so badly to comfort him, so you took a step closer.

"Xiao..." You sighed, reaching your hand out to him, but he pulled away, "Don't. Maybe it would be better for you to just...go away." His words knocked the wind out of you, it was like the air had suddenly become unbreathable...he didn't mean that did he? "What..." His eyes met yours and for a split second it was like he wanted to take it back...but he couldn't. "Leave."

𑁍༄Scaramouche:

(I use the nickname Scara here ^-^)

You looked into Scaramouches eyes, your own anger not coming close to the rage he was feeling, but you were used to this, the two of you would argue, with him acting ruder than usual, but you always made up in the end. "Scara just admit you were wrong okay! Once you do, we can end our argument and get back to work!" You already felt tired of yelling, it had barely been two minutes and you wanted so desperately for it to stop.

"I wasn't wrong and I'm still not! Love isn't a real thing, it's a idea people tell themselves is real because they don't want to feel alone!" His words annoyed you, if what the two of you had wasn't love then what was it?? "But you love me! So obviously that's a bold faced lie!" Your heart was racing, what would he say next? If he said the wrong thing...would you two not be able to make up?

"I don't love you, honestly how could I when you're just a mortal and I have the power of a god!" And just like that all your fight left you...he said it...he said he didn't love you and it broke your heart..."I-" You started, but your voice cracked and despite trying to keep strong, tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

Scara watched you intently, wondering if he'd went to far...his face softened and he stepped towards you, "I didn't mean that...", but you didn't want to listen. You looked away from him, moving backwards so he was farther away from you. "Shit....I'm sorry...I love you..I promise I..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day!*⁠.⁠✧

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lottiecrabie · 5 months

Note

hiii You know who this is can i please please please have cyosa mutual masturbation i lost so hard every time but once and you know you love meeeee 😇😇😇😇

this is for you🫵you know who you are. I love you🫶

‘matty…’ you moan, half as a beg and half as a mindless need. he chuckles, opening your thighs for him, putting you on display. you’re so ready you might take him right now.

matty’s hand still dances on your thigh, working higher and higher. your breath hitches, anticipating the fateful meeting. he whispers, smirking, ‘how about you show me how you do it?’

your cheeks flame at the idea. you clench your thighs, trapping him in place, embarrassed. he doesn’t seem too bothered. he revels in prying them open again, grazing the ready skin until you’re squirming.

‘why would i when you’re right here?’ as if to convince him, you reach for his leftover hand, dragging it to a pert breast. he chuckles. his finger rolls the nipple and you sigh, still holding onto his wrist.

‘i want to see,’ he says. ‘i want to learn.’ you groan, half from pleasure and half from shyness. you hide in your shoulder, arching your back into his hand in contradiction. again, a laugh falls from him. ‘how about i show you too?’

your eyes snap to him, suddenly interested. he kneels up, towering over your parting frame. his hand makes quick work of his belt— quicker than your hungry, shaking ones could have done. he draws his cock out without any hesitation, holding it at the base. your breath dies in your throat. you freeze under him.

‘i’m already hard,’ matty says. ‘don’t even have to think about you cause you’re already laying there like a fucking daydream.’

you grin, spreading your legs further, giving him a show. a tortured groan rasps out his throat. ‘fuck, love, you’re gorgeous.’ he strokes himself once, swiping his thumb over the tip. you lick your lips, though you do not feel the need to reach out and do it yourself. you want to relish in the spectacle.

you get him, now. he knows this. says, ‘show me.’

you don’t feel as shy. your hand grabs his own, puppeteering him so he pinches and rolls your peaked nipples just right. a broken moan comes out of you. in turn, he strokes faster.

‘i don’t like the before,’ you choke out. ‘i’d rather just get to it.’ it’s all the warning you give him before you plunge your hand between your folds, circling your clit.

‘shit,’ matty cries. ‘you’re not real.’ you hum, pinching the skin of his wrist mischievously, reveling in his little yelp. ‘what do you think about?’

you shrug, non-committed. ‘i like my mind blank.’ matty tsks and shakes his head. you almost want to laugh, but your fingers hit a sinful spot and you’re too busy whining out.

‘you’re doing it wrong,’ he breathes. his hand is still hard at work on himself. he needs to frown in concentration to get his thought out. ‘the before, the imagination— that’s what it’s all about. you won’t get a mind-blowing orgasm if you don’t involve your mind.’

‘do it, then,’ you whimper. ‘mindblow me.’

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. ‘i didn’t expect you to be lazy.’ the challenge works and you set your eyes, competitiveness bubbling in your chest. vengefully, you dip two fingers inside, watching as he slows his rhythm in quiet wonder.

you thrust in and out, angling your fingers until your legs twitch mindlessly. your nails dig into his skin, and it’s not even to send any kind of message. he’s wrong about the mind. you masturbate to get you off— off that tyrannical ride your head leads ruthlessly. this, the hot euphoria beating in your veins, the quiet moans, the shivering limbs, is what it’s about.

‘i’ll tell you, then,’ matty says. he seems close, pumping his cock fast and certain. his chest rises and falls, the tattooed planes of his stomach in perfect display. you want to spread a hand over it, want to descend down and replace his hand, want to— you thumb your clit and stop wanting.

‘i think about you, all pretty and hot and needy. never this perfect, though. god, you’re really not real— like a fucking frosted cupcake, all sweet for me.’ the words fizzle up your chest. pleasure strikes through you, doubly so, and you cry his name in sheer shock.

matty continues, ‘i think about you in the library, bending you over until i erase that little worried frown you have. make you suck my fingers so you keep quiet still. don’t want to get banned— still need you to ride my cock on those big chairs after all.’

‘oh, god,’ you whine. you rub your clit furiously, eyes rolling back, seemingly astral projected to the library. your lips part in quiet worship. ‘more,’ you beg him.

matty pinches your nipple, forcing you to look at him. ‘your turn.’

you pant, trying to use your brain when your fingers are deep and quick inside of you, when he’s hanging off with that swoopy hair over his forehead and those dark, hungry eyes. you’re drunk on the mere sight of him, and you start fearing how he’ll affect you when he’s the one thrusting inside you.

‘i—‘ your legs kick, helpless. ‘sometimes when we watched movies, i’d think about you eating me out on the couch.’

matty groans, scrunching his eyes like he’s imagining it. ‘yeah? what’d i do?’

‘just— you’d kneel in front of me, and you’d tell me to pay attention, and then you’d do it. devour me like you were starved. shush me when i got too loud, remind me to watch my smart, pretentious film.’

another broken cry slips out of him. he falls over you, though still holding himself up with an arm. your now free hand spread over his ribs, back, anything your greediness can find. both your fingers work in tandem between your bodies, a quiet union you’ve just now noticed. you roll your head, hit his wrist. ‘matty…’

‘i thought about you asking me to fuck you before,’ matty admits offhandedly, lost in his pleasure. your fingers press into his working shoulder, mean. ‘fuck, i almost believed i was imagining when you really did ask me. figured i was going crazy.’

you twist your head, kissing his wrist over and over, tiny presses of love you don’t dare say. your tongue sticks out and licks it all up before it stays and means something. ‘again,’ you moan, feeling yourself get closer. your hips rise for your strained digits. your body hums in warning.

‘i want to come on your stomach. want to mark your skin— god, need it. need to see you all pretty with my cum, make you all messy. show you’re mine.’

‘matty,’ you scream, pumping your fingers just right.

’need to see you come, too. break apart so you’re not so perfect. my pristine, pretty girl, drooling for me, screaming my name, working those little fingers…’

‘fuck—‘

‘you’re doing so well for me,’ he promises. his hand has lost any sense of regular rhythm, pumping with desperate abandon instead. ‘just like i though,’ he says, full of wonder. he seems so gone you’d figure he’s all in his head, but matty stares at you like he could lick up the frost off the cupcake. ‘of course you’d listen. of course you’d do just i say.’

‘fuck, i need—‘ it’s on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t get to say, a shattering orgasm taking you instead.

you open your jaw and dig your teeth in matty’s wrist, biting down the yells as waves of pure ecstasy shake through you. your head, never quite unattached before, blanks with the force of pleasure. you say his name, you think. or maybe not. in the end, you don’t think at all, and it is glorious.

matty’s close after you, screaming out your name shamelessly. the ropes of white cum hit your stomach and he draws out his last trembles before he falls atop you with a sigh.

your head’s all fuzzy as you lay there. ‘oh,’ you finally say once you regain speech. you trace a finger over his back, staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. oh, this is what it’s supposed to be.

‘yeah,’ matty murmurs in your hair. because he understands, of course he does. your lungs feel full and heavy.

he finally rises and you catch a glance to the mess between your two bodies. the cum is painted over both of your stomach. though matty doesn’t even bother wiping it off before he smirks, kissing down your sternum. his eyes flash up at you, full of mischief. ‘so you want me to eat you out, huh?’

#why is there a cyosa renaissance lowkey #ask #blurb #matty #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #smut #choose your own smut adventure #crablurb

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justmymindandstuff · 10 months

Text

Promise - Jon Snow x Y/N (Reader)

Summary: You are a Lady from House Tully and Catelyn Starks ward. But you love her husband bastard son Jon and he loves you. Your relationship is a secret, but you don't care. But then Jon makes the decision to go to the Wall.

Warnings: implied first time, fluff, forbidden love

Words: 2.876

Gif not mine

English is not my frist language, so forgive me for my mistakes; not proof read.

You sit in the warm room and work on a handcraft. Sansa sits next to you and you both listen to the Septa's words. She explains something about housekeeping and numbers to you and Sansa, but you get bored and Sansa also prefers to concentrate on her stitches. Lady lies at your feet, her eyes are closed and she makes a quiet hum every now and then. Arya, fortunately for her, had hidden before the lesson with the Septa began. She's probably wandering around Winterfell or watching her brothers training with their swords. You are jealous of her.

"Septa, can you please tell us something about the Prince?" asks Sansa. Since Lord and Lady Stark shared with you that the royal party are one their way to visit Winterfell Sansa can only think about the golden Prince Joffrey.

"No, you have more important topics to learn my dear child." the Septa answers.

There's a knock on the door and Jon pokes his head in. Sansa rolls her eyes at the sight of her „Bastard-Brother“.

“Excuse me, Lady Stark sent me to get Lady Y/N.” You put your work aside and stand up.

"We will make up for the lesson." says the Septa.

"Of course." You say, but know you won't mind hearing such boring facts again. "Shall we go for a walk with Lady later?" Sansa asks. The Direwolf opens her eyes when she hears her name, but doesn´t move.

"Yes, I'll come straight to you after I've been to your mother." you answer. You are Catelyn Stark's ward, the daughter of a distant cousin of the Tullys. After your mother died giving birth to your brother and your father was called to Kingslanding by King Robert, Catelyn and her family let you in their house and raise you like you are one of them.

Jon closes the door behind you and smiles at you. You both walk through the corridors.

"Do you know what Catelyn wants?"

"Nothing. It was a lie. Do you really thought Catelyn will send me to get you?"

You laugh. "You can´t do things like that." you say but you smile. "It´s dangerous."

"Is it?" he asks, grabs your hips and press you gently against the next wall.

"Jon no." you giggle but then you grab his hand and kiss him, his grip at your hip tightens. Suddenly you hear steps, you and Jon jump apart and he takes two steps back.

"Because of you we will get caught." You say, Jon holds his arm to you, and you rake under it.

"You kissed me My Lady."

"I am sorry my Lord." Jons gaze is a bit sad now and he opens his mouth but you already know what he wants to say.

"I´m not a Lord.” You are faster than him and he smiles. “I know but I don´t care."

"Do you want to go for a ride?" he changes the topic.

"Of course."

"Good, meet me at the gates." Jon presses a light kiss at your lips and walks down the floor. You take a deep breath to calm down your heartbeat. Everytime you see him you have the feeling that your heart jumps out of your chest and in your stomach fly butterflies. You are madly in love with this man and you have the luck that he loves you too. You know it´s dangerous. He is a bastard and you are a Lady. Your Love is forbidden but you don´t care.

You walk through Winterfell, your home, to the gates. Ghost comes to you and nudges his snout into your hand. Behind the gates waits Jon with two horses. You take the reins from him and get on the horse. Jon also gets on his horse and together you ride off into the forest. It´s a bit cold, but you don´t care. You just enjoy the time you spend with Jon.

Jon stops in a clearing. "Let's take a break." You look at him a little confused, you two usually ride for hours through the forests around Winterfell. And it's usually you who ends up barely getting off the horse because your legs are stiff and hurt. Jon gets of his horse and comes to you to help you, but you don´t need his help. You jump from the horseback and land bevor your Lover.

"Not really Ladylike."

"Shut up Snow." you laugh, and he takes your hand in his.

"Usually, your word is my command." he kisses your hand. "But today I have to talk to you."

You look at him worried. "Something happened?" you ask. Jon sighs, taking your hand in one hand and the reins in the other. Then he starts walking, Ghost runs next to you. You're still waiting for an answer. "I spoke to father today. After the king came to visit, he allowed me to go to the wall."

You stop, forcing Jon to stop too.

"What?"

"It has always been my dream to go to the wall."

"You want to put on the black? You want to leave me?" you can´t believe what you´re hearing.

"No! No Y/N of course I don't want to leave you. But father says the king wants him as his hand. There is no other reason why he should travel north otherwise. And then I can't stay here."

"Robb wouldn't send you away."

"Of course not. But you know what Catelyn thinks of me, when father is gone it will only get worse and besides, what else do I have other than the wall?"

Tears come to your eyes. "You have me. But that doesn't seem to be that important to you." you pull your hand away.

"No! Y/N please. Listen to me okay. Please let me explain."

"What do you want to explain? Why you are leaving me? I don´t want to hear it." You say angrily, you don't want him to leave you. "You said you loved me!"

"I love you."

"You don't leave the person you love."

Now tears come to Jon's eyes too. "What choice do I have?"

"You can stay here with me."

"And then? Continue to hide? Continue to meet in secret? Secret kisses and always being afraid of being caught? In the worst-case Catelyn catches us and she will demand my head."

"No she won't! I'll explain to her that we love each other."

"You know her, she will not listen to you."

"Is that what you care about? Is it fear? Do you not want to see me anymore? But please, don´t leave our home."

"I love you! I can't even spend a day away from you without it tearing me up inside." He pulls you towards him and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is full of passion and love and you cling to him like you'll never see him again. You break apart breathless. Jon rests his forehead against yours and looks deep into your eyes.

“Please believe me that I love you and that I don't want to leave you. But I'm a bastard Y/N, there's hardly a place for me in this world. But I will have a place and a task at the Wall."

"I believe you. But I don't understand why you want to leave. You have a place in Winterfell. Your place is at my side. Isn't that enough for you? Am I not enough for you?"

"Of course." Tears run down your cheeks. Jon carefully wipes them away with his thumbs. “But we both know, someday you will leave Winterfell to marry some old Lord. And then I have nothing left. The Wall is my only way out, even if I have to leave you for it. It is better like this, for both of us.“ It feels like he's leaving you already “Please Y/N please don’t be mad at me and try to understand why I have to leave.”

"I'll try it."

"Let's ride back. You have a meeting with Sansa."

"Now I don't feel like walking anymore."

"I'm sorry. But I just wanted to explain my decision to you."

You nod and you head back to Winterfell. You stay silent the whole way back, you have a lot to think about. Shortly before you arrive, you part ways and you are the first to ride into the courtyard of Winterfell. Jon will follow you after a while.

Sansa comes towards you. "There you are." she calls. "We wanted to go for a walk."

"I'm not feeling so well, Sansa." you say, getting off the horse and walking past her. Sansa looks at you a little confused, but she doesn't say anything else.

Your thoughts revolve around Jon and his decision to go to the Wall.

You try to understand why he wants to leave. And even if you don't really want to admit it to yourself, you can understand his reasons.

You walk towards your room when Arya approaches you.

"Hello Y/N." Arya says happily when she sees you.

"Hello little wolf." You say, forcing a smile on your lips for her. "You weren't at the class with the Speta this morning."

"Yes, I managed to escape." laughs Arya.

"You shouldn't neglect your classes."

"I know."

"I won't tell your mother under one condition."

"What do you want?"

"Come with me and read something to me. You read so well, please Arya."

She rolls her eyes. She hates these things, actually she hates everything that has nothing to do with swords and bows. "Fine." she then agrees. The two of you make your way to your room, you take the book you are currently reading and give it to Arya. It's a silly fairy tale about love, but when Arya starts reading you close your eyes and imagine it's your story. Your love story with Jon.

And then the day comes. The worst day of your life! Today the royal Party will leave Winterfell and with them Lord Stark, Sansa, Arya and Jon. Originally you should travel with Lord Stark and his daughters to Kings Landing, but after Bran fell from a tower, you stay behind with Catelyn and Robb.

You are awake long before the sun will rise, but you couldn´t stay in bed. You get dressed and leave your room. You walk through the corridors up to Jons room. You are not often here, the danger of being caught is far too great, but today nothing matters anymore. You knock at his door, it takes a moment and then he opens the door. He stands in front of you and looks at you in surprise.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

You try to ignore his bare chest and step inside his room.

“I couldn´t sleep and I wanted to say goodbye to you. Before we doesn´t have time for us anymore.” Tears well up in your eyes. You had prayed to the gods that this day will never come, but now there is nothing you can do anymore than watch the love of your life leave.

Jon smiles at you. “I am glade, that you are here, but what if someone sees you?”

“I don´t care.”

“You should.”

“No. Everything I care about is that we only have hours left together.” You reach up to him and kiss his lips.

Jon kisses you back for a second, but than he pulls away. “Y/N.” he sighs and looks at you with sad eyes.

“No. I don´t want to be sad now. Please. We only have a few hours left together. I don´t want to waste them.”

Jon strokes your cheek and smiles. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. Forever.”

Jon kisses you again, you wrap your arms around his neck. Jon wraps his arms around your body and pulls you closer to him. The kiss is full of love and affection. You know he loves you and he know you love him. Even if your love is forbidden, even if everything speaks against your love. Nobody can take this away form you. Not a King, not a Lord or the Wall.

Your hands run over his bare chest.

His lips move to your neck, and you have to suppress a moan. His touch sets a fire inside you. You know this feeling, Jon has triggered this feeling in you again and again.

His hands roam over your back and then in front and over your arms. Jon pulls away from you, breathing heavily. His eyes sparkle and his lips meet yours again. Just for a second and then he pulls away.

"You have to go."

"Why."

"If you stay any longer, I can't promise anything anymore."

"I don't want you to promise me anything." you kiss him again, this time demanding and passionate. Your hands bury themselves in his hair and Jon groans.

"We can´t." He whispers against your lips and then kisses you again. His hands roam over your body and you get goosebumps all over your body.

"I know what you're afraid of, Jon. But don't worry."

Jon looks at you for a moment. You can see in his face that he is thinking.

And then he kisses you passionately. His hands are all over your body. You snuggle up against him and moan under his touch. "Are you sure?" he asks breathless.

"Yes. I've never been so sure."

You turn around, Jon kisses your neck as he undoes the laces of your dress. It falls to the floor and you shiver.

You've never experienced anything like what you had with Jon that morning. It was loving, tender and beautiful.

You lie together on his bed. The sun rises and you hear the first servants walking across the hallways. Jon’s hand gently strokes your bare shoulder.

"We have to get up." you say.

"I don't want this moment to be over."

"I don't want it either." You turn to him and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you Jon.” It's just a whisper in the room, but to you it means everything. No one can take your time with Jon away from you, even if he leaves you today.

“Y/N.” Jon's voice is suddenly serious. "I will travel to the Wall today and I will put on the black. But I want to promise you something. I promise you that we will see each other again." He kisses your forehead and now you can't hold back the tears. "Don't cry my lady."

"I'm trying My." you interrupt yourself. “My Jon.”

You stand next to Catelyn in the courtyard to say goodbye to the king and his entourage. And to say goodbye to Lord Stark, Sansa, Arya and Jon. You hardly dare to look Jon in the eyes. You try to hold back the tears, but you can't quite manage it. A few tears roll down your cheeks, but you can blame it on the fact that you're going to miss Sansa and Arya so much.

The royal party starts moving and Jon also turns his horse towards the gate. But before he leaves Winterfell he turns around again, and your eyes meet. You look into his eyes one last time. He nods slightly at you and smiles. It's a sad smile, but you know what it means. I love you and this farewell isn´t forever. You will see each other again.

The gates close and you stand alone in the courtyard, and for the first time since you have been in Winterfell, you are actually cold. For the first time in your live you feel lonely. Caytlin says something to you, but you don´t hear what she said. You turn around and run into your room. You lock the door behind you and fall weakly onto your bed. Tears immediately stream down your cheeks, and you feel like your heart is tearing apart in your chest. He is gone. He is really gone.

The cold wind blows around your ears and you pull the fur collar of your cloak further up. You take a deep breath and ride towards the gate of Castle Black. You stop just before the gate and get off your horse. Your steps slowly carry you forward.

“Who are you?” a strange voice came from behind the gate.

“Lady Y/N, from Winterfell. I want to see Jon Snow.” Your voice trembles, but you´re almost there. You´re almost with him.

It takes a short moment and then the gate open and you can step into the courtyard of Castle Black. A lot of strange man look at you. You look around nervously. Your hair is messy, and your dress is covered in dirt and the hem is soaked in blood. Robbs blood.

“Y/N.” his voice flows through you, you turn around and looks at him. Jon comes down the stairs and runs across the yard to you. Before he even reaches you, tears are running down your cheeks. Finally, he wraps you in his arms again. You take a deep breath. His scent, so familiar and yet so strange, envelops you. For the first time since you left the Twins you feel safe.

“Please never leave me again.” You whisper in his ear.

“Never. I promise.”

#Jon Snow #jon snow x reader #Jon Snow x Y/N #game of thrones #stark family #jon snow fanfiction #house stark #Catelyn Stark #catelyn tully #sansa stark #arya stark #robb stark #winterfell #asoiaf #asoif/got #asoif fanfic #the wall

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missredherring · 8 months

Text

Warming Up

Joel Miller x Fat!Female Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 1.8k

Contents: pwp. established relationship. temperature play. Joel has lots of body hair. lube. handjob. lots of playing with balls. cumplay. fondling everything between his legs, asshole to dick tip. dirty talk.

Summary: You come in from shoveling snow and menace an innocently sleeping Joel with your cold body.

A/N: An anon mentioned they'd like an actual fic out of the thot this came from, so I promised that once I got a proper snow day I'd give it a shot. We got 4" and this is how it turned out.

Thanks to @covetyou for letting me throw ball quotes at her. She caught them in one hand. Amazing skills.

Not beta'd. Any mistakes are my own.

Joel is still asleep when you come back in from shoveling snow. It’s still coming down, but you think it’s going to stop soon considering the size of the flakes and how slowly they’re falling.

His snoring quiets as you strip out of your damp clothes and slip into bed. It only takes the light brush of your hand on his shoulder to make him jump.

“Christ. How’d you get so cold going to the bathroom?” His voice is rough with sleep and slurred a little as his brain tries to catch up.

The impish impulse wins out and you scoot closer to drape yourself over him as much as you can with him sprawling out on his stomach. He yelps and makes to move away, but he’s already at the edge of the mattress.

“I went out to do some shoveling.”

“Why didn’t you get me up? I would’ve helped.”

He would’ve insisted doing all of it himself and then complained when he came back in, half frozen over and extra grumpy.

“I know, but you were so pretty sleeping in a puddle of your own drool.” You laugh when he wipes at his face and finds nothing.

You tug on his shoulder, silently asking him to roll onto his side so you can have better access to him. He goes with a grunt and spits out another curse when you fit yourself against him: your breasts smushing against his back, your belly filling in the curve above his flat butt, your thick thighs pressing into the back of his, and your feet rubbing up and down his calves.

He puts out so much body heat that he only wear boxers to bed even in the dead of winter, but your chilled body is sapping all of that extra heat and making him shiver; he probably regrets kicking off all the covers now. You take a moment to readjust your breasts and belly into a more comfortable position and find a place for the arm you’re laying on. There’s not a lot of good options for what you have in mind so you just follow the line of his own arm, your hand only making it halfway down his forearm. His head isn’t that heavy, since it’s laying across both of your arms. He turns it just a bit to kiss your bicep and you kiss his own in answer. Your free hand wanders, rubbing up and down his arm and snaking around to his chest.

Joel is covered in hair, everywhere you’re touching you can feel it tickling you. You rub your hand over his chest, feeling it on your palm and you wonder if it helps keep the heat in. Tipping a finger downward, you use your nail to circle one flat nipple and then the other. Back and forth, from one side of his chest to the other, you continue until they’re drawn up and hard, sticking out well past the hair around them. You palm one, enjoying the feeling of it poking into your hand and squeeze his tit. He trembles just a little.

“You're shaking. Is it the cold or my hand on your skin?”

“Your hand is still cold.” He mutters, but there’s no bite to his bark. Not with the way he’s leaning into you, his body pushing forward into your hand while trying to keep the other points of contact.

You bury your face in his neck for a moment, inhaling his smell so concentrated from sleep. Tempted, you press lips and teeth and tongue anywhere you can reach. A nip at his jaw makes him moan, and you wonder if he does it to you so often because he likes the way it feels and he wants to share that with you.

He sinks into the mattress, melting into your touch as you follow the trail of hair down his torso to rest on his soft stomach. You nudge the waistband of his boxers down just enough to expose his belly button and stroke his skin and the whorls of hair there. A fingertip tracing the rim is enough to send another shiver through him.

“‘Know what would be the perfect thing to warm my hand? A big load of your hot cum. Will you give it to me, Joel? Hmm? It always feels warm inside of me.”

When he nods, his head moving over your arms, you press your hand firmly into the squishy middle of him.

“I need your words. Tell me if you want me to jerk you off or not.”

“Yes! Yes please, baby.”

“Alright then.”

He’s lifting his hips and with your help his boxers are off and tossed across the room in no time. You grip his hip to stop him from rolling onto his back and instead pat that strong thigh, enjoying the way the strike make the meat there jiggle.

“If you open your legs and prop this one back on me,” You hum in satisfaction when he follows your directions, his leg resting on yours tucked in behind him.

Cuddling with him like this has done a good job at warming you up, but your hand must still be chilled, because when you caress the strip of skin between his groin and hip goosebumps break out across his thigh. It’s all fun and games to put ice cube hands on him, but you want to be considerate, going into this sensitive area.

“Is my hand still too cold?”

“Nah. I like it. It’s warmed up–.” Joel cuts off with a gasp when you shove your hand between his legs.

The angle is a little awkward, but you make it work. If his body is like a furnace, this here is the pilot light. It feels like a brand, his cock and balls burning where they touch you. You reach past them in their nest of pubic hair and stroke where the curve of his ass cheeks starts and the line between them. Spreading them, you tease his asshole to make him gasp. Moving back to run a finger across his perineum and cup his balls, moving them this way and that in a gentle massage. They’re so warm and heavy, you could hold them forever, your preferred handwarmers. If your other hand was free and you were in a different position, you wouldn’t have to give them up, but you like being close to him like this.

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you watch as much of his face as you can see to gauge his reactions. The apple of his cheek rising and falling as his jaw drops. The way he pulls his lip between his teeth and then lets it go before he bites down too hard. The way his crow’s feet scrunch up when he closes his eyes. He’s a beautiful man, Joel Miller.

The muscles of his furred forearm bunch under your hand as he reaches back for you. His grip is tight as he presses his forehead against your entwined fingers in a sweet gesture. Your eyes close on their own and you lay there together, feeling his strong heartbeat thudding through his chest.

“Are you gonna fuck me or just hold my balls the whole time?”

“I could hold your balls all day, baby. Don’t tempt me.” And isn’t that an idea to play around with? Maybe you could try it out the next time you’re in the mood for edging.

Reluctantly, you give his sack a fondle of farewell and move onto his cock. It’s already hardening, hot and throbbing in your hand. You map it, seeing how much of it you can touch with just the one hand and in how many different ways. Measuring it’s length in fingertips, Joel doesn’t bother smothering a moan when you palm the head and squeeze down on the spongy tip just a little.

“Can you get the lube for me?” You ask him and he nods.

He leans over and fishes around in the nightstand drawer, bringing out a half empty bottle of lube. A quick flick of his thumb opens it and he holds it for you, squeezing a good amount into your hand.

You don’t waste any time getting his cock back in your hand, gliding the lube up and down and covering as much of it as you can. You ask for more before you’re satisfied with the way your hand slides over it and start stroking him to a full erection.

Joel is panting and letting out needy little noises that delight you. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his free hand. It keeps moving: propping him up on the bed and grabbing at sheets until it whips back on a harder downstroke from you and finds the line of your apron belly. He sinks his fingers there, a little lower than your hip between thigh and belly, and kneads, kneads, kneads. He’s getting worked up and and you can’t help the grin that spreads on your face when he starts to babble.

“Just like that. Christ, when you squeeze the tip like that I can’t– “

He rocks his hips and you have to work with his movements to keep the rhythm going. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen clenching when your forearm rubs against it and you know he’s close. You press up on him as much as you can and his grip on your belly tightens to keep you there.

“Are you gonna come for me? All that hot cum would be the perfect thing to finish warming me up.”

Everything speeds up and you only get a half garbled warning before he’s coming. With a quick flick of your wrist you cover the pulsing red head of his cock and do your best to catch all of his cum that spurts out, even as it oozes between your fingers and down your wrist. It’s just as hot as you said, the warmth transferring to your skin before quickly cooling.

“Ah-A few more strokes, baby, please.” He tells you and you oblige, giving them to him and making even more of a mess between his legs, before going back down to cup his balls again, just holding him there as he catches his breath.

He exhales heavily and leans all of his weight back onto you. His hand wiggles down under your belly and finds the hot slick mess of your own making. It’s escaped your labia to spread over your mound and inner thighs.

Nudging you over with his shoulder, Joel rolls you both, laying you out on your back and twisting around until he hovers over you. He kisses you then, your first kiss of the day, lapping into your mouth with languid thrusts of his tongue until it’s your turn to moan.

“Your extremities seem to be all warmed up, but I gotta make sure you’re hot all the way through. Can’t have you catching a chill, can we?”

#joel miller x fat female reader #joel miller x fat reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #x reader #Joel Miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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barbika1508 · 6 months

Text

A dead man, a criminal. Prisoner. Murderer.

Word Count: 14,1k

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F! Reader

Genre: Action, Romance, Smut

Summary: Your typical-ish ‘breaking Sebastian out of Azkaban’ fic with a bit of angst sprinkled in, but also porn with some plot to put a cheery on top.

Authors Note: Use of MC. I’m sure there are mistake but oh well, otherwise please enjoy my twist on a classic Sebastian Sallow fic. I say classic as it feels like one to me.

Steady breaths. Steady breaths. Steady. Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out.

‘’It's rather odd.’’ a pause follows ‘’They usually send tougher blokes for these things. No offence.’’

I don't bother turning to the guard and his comment, feeling his eyes run up and down my body, the extra layers I've put on doing their job making me look more robust. Even with the Polyjuice potion I’ve drank, resembling a man of a smaller stature with added weight to look as non-threatening as I can, having chosen a muggle I’ve passed two months ago selling newspapers in London.

''None taken.’’ I offer a fake smile snorting, keeping up the acting letting my eyes shift around, the lack of my wand only slightly concerning the guard the only one armed between the two of us ‘’Happens a lot.’’ I grumble coughing as the muggle is a smoker it reflecting in my breathing as it’s becoming heavier the more we walk. My body is aching for rest.

‘’I can imagine.’’ he shrugs, not seeing the glare I send him, being offended in the nameless muggle’s name instead. I flinch as someone suddenly screams at the top of their lungs, the voice carrying around the hall, the cell doors after all wooden with small windows carved in them, bared by metal bars not leaving them open.

The shout is coming from a criminal and yet they are still made of flesh and blood like I am. It sends a nasty chill to run down my spine. It's going to follow me I already know it.

Incredulous as I was before - silently of course - I observe the guard who is completely unphased. He unlocks metal barred doors with a regular key, not using any magic letting us pass into the third section of the prison. The further in we are making it into Azkaban the worse the conditions are. Shouts, screams of pain, manic laughter are the few sounds that have been accompanying me since setting foot on this gods forsaken island.

Taking the moment as the auror wrestles with a new key, I look around the surprisingly lit corridor. With torches on the walls providing light, we’ve reached a section where there’s lack of natural lighting. So, following along the spaciousness my gaze takes me upwards.

Something I was warned against. Of course, curiosity killed the cat after all.

I sallow uneasy at the sight of what seem hundreds if not thousands of dementors swirl near the ceilings, their attention set onto us. Even with good distance between them and us, their mere presence is shattering. Ugly creatures. I feel my own will beginning to falter, bad memories itching to surface to the front of my mind. It’s hard to resist and has me putting in great effort and a deal of concentration to keep my thoughts blank.

‘’They must be sensing you.’’ the guard comments, his voice sounding unnatural in the once more quiet space. Glancing at him with a raised eyebrow he nods stopping to stand next to me ‘’You are faring a lot better than most blokes that come through. I’ll give ya that.’’

‘’In what sense?’’ I manage out following him, his words leaving me uneasy. But not rattled.

‘’Ahh even the biggest of the meatheads that do their bosses biding retrieving poor saps…’’ he glances back at me to which I nod furrowing my brows ‘’...tend to lose it for a few moments on different sections. Fear is a powerful thing.’’

Narrowing my eyes his words hold something deep to them. I’m getting his hint. Other than that, the man besides looking rather bored at times is quite unreadable I’m certain this place leaving effect on him as well. Keeping my observances to myself I trail along as I have been from the beginning, trying my best to ignore this body’s strain which I am putting it through.

‘’It can make you do bizarre things.’’ I say under my breath playing the character I envisioned for the man I am portraying.

The guard hums taking a turn to the right hands back on another keychain containing a few bizarre, shaped keys. Unique to the cells.

‘’It is your lucky day number 18031.’’ he speaks up unlocking the door ‘’Or unlucky given your future is still rather grim. From what I can deduct.’’ he looks back at me giving me a once over once more, along with an unnecessarily creepy and cruel smirk that I have to force out too to fool this lunatic.

The guard per instruction from before makes his way into the cell chatting happily with the prisoner leaving me alone outside. The warmth from the many torches is non-existent, a dangerous type of chill that rattles my bones begins to settle. Once more glancing up the dementors are itching closer in what I can describe is interest.

Cocking my head, I try not to focus on them too closely, clearing my mind of distractions, trying to stop jittering or the need to clack my teeth together. I’m already feeling like life is pointless, the weight of the world set on my shoulders once more. But that is the extent of it, the thrumming in my blood keeping me collected.

The lullaby I call it of my ancient magic is a soothing whisper in my ears.

‘’Ah there we go.’’ comes the guards voice pushing out the man not roughly but enough to get him moving. It takes everything in me from not reaching out watching as the bearded youngster catches himself from falling, his hands chained.

‘’Are the chains necessary?’’ I ask frowning, looking at the guard as he smiles locking the door.

‘’Moreso for you than us Mr. Blane.’’ his reply is of amusement ‘’He is a criminal, but I’m sure you’ve heard that from your boss already.’’

‘’A wandless one.’’ I raise an eyebrow checking the young man over, seeing his hunched form. He’s hiding his face behind long brown hair, the stripped ‘uniform’ he’s forced to wear too big on his form, full of tears. Barefoot he looks like he hasn’t bathed in forever.

‘’You’ve not seen a man brought to their knees by despair yet, have ya?’’ the guard chats as if we’re talking about the weather leaving the prison doors open turning towards the same way where we came from. I subconsciously fall in step with the prisoner giving the prisoner a few seconds of time, watching, and waiting for him to take the first step which he does.

‘’I have.’’ I admit the last 10 years not exactly easy.

‘’Different kind of despair then.’’ the guard hums beginning to unlock the doors ‘’Not to give any ideas but think of basic instincts Mr. Blane. Primal.’’ again the creepy smile is back, the guard’s eyes portraying cruelty he I’m sure has gotten scarily good at hiding. His change in mood is due to something he saw in me, I’m sure. A mannerism I did or an answer that made him switch from apparent boredom to genuine emotions. Which isn't reassuring.

I return the grin trying my hardest not to gag, the emotions swirling in my belly strong.

‘’Hmmm. Thank you for the lesson. I’ll keep that in mind for future encounters.’’

If I was in my own skin, I’d be jumping out of it. The cruelty of the situation the darkness, this prison the capital of corruption and soullessness, insanity sounding blissful even.

Even if the people here are the worst of the worst of wizard kind it’s all too inhumane. As we begin trekking forward with the guard whistling a song, I follow behind the two. The prisoner not having uttered a word, his whole-body showing defeat as he drags his legs, shoulders that are wide and filled slouched. Taller than me for a whole head.

Satisfaction brought the cat back.

The thought crosses my mind my gaze taking me upwards again, to the new dementors who are hovering above us as we make way. Unsettling. Anyone would be unsettled with dark creatures doing so.

I’m no different.

Curiosity after all is not always worth it. Satisfaction even less. So, I redirect the impulsive thought of releasing some magic out to the corner of my mind, the dementors still presenting mystery to this day. In that regards we are similar. Because even though they present fear that has spread to every witch and wizard, here I stand walking beneath them still confident and reassured even wandless they wouldn’t harm me unlike my wizard kin.

My magic is telling me much.

Reaching the last doors takes us a while, our trek unhurried but briefed before we entered the first corridor. I have a hate/love relationship with patience. And the closer we are to the exit the carriage with which I’ve arrived in my sight the more my magic buzzes along with my excitement which I’m desperately trying to keep at bay.

The guard that accompanied me goes to talk to his buddy that’s keeping post at the entrance, the man looking even more uninterested sending us a brief glance only once as he signs scrolls, transfiguring a stone table from a rock nearby.

Glancing at the prisoner he’s still motionless standing next to me like a statue. His hair has grown long, past his shoulders, beard also overgrown. His skin like I mentioned is covered in dirt and grime some clear spots revealing faded freckles. Hmm.

‘’Alright Mr. Blane.’’ the guard cheers still in a jolly mood trotting over to me, presenting the scroll wide and open ‘’The paperwork and the prisoner as promised are all delivered in one piece.’’ and back comes the unsettling grin. The man is too proud of himself and his wrong doings.

‘’Ah that’s a good man.’’ I cough squinting as I read the death certificate bringing my left hand from the pocket of my coat bringing out the handkerchief, I’ve been holding to wipe my mouth as I read the entirety of the page, making sure of the details ‘’Splendid.’’ I continue letting out another cough a hiccup following. Oh no.

‘’Well at the end of the day, we’ve gotten quite the stroll out hey. Besides getting jobs done.’’ I cheer still wiping my mouth that’s beginning to tingle as are my fingers, the potion starting to waver.

‘’A lovely one at that admittedly. I’ve pegged you wrongly at first. You’re quite the brave man Mr. Blake.’’

I laugh with him fishing out a small bag of coins handing them over to him, his eyes practically sparkling as well as the bored guards as he comes over giving the prisoner a disgusted look but makes sure to stand away from him ‘’The amount is as promised lads. And this…’’ I reach for the trouser pocket and bring out 6 more coins splitting them between the two ‘’For your troubles and help.’’ I smile gratefully ready to puke my guts out, my skin literally crawling, my left leg beginning to itch unbelievably.

‘’Ahhhh Mr. Blane. How generoussss.’’ the overly joyed guard cheers, the bored one looking impressed ‘’The pleasure was all ours.’’

‘’Indeed.’’ the bored guard adds handing over my wand which was also made to look different, the redness of the wood of my wand masked into black wood along with the handle being switched into a plain one.

‘’Gentlemen.’’ I nod in acknowledgement ‘’Business calls. Have yourself a pleasant day onwards.’’ I greet and begin to walk ignoring the prisoner as the guard eagerly steps to him. I hear them both follow to the carriage, the Thestral’s patiently waiting.

Not entirely used to the big belly of this body I stumble and practically climb into the carriage. Beginning to sweat and not only from fatigue I start to wipe my forehead, smiling as the “nicer” guard ushers the prisoner into the carriage with me, making him sit opposite as I’ve sat with my back to the Thestral’s.

‘’Until next time Mr. Blane.’’ the guard greets looking up as I cover my mouth the trembles happening all over my body. I play it off with a nod and another cough, the guard getting the message and closing the doors. Not wasting any time, I wave my wand magic the Thestral’s neighing in reply pulling us forth, the movement rough having me grip onto the seat as we practically launch into the air.

Waving my wand, the tinny curtains of the doors close shut as I try to catch my breath sitting back feeling very uncomfortable in this body, the grumbling getting louder and obnoxious, brown eyes peeking at me.

My breath gets caught at the sight of them. And my smile is instantaneous.

‘’Sorry about this…’’ the change in my voice is noticeable getting higher pitched, but lowering quickly as if one was changing the frequency on the radio ‘’...this will probably be uncomfortable for the both of us.’’

And with that, I attempt at shrugging off the oversized coat I’ve got on, barely managing it as my skin begins to morph, my eyesight sharpening from the dullness it has fallen into. The weight from the male anatomy is the hardest to disappear leaving me without air, the more my body reforms, hair prickling as it grows and regrows. Bones and limbs twist, organs readjusting. The heaviness in my lungs disintegrates and I’m left feeling like I’m breathing clean air after a long time.

The transformation back into myself leaves me winded and a bit lost for time. Because what feels like agonizing minutes, I’m sure it was seconds that passed. Sitting slumped against the carriage seat I look back up to meet my favourite pair of brown eyes, still unchanged in these 10 years.

I can see the bafflement in them.

And recognize the way his mind is working - a million miles per hour.

‘’Alright so we don’t have much time.’’ I find my voice clearing it by coughing a few times, simultaneously beginning to wrestle with the tie I’ve put on and the white shirt underneath ‘’The Ministry’s lookout is bound to meet us at one point. It’s routine for them to fly around to check any unwanted visitations near Azkaban…’’ I ramble undoing the clothing I’ve put on realizing how hot I’ve gotten as I strip down to my own simple shirt and blazer, along with pants and shoes that have already fallen off my feet.

‘’...so, let's get you into something more comfortable for the time being. And less obvious.’’

I begin to pick up the clothing placing it next to him, for him to wear as intended ‘’Gods, we should've been off already.’’ I grumble standing up, pushing open the seat grabbing my boots, along with another wand.

Turning forward I meet his eyes again offering the wand ‘’It's not yours I’m sorry I couldn’t retrieve it. But it's the next best thing until we can find you a new one.’’

But unlike how I imagined it, he doesn’t react. Still silent, a bit frighteningly so he stares at it mouth remaining shut eyes coming back to meet mine.

‘’Okay then amm…’’ I stumble dropping onto the seat ‘’No rush there, Sebastian. I’ll take care of you don’t worry.’’

With my boots on, I automatically reach forward but stop myself quickly realizing the boldness of my action, watching him scared for a second that he’s going to freak out. He doesn’t. He remains motionless staring at me unbreaking eye contact.

‘’I’m sorry I’m rushing you into this. I really am sorry. But I need you to change, okay? I didn’t break you out of prison to see you sent back. Can you please dress??? Do you need help?’’

He shakes his head at that and lifts his hands wordlessly ‘’Oh fuck, I’m so stupid I’m so sorry.’’ I rush reaching for my wand the concealing charm falling away revealing my wand properly ‘’Alohomora.’’

And just like that the chains fall from his wrist, his hands defined and a bit scarred.

‘’I’ll go outside okay, give you a moment.’’ Receiving back the faintest of nods and a completely unreadable Sebastian, I open the carriage door, the wind slamming into me but unmoving me as I make quick work of climbing onto the empty seat, another illusion charm breaking to reveal no one driving the carriage. Sparks of blue like magic visibly to my eyes only.

Checking the surroundings luckily clouds are beginning to gather, a storm brewing the smell of it thick in the air. Turning back seeing nothing but ocean underneath us I let myself smile a little, as I pick up on thunder grumbling.

A knock to the ceiling of the wood brings me back to reality, setting me back into motion of sliding back into the carriage. Instead of entering I rest one foot on the second step, holding onto the railing atop of the carriage hanging from it practically as I peek inside taking Sebastian in.

The clothes are lost as was his prison uniform but makes him look less, wild in a sense. His eyes hold more intensity to them.

‘’Okay.’’ I begin noticing he hasn’t reached for the wand I let for him picking it up ‘’You’ve got no reason to but, will you trust me?’’ I ask his eyes going to the wand then back to me ‘’Trust me Seb??’’ I try, sliding the wand into the sleeve of my blouse where I have my own wand holster.

After two heart beats Sebastian nods, to which I mimic him turning sideways.

‘’Alright. It’s just you and me.’’ I repeat the words automatically, this having become a mantra the past 10 years before I did anything foolish and dangerous. Scooting to the doors preventing them from closing I reach back with my hand offering it to him.

‘’Place your foot behind mine and hold onto me, okay?? Really tight!’’

Focusing on what I must do next, I don’t pay him mind. I don’t even know if he hesitates or not. Not even the way he slides his hand in mine. I only know for sure when I feel his hand, I grab onto him firmly switching to holding one hand with my right, left keeping us upright as he presses himself behind me. He’s a lot taller than I remember beard scratching the back of my head.

‘’Okay.’’ I say to myself more so, grasp on the bar of the carriage beginning to morph as I feel what I can describe is a pleasant heat of my magic coming to life, the support of the carriage disappearing as if a balloon was popped.

And just like that we are falling.

For a few moments that is. Sebastian’s hold tightens impossibly so crushing me onto him. And as ridiculous as it is, bizarre in the midst of the chaos, of the fear, anxiety, happiness, everything bubbling in me I can feel butterflies.

Upkeep his trust, and proceeding with the plan like I’ve said the carriage disappears. What’s left is my modified broom, which was the rod I was holding onto. Bending my knees, I twist it in front of me and slide it beneath us both.

It’s a move I’ve been practicing since my first flying days back at Hogwarts, the thought of falling of a broom instilling a weird fear into me. So, this move has been years in the making.

Successfully I slide it both underneath us, catching onto the foot holders I’ve readjusted to the front. It does pull us roughly forward and Sebastian lands on it to the side. But I’m prepared. I’ve literally obsessed over every possibility of this.

With a nudge forward and hold my iron grip on him, his hand intertwined in mine I pull him flat against me, twisting the broom to right our positions.

On a normal day the manoeuvre would call for a loud cheer, the accomplishment unseen by wizard kind. But not today. It’s not an occurrence in anyone’s lifetime to break people from Azkaban. And yet here we are.

So, upkeep focus is the priority. Flying Sebastian to safety is the next agenda of business. And with the cover of clouds and budding lightning, that’s the easiest part of today.

***

‘’Well…’’ I pause taking half a step back to observe my handiwork trying my hardest not to make any faces, as I continue running my fingers through his hair, the newly chopped strands sticking in all kinds of directions ‘’...given my limited experience in sheering a sheep once, I’d say it looks rather good.’’ I praise myself satisfied with Sebastian’s now short hairstyle.

Trying to remain positive I stand in front of him, his eyes unmovable from me not once fleeting elsewhere ‘’Hm.’’ I mumble and place my hands on my hips meeting his pretty brown eyes ‘’Feels better huh?’’

He doesn’t reply. He hasn’t spoken a word since the carriage. No scratch that since his cell. I’m not sure exactly what to think of it reminding myself over and over again to keep calm and give him time and space. Which reminds me.

‘’Ah yeah, the bath.’’ I point out the tub that I’ve filled almost to the brim with lukewarm sinking the tips of my fingers in it to test it out ‘’Alright. I’ve got many shampoos, over there…’’ He merely glances to where I point to the small stool, I’ve placed next to the tub ‘’...I remember you liking more woody scents, but I didn’t know exactly the brand you liked, so I bought a bunch for you to try.’’ I smile as I step over to him sitting in the middle of my bathroom, covered with an old towel as I’ve cut his hair leaving the beard up to him.

‘’There are fresh clothes for you, the one’s I gave you were for show and more of a universal size. We’ll get more to fit you better and to your liking when you’re ready.’’ I pass him over to the sink, letting go of the scissors on the porcelain surface, my own products neatly stacked to my liking on the free space of the shelving unit I built one day.

‘’And yeah.’’ reaching for my wand I wave it at the tub, speaking the incantation in my mind watching as the water begins to bubble and steam, trying not to let Sebastian’s deep gaze unhinge me ‘’That’s about that.’’ I smile wider backing towards the door ‘’Take as much of time as you like. I’ll go prepare us some food in the meantime. If you need anything I’m right behind the doors.’’

With that I’m grasping the doorhandle opening it but find myself hesitant with taking a step onwards turning back to the still mute Sebastian that doesn’t move a muscle. It’s as if he’s trying to tell me something while I’m stuck on a level of not being able to understand him. With a softer smile, I step outside with a heavy heart closing the door gently making my way into the kitchen from my bedroom.

My cottage is on the smaller side only having the basics, the addition of a study heaven sent. I send a glance around the spacious room that is the kitchen, entrance, dining room and living room all combined.

It’s a cozy little place to live in, with no noisy neighbours, or busy streets my location being on the edge of the village ensuring peace and quiet.

But tonight, for the first time since moving here the silence is deafening. Knowing who is on the other side of the wall. My body begins moving on autopilot peeling potatoes by hand instead of using magic, my mind keeps racing. It’s hard not to think of more scenarios, more what-ifs. Honestly its quite bloody hard trying not to spiral. Guilt always finds a way to interfere.

Before I know it, I’ve prepared the veggies and precut chicken setting it into the oven it firing up normally. It only comes after the tiredness from my actions as I slump into the chair at the head of the table facing the kitchen, so I’ll be able to see Sebastian emerge from my dimly lit room.

It feels unreal. Reality not sinking just yet - he is here. He is free. I’ve freed him.

The commitment of a crime - breaking a prisoner out of prison - still doesn’t sound bad in my ears. Logically its illegal yes, but I feel that I did the right thing. Because I did. I know I did. I’m just regretful it took me 10 fucking years to do so. Laws cannot help you even when proven right and wrong. Alliances are fickle matters. Money can’t buy you everything.

Shadows moving in the corner of my eye have me tense up, left hand shifting towards the movement, my wand forgotten on the clean kitchen counter. I keep forgetting it in places, wandless magic having gotten easier with training and life experiences. I somewhat relax at the sight of Sebastian emerging from the other room.

He leaves me stunned. With damp hair slicked back, and a clean-shaven face I’m able to see the progress of time on him. It’s not much which is why it strikes me all that more at how all the same he looks. He is on the skinnier side, eyes cheeks sunken, the boyish look gone and replaced by the serious and still wordless man that cautiously walks into the light, eyes fleeting towards the oven - or my wand - then back to me.

The clothes I’ve gotten him hang loose but not too much. They look a little short. He’s taller than I anticipated. But clothing is an easy fix. So is hair.

Despite the sullenness he’s still Sebastian. It's hard to explain it, but I see that spark in him even in the emotionlessness he’s portraying. Makes my heart ache so much more.

‘’You’ve made yourself a cozy home.’’ are the first words that he speaks. His voice is gruff giving a hint of not being used as the tone is low and raspy.

I glance around memories of frantic deep cleaning marathons I’ve spiralled into before setting out on getting him free, going through my mind as I shrug turning back ‘’Ehhh. A recent purchase.’’ I glance around again trying not to look at the trinkets I’ve picked up from adventures and work-related tasks.

At his silence but inquiring eyes I continue ‘’The quiet has its advantages. Or maybe it’s the old age in me, craving some alone time.’’

At this his eyebrows raise as he looks around again, observing the furniture, decor, pictures ‘’No significant other to keep company??’’

I want to snort at the obvious question: his train of thoughts is very similar to the old Sebastian I knew. I shake my head rolling my shoulders back as I lean against the chair, relaxing my feet and body getting comfortable ‘’Wasn’t on my list of priorities to be honest.’’ I scrunch up my nose watching as he walks over to the table, still putting distance between us.

‘’Hmmm.’’ he hums in thought eyes looking over my ringless fingers as if to confirm it ‘’You were always too brilliant for mere mortals.’’ he jokes my smile easily rising at the jab as I chuckle my heart fluttering at the soft smile that he graces me with.

‘’Ah it’s not even about that, and you know it.’’ I reply bringing my hands on the table together starting to fidget as I timidly look at him ‘’Did you…’’ I pause adrenaline and confidence having truly left me ‘’Did you by any chance get any mail?’’

He remains silent eyes breaking away as they look around the room more, the shift from one foot to another prompting him into walking slowly over, hands that previously rested on top of a chair, moving along touching the wood as he comes closer.

‘’You wrote me?’’ he counters with a question, face not giving anything away even if he looks relaxed.

‘’I did.’’ I say calmly ignoring the rise of my heartbeat as he pulls the chair out on my left and with caution sits himself down, body turned towards me.

‘’Sadly, I wasn’t granted those kinds of privileges.’’

Defeated at that, the comfort of Sebastian hearing from me all these years is slightly defeating as I’ve hoped my words would bring some form of comfort. When my owl kept returning with no letters, I’d assumed that he got them.

‘’I tried.’’ I begin licking over my lower lip ‘’I wrote to you.’’ I pause again looking at my hands not able to meet his serious face ‘’I tried opening an investigation for your case.’’ I send a glance to my right the cabinet containing all the documents I’ve gathered during the 10 years to free him. ‘’Even with the right connections I – I’ve had to resort to other measures.’’ I frown raising my right hand reciting the right levitation charm watching as a thin brown folder levitates into the air and makes its way over into my hand.

I finally turn to Sebastian trying not to backtrack at the intense look he’s giving me. The emotionlessness has me on edge, but even more so it’s his stillness. I know him as being animated always full of life and mischief too, his cunning knowing no bounds. Its why I was always drawn to him, so easily agreeing to stupid plans.

‘’You’ve heard us talk. I think you’ve picked up on what transpired.’’ I turn the file over and slide it to him, his eyes unmoving from me as silence stretches between us.

And the more it goes on the more I feel like a little girl again. Uncomfortable, lost, anxious but the feelings I hate the most are insecurity and helplessness. With a look he’s drawing that out of me. Lucky or unlucky my employment has provided me with years of practice, and a ton of experience to leave nothing out as I hold myself composed, straightening up even sitting proper in anticipation for an attack. I don’t exactly know how else to hold myself by, the work of an Unspeakable wrapped in mystery for sure, but also layers of let’s call it character development that had shaped me into the person I am today.

Yet with the reminder of the last few years the trails tribulations, the triumphs, falls, accomplishments, deaths I’m being brought to a dangerous level of crumbling. Under those watchful brown eyes, empty but overwhelming at the same time.

‘’Last time I saw you, heard you – your cries were quite remorseful.’’ He taps his fingers against the table quirking an eyebrow. The memory burns freshly in my mind, aurors taking Sebastian away, Ominis holding me back with surprising strength as I protested and pleaded, begging for them to stop my cries falling on deaf ears.

‘’I think any 15-year-old would react like that when she saw the love of her life being taken away like that.’’ the truth pours out easily the quirk of his brow signalling I’ve caught him of guard.

‘’That’s quite the statement, Mc.’’ He observes, his posture giving hints of something akin to curiosity.

‘’It happens to be truthful.’’ I lower my chin a little still maintaining eye contact.

‘’Even after all that happened. After all I’ve done? After I’ve taught you the dark arts. Got you almost killed?’’ the words pour out of him the collectedness cracking.

‘’They say love is blind.’’ I smile at my own statement relaxing back into the chair.

‘’Mc.’’ He speaks my name seriously leaning forward for the first-time showing anger and frustration shifting in his seat ‘’I’ve manipulated you into doing my biding. Played on your nice heart, taken advantage thoroughly. I didn’t even think about consequences. You’re not daft. You’re aware of all of this.’’

I simply nod at his words smile still present ‘’I didn’t care about your feelings or wellbeing.’’ He adds on my shrug seemingly rising more out of him ‘’I would’ve done anything and everything to find a cure. Anything.’’

At this I tilt my head watching him. I’ve imagined him going of like this in my mind many times. My own imagination a lot more hurtful than the real thing truthfully. Even if his words are baneful, I find myself being okay.

‘’You never lied very well to me.’’ I find myself stating his lack of anything prompting me to go on ‘’I could always read you. I knew you better than you did yourself.’’ I hum after that Sebastian shaking his head.

‘’And here I thought I’ve been freed from the looney bin.’’

At that statement my smile disappears my fingers tapping on the table to rein him in ‘’No need for that, Seb. We both know what anger makes you do, your regretful-ness always leading you to grovelling.’’ I spit back. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists stance tense.

‘’I think between the two of us you’re the fool in this equation. You used to tease anyone to never underestimate me, and yet here you are.’’ I pause reaching for the pocket of my pants ‘’You know I’m not the one who put you behind bars.’’ Confidently I go on ‘’Somehow even with little privileges you’re a Slytherin after all. Its why you didn’t protest or react when the Polyjuice potion wore off in the carriage.’’

His breathing is becoming deeper, chest raising and falling noticeably ‘’You knew something was up. You’re not one to throw in the towel. Even after – after the circumstances.’’ I pause not wanting to mention Azkaban directly ‘’I have it on good authority that you’ve gotten some of my letters.’’ His breathing hitches my smile rising ‘’Like I said you can’t trick me Sallow. We’ve had it worse in our 5th year in some regards.’’

I get completely serious waiting for him to protest, waiting for him to raise an uproar as I’m sure he’s easily recollecting the events in our Hogwarts days. The thought of us being kids and definitely the definition of luck as the dangers we’ve faced would leave anyone else traumatized or dead.

I’ve been in the presence of dementors before, the ministry having random outbreaks, some of my missions having sent me to meet even worse creatures than them. Sebastian might have been alone for these past years dealing with happiness and joy being sucked out of him – for a fact I know especially now that he’s going to be okay. He has changed yes, grown as I did, but he has also managed to adapt to his surroundings. He didn’t let them take him entirely apart.

‘’Even with this…’’ I rest my hand on the table, knuckles against the wood opening my palm up we both watch as a fire like shape raises, the tingle of my ancient magic humming comforting to be brought to the surface ‘’…with what life has thrown at me…’’ I shake my head the magic rising ‘’…I’m…’’ the words die on my tongue.

Magic retracts itself disappearing into thin air leaving behind a warm feeling my offer to the once more stoic brunette a sad smile as I pull my hand back but place the small box from my pocket on the table ‘’You’re not alone.’’

My voice is strained as the oven begins to beep annoying loud providing the opportunity to look away and blink tears into nonexistence as I will myself to calm down, waving my hand in the familiar and automatic pattern as I watch the over, turn off its doors opening. The dish floats without a hitch onto the stove, the oven doors closing.

Glancing over at Sebastian his gaze is stuck on the unopened box and file. I sigh deeply steadying myself as I reach over and flicker the velvety box open revealing a simple silver ring pushing it to him. I tap the table twice, the indication for him to open the document. Which he slowly does reach for, opening it as if it’s going to attack him at any moment.

Placing both of my hands back on the table, I summon the wand I’ve gotten for him his declination of it before still a mystery to me. Catching the unfamiliarly weighted wand, I gently place it on the table right in the middle between us, the offering going unsaid.

Retreating my hands I reach for the other pocket of my pants, pulling out and putting on my own wedding band which is a fairly recent accessory I’ve started wearing.

Looking over at the silent man, his eyes are taking the paper in rapidly. Reading. Re-reading. Re-checking. The certificates. The ring. The wand.

‘’Nothing is set in stone.’’ I softly begin Sebastian still unmoving ‘’Except for the death certificate. That was tricky to arrange, more so than the wedding document. Oh, Merlin that was ridiculously easy.’’ Once more I shake my head letting out an empty laugh, surprised but not showing it as he has picked up the wedding ring his silence stretching for longer than I’m used to from him.

It slides me right back towards the edge, anxiety picking, the knot in my stomach twisting to a painful degree.

‘’L/N?’’

I nod immediately as his eyes meet my own ‘’I think my surname is rather nice.’’ I blur out ‘’No that Sallow isn’t but, it kind of defeats the whole ‘you’re publicly dead’ purpose.’’ I rant his face not changing ‘’I’m sure the daily prophet will mention your passing tomorrow.’’ I glance to the left at the clock ticking away, signalling its way later than it feels. It still feels surreal to have Sebastian in front of me.

He opens his mouth but closes it just as fast something bothering him, twisting his pretty face into a frown. It would be weird if he wasn’t bothered.

‘’Like I’ve said nothing is set into stone.’’ I raise my hands in surrender, Sebastian’s attention on the wand now. He’s watching it and not picking it up.

‘’I’ve used you.’’ His statement catches me of guard as anger sparks ‘’Need I repeat all the misdeed’s all the faults I’ve made you dealt with? I saw how scared you were of the ancient magic, I saw how it drained you and still I’ve pushed and pushed you, into exhaustion and numerous shaves with death without a pause. Heck, in the scriptorium after casting Curcio I left you behind in favour of exploring. Mc. Why?’’ he deadpans ‘’Anne my own twin sister sent me to Azkaban. Ominis my best friend didn’t hesitate to betray me. You…this is madness. You are mad.’’

He stares at me incredulous clearly having run these questions through his mind before. He rehearsed these words. Before me doesn’t sit a ‘notorious prisoner, a criminal from Azkaban’ anymore. Before me is sitting the Sebastian I know and love. With the same scared expression, same sort of desperation eyes pleading for things to make sense.

Hence why getting up is so much easier body moving on its own the scared boy I was infatuated with having the same effect on me, pulling me in towards the wildfire that he is. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t particularly react in any way as I step around the table and in front of him rising my hands.

Meeting his eyes my palms land on his cheeks. Gentle to touch thanks to the shower and shave they feel familiar in my palms and yet different. His body tense from emotions and racing mind going gradually into a relax state as he hunches forward, eyes blinking away tears.

I crowd into his personal space Sebastian making room by spreading his legs, welcoming as I brush my fingers into his messy hair, the motion making me feel 10 years younger as I’ve used to do this on the regular whenever we were alone together.

My heart all but leaps from my chest as his hands find themselves above my hips in a respectful place sliding over my back drawing me into a hug which I happily succumb to, holding him close to me only slightly self-conscious if he can hear how my heart speeds for him.

Otherwise, the surrealness returns, the overwhelming joy of finally putting my plans into motion of them being fruitful hit me. Closing my eyes I attempt at holding back tears, but it’s an impossible task with the way he’s holding onto me, guiding me as if I’m made of glass to sit in his lap rearranging us and yet not parting a millimetre away from one another, as he buries his face into my shoulder and stills, big hands splayed over my back as if I’m the one who’s going to disappear.

To be honest my hands are doing the same, grasping his clothes rougher than needed the reassurance not quenched entirely. So, I let the tears flow I’m sure dampening his shirt in the process, alerting him of my state only after a while since he makes the first move, calloused hands this time cupping my own cheeks, thumbs attempting to wipe away tears.

‘’I’ve not seen you cry ever dearest Mc, and I’m the one who makes you cry so easily??’’ a spark of mischief fizzles in the end his hesitant smile words causing me to huff an awkward laugh, as I look up towards the ceiling trying to will away the tears.

‘’It’s merely a side effect of a heartfelt reunion.’’ I let out some air looking back at him feeling hope creep into my heart which is unnerving ‘’Long distance and all.’’ My voice cuts off in the end the humour not at all humorous.

He hums in response I think feeling the same sentiments as I am, preoccupying himself with getting acquainted with me again. I know I’ve changed, its only logical. We are not kids anymore. I let him indulge as one hand continuously caresses up and down my back, the other touching my lose hair, temple, nose, cheek and so forth meanwhile I do the same taking my own selfish time in admiring him so up close, blissfully ignoring reality the bubble we’ve fallen into, serenity. A slice of Eden dare I say.

Its once his hand parts from my face and find my left hand, that he speaks again ‘’This is not how I’ve imagined my marriage would start.’’ He begins softly voice still containing raspiness to it, fingers tracing and rotating the wedding ring on my finger ‘’Rather unorthodox.’’ He muses in the end blessing me with a genuine smile.

‘’It’s quite fitting for your brand.’’ We both grin and my tease ‘’And like you’ve mentioned before. I’m not meant for mere mortals. Let alone being one for tradition or normalcy.’’ I let my ancient magic sparkle watching as he stares in wonder at our joined hands the blue like flame illuminating his face into a pretty blue colour.

‘’And yet you’re bestowing the sacred privilege of not only honouring me with your last name but taking me rather shamelessly as your husband?’’ he looks incredulous the more he speaks sort of holding his breath in a sense to see if I’m suddenly going to change my mind ‘’A dead man, a criminal. Prisoner. A murderer.’’

His handsome features twist into a frown showing disgust and what he’s thinking about himself I’m sure holding more vile words back. Unphased and already having expected this I keep calm, and with my right free hand reach for his occupied hand retaking the wedding ring I’ve picked for him twisting it between my fingers a trick I’ve learned from a muggle magician, slight of hands handy even in the wizarding world.

‘’To me you are just Sebastian.’’ I admit smiling watching his eyes glossing over lower lip trembling briefly ‘’I’ve obviously made my choice haven’t I. I’m giving you a choice of your own. You can accept it or refuse it, regardless of my actions and feelings because this is about you and your life from this point onwards.’’

The pause is heavy in the air, the coldness from the dementors making a fleeting appearance as I’m reminded of where he is coming from after all. He’s not the Sebastian I know not entirely, even if I am drawing him out slowly. Hence my fears are justifiable.

‘’You’ve taken one life, Seb.’’ I whisper lowering my hand searching his eyes ‘’In self-defence.’’ I pause again gulping down the knot in my throat ‘’You’ve no clue what I’ve done since you’ve been gone.’’ I give him a sad smile, looking between us at the way he’s holding my hand ‘’You have not paused to think that I might be dragging you back onto the wrong path. That I’m not who I appear to be. That I might be the bad guy here.’’

His relaxed body tenses the more I talk, expression once more dropping all emotions as he hardens eyebrows furrowing as intensity sparks behind his eyes ‘’You could never be.’’ He’s quick to hiss, gentle hands tightening the shake of his head warming me.

‘’Oh, but I am.’’ I drop both my hands in my lap, his own not leaving me for a moment ‘’I’ve earned many names in the years of my employment at the ministry.’’ He gets taken aback by that my smile lighter ‘’Professor Hecat had an eye for detecting certain potentials in students. Even the ones with good intentions.’’

I wait for him to figure out, to make the connection which he does brilliantly fast ‘’Mc…’’ he speaks my name sweetly to which I shake my head.

‘’I hold no grudges or ill against you Sebastian. I never had.’’ I straighten his hold unmoving ‘’I had this feeling ever since our youth that we were always meant to be.’’ His eyes widen ‘’It may be delusion from my part, but I do not regret the things I did with you, or the things I had to do to get you out.’’ Its frighteningly easy to slip into the serious persona I tend to wear as an Unspeakable. I hate that I’m doing it to him, switching up emotions not really comforting him as I should be.

But he needs to know the truth.

‘’You’ve always been on my m…’’

Unable to finish the sentence I’m startled into silence as his lips meet my own. Of course, it’s a rather surprising move I think for the both of us, as he doesn’t entirely commit to it his slightly chapped lips moving shily. He retreats as quicky as he came, eyes panicked as they search my own.

He meant the kiss I know that much. Its written all over his panic-stricken features and eyes. This is where the prison has left a mark on him, turning the flirtations and overconfident Slytherin to an insecure man holding me firmly and yet blushing at a mere peck that he so clumsily delivered.

Breaking the poor man’s torture, I end up closing the distance initiating the kiss gently, timid lips still unsure as they follow my own, a tremble to them prompting me to wrap my arms around his shoulders to hold him closer in reassurance. Or it might be my own insecurity still gnawing at my subconsciousness. Emotions are a tricky business.

For the moment being, the sweet slow drag of our lips is enough to keep me grounded. To appreciate the sacrifices made, the overthinking and panicking at times, the survival methods the both of us had to resort to. It matters not in the end as long as we are back in each other’s arms. And if that makes me bad, morally grey as the whispers in the ministry are floating around – I’ll be the villain. Gladly. As long as I get to see Sebastian. As long as he’s alright. Dare I hope for him to be happy finally.

Slowly parting he follow suit chasing me for a fracture of a moment. The small action has me smiling as I lean my forehead against his, running one hand through his hair trying to hold back, and calm my breathing and the beating of my heart.

‘’I’ve missed you.’’ my voice comes out unfiltered ‘’I’ve missed you so much, it ached.’’ I grasp his hand with my other one placing it over my heart ‘’Hurt. It hurt so bad, Seb.’’ Blasted tears make an appearance as I give space to look at him his own expression crushing as he looks so sorry and dejected.

‘’Oh darling…’’ he whines gulping, thoughts I’m sure all over ‘’Just you and me yeah??’’ he whispers upkeeping eye contact ‘’Remember? I made a promise.’’

I close my eyes at the memory. The memory holds joy as it does tragedy. The stupid fool that he was, he followed me one night when I stumbled upon a camp of poachers. The hero he wanted to act just got in the middle of things. It took one second of distraction from my part, one bloody second that he got struck with a nasty hex that left him instantly bleeding and unresponsive.

That brough a whole another aspect to my ancient magic as a thunderstorm raged for the rest of the night. He narrowly escaped death only thanks to me finding the by then deceased wizard’s wand, breaking it to relive him of pains, and a good 2 Wiggenweld Potion’s to get him semi-conscious.

Having had to reveal the room of requirements and thankfully learning enough healing charms to ‘mend’ him together his promise befell through a fervour he had. But his smile was bright, genuine a bit aloof. He meant every word he said.

And right now, he’s being deadly serious waiting for my response.

‘’Even after all this time?’’ my voice comes out unsure, Sebastian immediately nodding bringing our joined hands upwards to which he presses a kiss to the top of my knuckles.

‘’I could ask you the same thing.’’ He smiles with ease drawing out a blush to flush over my cheeks ‘’You’ve waited all these years, haven’t you?’’ he hums as I nod not trusting my voice ‘’Found impossible ways to keep giving me hope. To keep me alive. Sane.’’ I can merely stare at him, ignoring my own trembling lips letting myself enjoy his touches and proximity ‘’Only you. It has always been only you.’’

Unlike the younger version of Sebastian who had shown his fire-y passion usually through kisses and rather daring touches now and then, this Sebastian still handling me like glass pulls me into his embrace, resting his head onto my shoulder hiding his face in my hair and momentarily from the world.

So, I follow suit, running one hand over his back caressing, the other finding its way into his curls the feeling of them, having imagined it to many times to count, currently a blissful affair.

‘’Let me see that ring.’’ He speaks up as I’ve seemingly lost my own voice, doing as he wishes parting only slightly to watch him accept the ring I’ve been holding onto this entire time, doubts nasty little critters as I like to not so affectionally call these emotions, piling and adding weight.

With a held breath, he examines the silver ring turning and twisting it around looking at it from all the angles, his lips painted with a faint lopsided smirk of amusement and mischief. He looks up at me the side of his eyes crinkling a bit.

‘’No flashy jewellery.’’ He quirks an eyebrow, cupping my ring bearing hand raising it to which his gaze falls into my own ring which he gently rolls around my fingers ‘’Always the one for practicality.’’ He chuckles retreating his hand to put his wedding band onto his finger. Only when it slides fitting onto his digit perfectly do I release the breath I’ve been holding.

‘’It’s not even about practicality.’’ I pout watching as he flexes his fingers, rotating his hand as if testing the feel of the band his definitely mischievous eyes landing on my own ‘’I’m not one for rocks it’s all.’’ I shrug attempting to cross my arms waiting for the onslaught of his teases giving in immediately as his hand intercepts both of my own.

‘’Just sturdy, powerful and extremely rare metals then?’’ again with the quirking of his eyebrow his comment reminding me how brilliant he still is. It didn’t take him long at all to figure out that our wedding bands, silver in colour have been made from like he said extremely, nearly extinct pieces of metal that took quite the ventures to get to them.

Not only have they meaning in the eyes of everyone as being symbols of our love and devotion to one another, but they provide us with certain magical enhancements.

‘’Not meant for mere mortals.’’ Once more I throw at his face wanting him to understand how much he means to me, his playfulness lowering a notch as he looks at me with affection. With more confidence in his actions, he leans in capturing my lips with his, the kiss syrupy as he takes his time as if to explore my mouth anew, hands finding themselves over my thigs where he grips onto my flesh and pulls me even closer.

I sigh into the kiss letting him take the lead, not minding his touches that grow bolder kiss paired with teeth and tongue reminding me of his teenage self actually who wasn’t afraid of trying out new things.

What has my brows furrowing is the thrust of his hips coming at random the full feel of his manhood clicking in my brain I shift in his lap in such a manner that has me wrapping my legs around his hips, the back of the chair providing an annoying blockade preventing me from wrapping around him.

As if he reads my mind – making me briefly wonder if he has become a legitimus – his hands slip underneath me his touch daring as its on my bottom. With a bite to my lower lip, he lets out a shuddering breath shifting getting up all the while holding me against him. The damned chair falls over causing a racket in the quiet house but leaves him and myself unbothered as his lips find their way under my jaw teeth grazing against my jugular the action arousing in some odd way.

‘’Oh Seb…’’ I groan as he presses a wet kiss to a ticklish area, his swaying prompting me to open my eyes, seeing the sunrise outside the window.

‘’You sound so beautiful.’’ He groans continuing with his ministrations ‘’And I’ve merely begun.’’ Cheeky is what he is, hands grasping my backside squeezing even.

‘’Oh.’’ I squeak ending up giggling at my own response, Sebastian ending up laughing with me, momentarily stopping his ministrations ‘’Ah Merlin. You’re still obnoxious.’’

On purpose I’m sure he delivers a slightly stinging bite ‘’Ouch Sebastian!’’ I try to scold him, his lull into a step side-tracking my thoughts as I cling onto him.

‘’And you are still, sensitive dear wife.’’ he smirks as I look down at him, his grin almost the same one that promises nothing but trouble. But his use of title, has a blush hitting me all over, heat practically washing over me. I see how my reaction pleases him, as he continues walking carefully. A hint of my old Sebastian is showing through the sparkles in his pretty eyes.

‘’I’m not sensitive.’’ I pout trying to keep calm and my head clear ‘’You always imagined that.’’

He chuckles as we walk past the doorway, the sun outside casting gentle rays onto the floor. It’s quite the miracle for it has been raining for months, and today out of all days it’s miraculously sunny.

‘’Ah. Sure yes. As your dutiful husband I shall agree on that and apologize darling.’’ He exaggerates making me muse as he stops and hovers over the bed.

‘’Now you are exaggerating Sebastian.’’

‘’Happy wife…’’ I put my hand over his mouth to stop him from finishing the sentence, as I giggle looking at him in astonishment.

‘’Don’t you even dare.’’ I warn letting go of his mouth in favour of grabbing him by his shoulders as he dips down ‘’Seb…’’ I gasp in fright as it begins okay, him bending forward but it ends up in me falling on the bed and him crashing into me leaving me winded from surprise but not the impact.

He burst into laughter whilst I do the same, covering my face for a moment looking at the ceiling above me, Sebastian shaking in my arm from laughter hanging half off the bed.

‘’That was rather…accurate for the two of us.’’ I mumble running my hands up and down his back as he begins to calm down, the corner of his eyes crinkling slightly whole expression lifted and joyful.

‘’Excuse me then dear wife. This was not in my plans.’’ He giggles still greatly amused, only now readjusting himself off me, and manoeuvring the both of us onto the bed sideways still as he doesn’t put any distance between us.

‘’I would sure hope not.’’ I smile cupping his cheeks ‘’Fear not dear husband, I am not made of porcelain.’’ I raise my eyebrows ready for his teasing. He takes a different course, in the form of closing the distance kissing me with more vigour, remaining soft in his ministrations his hand oddly in place.

I kiss him in return trying to calm down my shuddering breath as he steals it literally. Even as I cannot uphold my head upright and fall to lie down, he follows eagerly pressing pecks, kisses over my jawline cheek, cheekily kissing the tip of my nose eyes half closed as he admires for a moment and then returns to reward me with the slow drag of his lips.

I let my hands drop in the meantime, rubbing them over his clothed back. He’s still wide like he used to be, but he has lost his muscles that were built thanks to Imelda’s rigorous training for quidditch. And our adventures too. Not only did he lose his bulk, but also his strength which was proven a few moments ago. A reminder that he has gone through something traumatic.

So due to his hesitant touches, and to be honest my loss of patience I bring my hands forth, over his arms to the front, finding the buttons of the collared shirt I’ve got him to wear. Luckily, he didn’t bother with the waistcoat, so my intention gets quickly realized as I undo the garment.

He breaks the kiss due to my touched, his breath hitching as my hands come in contact with his chest, one of his hands grasping my wrist gently stopping me in my ministrations.

‘’Mc I…’’ he pauses looking between us instead at me, his cheeks, and ears flushed pink.

Wordless I understand him right now. Pulling my hands back I offer a big-closed lip smile his eyes turning to look at me in fright.

‘’It’s okay.’’ I speak softly grabbing the tucked part of my own collared shirt. He shifts in a way that allows me to pull it over my head which leaves me in my chemise, Sebastian looking something between frightened and aroused as he watches me.

‘’I understand, okay?’’ I say slowly as if I’m talking to a frightened creature grasping his hand. I bring it over to my left shoulder pushing the sleeve of my chemise lower to reveal the ugly burn that stretches over my skin ‘’We don't have to do anything. Don't force yourself. We can stop. It's okay. But know that I don't want you any less. You're still you, and I'm still me. Nothing’s changed.’’

As if weak he bends down, resting his forehead against my own. His hand still on my shoulder begins to gently caress my skin whilst I bring my own back to his chest listening watching him intently for any sign of rejection. Not showing any, I proceed to touch him with utmost gentleness tracing over his stomach, chest feeling his bones all the more. This time around I kiss him in distraction, as I push the shirt over his shoulders.

Half expecting him to freeze, I’m left pleasantly surprised as he gets up and begins to push off the material, discharging it behind us. As he sits on his knees above me chest noticeably moving as he’s breathing heavily, I’m the one who’s left admiring him.

Even covered in tiny scars, scraps and hair, he’s still my Sebastian. Even this fragile and tired looking I see the fire in his eyes.

‘’Ohh Sebastian!’’ I exclaim following with a fit of giggles as his veiny hands, which I notice only now reach for the belt of my trousers. I leave my hands to rest next to my head smiling at the manhandling that he is doing.

‘’You said you weren’t fragile.’’ He taunts licking his lower lip, as the belt comes undone and is pulled off, his hands clumsy as he tears the button of my trousers off.

‘’I am not.’’ I agree watching him delighted in how he begins to pull down the clothing along with my winter socks ‘’Are you in a rush darling?’’ I bite onto my lower lip, watching as he gets rid of his own pants, rather clumsily kicking them off ‘’My, my what a pleasant sight to be blessed with.’’ I arch an eyebrow looking him up and down.

He’s quick to climb back atop of me this time nestling his hips between my legs, delivering a kiss to my shoulder the action surprising me making me blush ‘’Hey that was my line Mc.’’ He swops down to kiss me but briefly as he rolls his hips into me leaving me lost for words and my thoughts derailed at his sudden boldness.

‘’You’ve grown daring over the years.’’ He notes breaking the kiss, returning to leave kisses over the other side of my cheek, descending down my neck ‘’Shameless?’’ he asks beginning to roll his hips against me, the lack of clothing much more revealing obviously.

It’s not that our undergarments are see through, but they are made of light materials. Which enables me to fully feel him against my core. And o my gods…

I groan at a particularly prominent thrust, which pushes me higher up Sebastian not leaving for a moment, simply continuing with whatever he has in store the deviant now proceeding to mark me above my collarbones.

‘’Fearless.’’ He speaks up pressing kisses against my scar, his lips his touches making me flinch initially. But he’s holding me down tenderly, pushing the chemise lower revealing more of my skin. Revealing more of the imperfections – scars I’ve earned in his absence.

‘’You are giving me too much praise, Sebastian.’’ I frown a little, letting my fingers dance over his chest, and to his sides, his hipbones.

‘’Not nearly enough.’’ He raises above me, looking like a man entranced re-connecting our lips together, this time letting his tongue run over my bottom lip making me hum in appreciation. Growing confident due to his actions, I wrap my legs over the back of his thighs attempting to press him harder against him, his rhythm now stuttering as I grab his arse, squeezing.

He breaks the kiss offering a mischievous smirk ‘’Diabolical. Absolutely diabolical.’’

I grin at that, showing him my tongue to further entice him. Which works perfectly. He grasps my hand like a gentleman actually, prying my hands away from his still perky ass pinning my arms to the sides of my head smirking down at me not breaking eye contact.

‘’You are the love of my life.’’ The statement has me blinking a few times as I look up at him stunned ‘’My everything.’’

Unable to respond Sebastian takes the lead, taking the approach as he did in the beginning. His hold, his closeness, his kissing all gentle and slow. It gives me the sense as if…as if he’s imprinting this into his memory. Because the more we progress, and his hips begin to rut against me harder, the more I have this feeling as if he is plagued by something.

And I understand it. Giving into him, relaxing on the bed letting him take what he desires even if that means my lips will remain bruised, and climax delayed. It’s all about him.

‘’Oh Seb…’’ I moan into his mouth, shifting my hips to accommodate him further seeing the need in the glare he offers. His freckled skin is so prettily flushed, hair messy, and skin slightly damp as the room grows hotter ‘’You feel so good against me…’’ I encourage nodding pulling my right hand away to push the lose strands from his forehead smiling as he kisses my wrist in the progress, panting softly.

‘’Missed you…’’ he says strained, moving us his hardness I’m sure throbbing as it makes a mess out of me rubbing against my clit on and off again rising tingles under my fingertips ‘’…my pretty girl.’’ I smile at the compliment, dragging the top of my nails down his chest his shudder loud as he intakes breath quickly, his left hand grabbing a hold of my thigh twisting it higher the change in position making me throwback my head, as he parts my soaked folds even through the now ruined fabric.

‘’So pretty…’’ he pants biting into his lower lip, head falling next to my own. He keeps moving, and my hand keeps progressing, finally reaching the band of his undergarment, slipping my fingers inside the dampness ‘’Oh MC!’’ he suddenly grunts, as my fingers barely touch his hot and leaking manhood.

His hand like before is quick in catching and stopping my own from progressing, as he convulses and twitches, hip stuttering regularly.

Caught off guard I merely watch him dumbfounded as something warm and wet grazes against my fingers and palm, his hold preventing me from doing anything else. So, I remain still and accommodating until he slows to a gradual stop, still twitching now and then even as he releases my hand, letting me examine the fluid.

‘’I think I’ve died.’’ He utters into my neck, his breath ticklish making me smile as I bring my hand to my lips and taste him ‘’Oh I’m definitely dead.’’ His voice dips lower.

Peeking at him he’s looking at me as if I’ve put the stars in the sky, while I click my tongue ‘’I don’t think so husband dearest.’’ I smile affectionally, pushing him lightly of me and to the side, rolling on my left to face him, fingers wiped on the comforter.

‘’This must be it. The afterlife.’’ He dramatically chats ahead rolling onto his back sighing whilst I get up following him, pushing down the chemise further revealing my torso entirely, sitting next to him. He peeks at me, eyes taking me all in blush returning immediately ‘’You fair maiden, like a siren coating me into a demise I’ll gladly plumet into.’’

I grin at his poetry dipping down to kiss him gently, his right hand warm as it settles over my lower back resting there ‘’That would make us both dead.’’ I point out musing ‘’I for one am enjoying my married life very much.’’ He perks at that.

‘’A dream come, true.’’

I remain close bend over, half resting on his chest admiring him ‘’Oh its very much so a reality.’’ I begin sighing contently tracing his face with my left and free hand ‘’You and me, together again.’’ I pause to let it sink in ‘’Never to be separated again.’’ I silently promise, certain of my words as I know I will stop at nothing to protect him ‘’You are my everything too.’’ I admit seeing how his eyes slightly widen.

‘’My whole reason of being.’’ I whisper as I lean down, staring into his pretty eyes, my gaze slipping only to his lips and back up to capture them. He moans breathlessly into the kiss which is neither slow nor speedy. I keep it simple and rather, light as I focus on pushing the chemise lower whilst I climb onto his lap, my hair falling around our faces like a curtain.

‘’My Sebastian.’’ I break the kiss, imitating him from before but taking more time almost torturously so but in the best away possible as I kiss the corner of his nose, his temple, above his relaxed brown, then begin my descend down his cheek ‘’Handsome as ever.’’ I let my tongue dart out teasingly ‘’Drawing me in with your mere presence. Enough to keep me wanting you for years.’’ I groan, as I trace the side vein in his neck, still merely kissing him feeling how his hands push away the fabric of my chemise hands resting over my hips, trembling as I put a hold under his chin, directing his head in the way I want to. And he goes along with it.

He lets out little sighs, at the contact of my lips over his skin, specially whenever I ghost over a scar. I buckle my hips against his abdomen, his body jerking automatically which raises chuckles from him his whine loud.

‘’You even sound pretty.’’ I praise happily sitting up looking down at him. Seeing him breathless already, pleading eyes staring at me hair messy heart racing. Oh, how I’ve longed for him.

‘’Dashing.’’ I drag both hands, using my blunt nails to run down his chest watching as goosebumps arise over his skin ‘’Stunning, dapper, noble. There are not enough words to describe how amazing you are.’’ I lean down to steal a kiss giggling like a schoolgirl as I pull back Sebastian following. With a hand planted onto his chest I stop him in his tracks, winking. Lowering myself over his thigh I raise an eyebrow which I’m sure makes me look menacing as I can see his Adam’s apple bob.

‘’All I say it’s true. I’ve left you speechless.’’ I tease grasping the waistband, and without a second though pull down the fabric, watching as his manhood bobs up onto his stomach, body twitching again, his legs obviously in place as I’m settled on him.

‘’N-not true.’’ He gets out rising onto his elbows, as I observe the remnants of his release. Seeing there is to be a lot more movement and manoeuvring to get him rid of his undergarment, I grab the material and with some strength put into it tear it apart, Sebastian left with his mouth parted in a small ‘o’ shape.

‘’Ah it’s all very true.’’ I continue letting the now ruined material fall of the edge of the bed as I lie myself between his legs, my own hanging of the bed. Meanwhile I let my hands run up and down his thighs, smiling up at him ‘’I was never able to lie to you. I don’t see the appeal of trying it now.’’ I cheekily say, dipping down to press a kiss onto the side of his inner thigh, the muscles tensing at my ministration.

‘’Shhh relax, my love. Relax.’’ I encourage, looking up at him. I run my nails over his other thigh, whilst starting to suck lovely marks that will bloom later for a reminder.

‘’Enchantress.’’ He grinds through his teeth ‘’A divinity.’’

Thanks to his high praise I let my tongue out, dragging it over his thigh making a show of it ending up moving up like a predator keeping my gaze as such, chin tilted downwards as I lick at his half-hard cock the twitch immediate.

‘’It’s merely me, Sebastian.’’ I say in a low tone, grasping his manhood with my right hand rising it up taking it in, the veins, the head, everything only after looking at him. He looks destroyed already, something I always dreamed of seeing ‘’Only me.’’

And with that I experimentally suck on his tip, the groan he lets out sounding like someone is strangling him whilst his body tenses hands grasping the duvet underneath us twisting it.

With some focus I pry my left hand from his thigh, taking his hand in my own his hold tense. It doesn’t deter me, as I run my tongue over the mushroom head licking the excessive precum, not enjoying the taste but enduring it gladly, seeing how he keeps trashing – and I’ve barely done anything.

Giving him some mercy thanks to the pleading look he gives me I relent, and begin to sink on his cock, flattening my tongue as I descend, closing my eyes as I concentrate on my breathing. I barely get him in my gag reflex already making my throat contract, so I help myself with my right hand, droll dripping from my lips.

Ignoring the tears in my eyes I push forward sucking once, making it my mission to please him further by sinking more.

‘’No, no, no stop, Mc please…’’ he raises up hands gentle as they cup my cheeks pulling me off him. I gasp for air, not minding the spilled tears or droll. Neither does he as he’s quick to wipe them.

‘’I’m sorry I didn’t mean…’’ I begin to panic thinking I did something wrong, and that didn’t like, even as he shakes his head his smile shaky at best, the kiss that follows not so reassuring.

‘’You did wonderful.’’ He breaks away to reassure me holding onto me firmly, readjusting his hold so he can manhandle me this time to sit back, higher over his thighs and to be level with him ‘’You’re a minx, a temptress you are. More perfect than I ever imagined I swear it.’’ He grins happily pressing a chaste kiss ‘’But I don’t want to cum so soon.’’ He looks at me in despair mixed with hope.

‘’You…wow…’’ it daunts on me his extreme reaction, as I observe his face needing to make sure he is telling me the truth ‘’Okay.’’ I find myself saying his smile winning over my heart all over again as he pulls me against him, his cock right underneath me, hot and hard.

‘’I simply cannot resist you.’’ He confesses hugging me for the moment being ‘’You are truly everything to me. You’re too good to me. I want to make you feel good too.’’ and with those words and his strategically placed hands on my chemise he rips the pants portion at first, ending up destroying it with more ease than I did pulling the material away from us.

‘’You already make me feel good.’’ I state planting my knees into the mattress, my right-hand dipping between us, and through my slit collecting the wetness which I then raise up ‘’See?’’ my tongue lowers again. I hold his chin with my left hand, offering two of my fingers. He gets the hint opening his mouth tongue peeking out to which I let him taste me ‘’Hmmm.’’ I moan lightly smirking, pulling my fingers out.

I grasp his dominant hand dipping both of our hands to my folds, the astonishment on his face one I shall remember forever, as he does a double take, his fingers departing from my own making me shudder and groan as he touches my clit.

‘’See what you do to me?’’ I begin my breathing slightly unsteady as he doesn’t pull away ‘’Feel how wet I am for you. What you do to me Sebastian.’’ I gasp as one finger prods at my entrance, entering me gradually his face one of concentration and observation.

A face I’ve seen many times before when we were studying. But never have I seen it in this context which sheds a whole new light on him. He nods at my words slowly ‘’Guess what?’’ I grin close to press my lips against his ear to be a tease, while he wiggles in a second fingers making me sigh at being finally touched ‘’This is all you. Noone else can do this to me. Only you. Always you.’’

He moans at that, ending up groaning as he pulls his fingers out, rolling us on the bed, time for laughter over as I’m once more on my back, but with him spreading my legs wide open making a place for himself between them, his manhood hot as he rubs it against my wet folds.

Bent over, one hand reaches to hold the back of my head angling me however he wants me, his lips bruising as he demands all of my attention. And it’s what he gets as I moan helpless as his cock begins to push inside me. He breaks apart as if in disbelief, gasping for air the bravado gone the more he pushes in, the stretch pleasant and exciting as I want him to hurry along.

But lost in the way he’s handling us, the way he feels, I get lost in the way he looks how intense this is for him, how taunt he goes once he bottoms out, looking at me incredulously.

‘’It’s not a dream.’’ I find myself saying grasping his head forcing him to stay grounded ‘’It is all real.’’ I grin seeing the wobble in his lower lip ‘’My husband.’’ I remind by showing him my ring, ending up dropping onto the bed, as he thrust catching me of guard.

‘’Whow.’’ I say in awe blinking up at him and then glancing down to see us connected.

‘’My wife.’’ He finally speaks ‘’Mc.’’ He says my name clearer to which I nod.

‘’Yours Seb. Only yours.’’ I reassure my body this time jerking as he pulls back and rather harshly thrust back in. It’s proof of inexperience and the fact that he is driven by need mirrors our days in school perfectly. We’d fool around, take risks, we’ve explored each other’s bodies, and have been each other firsts. But it sadly didn’t go further as he was taken prisoner soon after our night of love-making that resulted in some tears but unbroken promises.

‘’M-mine. Only mine Mc.’’ He nods vigorously repositioning his hand, one on my hip one on the bed a look of determination drawing itself across his features ‘’Mine.’’ He says like it’s a matter of fact, pulling back only to set up a rather ruthless pace. Having imagined our reunion in these kinds of circumstances as well – because I have needs to duh – I’ve not imagined him to be like he is.

To just take from the get-go in such a manner. He was always delicate when it came to the more intimate matters, even with his eagerness and firey passion. I can see both of that here, I can feel it in the way he’s changing and angling his hips differently, eyes focused solemnly on my face as I hold onto the bed for dear life, the feeling of what were merely tingles before now turned into live sparks, that are zapping through my body.

It has my toes and fingers curling, the need to curl in on myself great as my thighs begin to shake, my lower abdomen pooling with insane amount of heat. It has tears gather in my eyes once more but this time for other reasons as I feel good all over it being overwhelming.

I practically shout as something brushes my clit. It has me forcing my eyes open as I see Sebastian lick his fingers and drop it to my clitoris, his hand calloused and rough but oh my gods its perfect and exactly what I crave for. What I need.

‘’That’s it, Mc.’’ He approves a small smile forming on his lips ‘’You feel so good.’’ His jaw goes tight as he clenches his teeth, suddenly pinching my clit.

‘’Ah fuckkkk Sebastian.’’ I yelp shaking my head ‘’Harder, fuck me harder, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum…’’ I repeat like a broken record suddenly hugging myself keeping my breast from bouncing as an electric current is running all over.

‘’And who is making you…ugh…cum huh? Who is the one…ahhh, cherishing you like you deserve…ugh to be?’’ he says through his teeth, his gaze wild as he stops for a moment twisting my left leg over his chest and shoulder changing everything entirely the new angle, making my eyes cross over one of Sebastian’s hands pushing my arms away as he grabs onto my boob, squeezing it.

‘’Y-y-you.’’ I reply shakily having a death grip on his arm not knowing what else to do. It’s hard to process that I need to breathe at the moment, my body doing things on its own.

‘’I didn’t hear you, dear wife.’’ He barks with an edge in his voice. His eyes. His demeanour.

But it’s not enough to make me realize it, as he leaves me absolutely dumb on his cock, the only thing on my mind selfishly is to cum.

‘’You, you, you, you Sebastian.’’ I speak strained my muscles contracting, as his hand resumes circling my clit sealing the deal ‘’My Sebastian, mine.’’ I babble, eyes closing tight as white noise fills my ears barely registering the noises I’m still making, only feeling how he rocks against me, how he moves so precise and hard the orgasm washing over otherworldly as it keeps going on.

Faintly I am aware of Sebastian manoeuvring me into another pose, continuing past the shakes and trembles that overrun everything else. Sooner or later something in my brain kicks it into gear to pump air into my lungs as I breathe heavily, enjoying the tingling but otherwise spent.

Feeling an arm settle over my stomach is what encourages me to come back so to speak. I raise a hand up to wipe away the corner of my eyes only then prompting them open. Looking around I acknowledge we have been turned to lie comfortably on the bed with our heads cushioned against the pillows.

Or well…mine. Glancing down feeling the heat radiating on my right it’s Sebastian. Instead of backing away like I’d assume men would do, he has plastered himself onto my right side, using my bicep as a cushion, one arm thrown over my mid-section, one leg over my right.

Dropping my arm, I’m surprised to find he is awake and has come to his senses quicker than I have as he grasps my left hand, fingers dancing with my own. It doesn’t take him long to feel the outline of the wedding ring.

‘’I didn’t even get you an engagement ring.’’ He mutters bending my hand holding it above my chest as he examines my hand and the piece of jewellery.

‘’Technically that would be on me too.’’ I think aloud my voice slightly hoarse. Must be the screaming ‘’I did propose and marry us.’’ I snort ‘’Did all the heavy lifting, didn’t I?’’

I turn to look down at him, just as he peeks up at me, fingers intertwining with my own as he rests our hands next to me for comfort.

‘’I did have a ring.’’ Is what he says, the statement leaving me bewildered which I’m not quick enough to hide as he sighs, looking away ‘’I had a few ideas for proposing. A few spots to choose from.’’ He quiets down again. Bending my right hand, I start to caress his back in reassurance.

‘’Knowing you back then, you had the most rageous ideas, didn’t you?’’ I smirk looking ahead of us at the painting I have above the dresser. It’s a muggle painting so it doesn’t move, but it depicts a castle in Scotland. A castle that’s very similar to Hogwarts. It was too charming not to buy.

‘’You’ve no idea.’’ He blows air looking up at me ‘’I think you’d flat out reject me at some of the propositions I had in mind.’’

I laugh ‘’I probably would.’’ I agree looking down to meet his gaze amused. We fall silent.

‘’I tried to tame a dragon…’’

‘’Oh, Seb noo!’’

‘’Heyyyy I was head over heels! I’d do anything! You deserve the best!’’ he rambles as I laugh in amusement observing as he raises onto his left elbow looking at me adoringly ‘’I swear.’’ He chuckles ‘’I was foolish at times and even stupid. But crazy? I was crazily in love with you. And that has not changed.’’ His smile is exactly the smile he used to have back then.

And it slowly daunts on me. Reality sinking in. That he is here to stay. I have finally freed him. He is in my grasp. He still loves me.

‘’Oh hey, no tears. Why the tears?’’ he jumps as they gather quickly and are instant to fall down my cheeks ‘’Mc.’’

Instead of answering I kiss him softly.

‘’I’m just so happy.’’ I admit smiling widely ‘’You make me incredibly happy it’s all.’’

At this he is taken aback features softening, and I’m sure his own eyes filling with tears ‘’Me too Mc. Me too.’’

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

// Masterlist 2024 //

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy smut

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licorice-tea · 7 months

Note

congrats on 100 followers! I just started reading your work because of ur prompt post and you do notttt disappoint!! soooo I want to request Zoro w lovers rock BUT SPECIFICALLY the end dialogue

“Now, how many men have you kissed?”

“Very few. “

“But you offered me a kiss. Why?”

“Such a foolish reason, I'm afraid. I just wanted to kiss you. “

- 🍙

Such A Foolish Reason

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Content: reader is usually kind of a flirt and Zoro is unsure of how much they actually like him!

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: another request from my 100 follower event! ty for the submission @🍙 and i hope you like it! <3

You had already determined that Zoro wasn’t going to make the first move, no matter how glaringly obvious you made your feelings for him. The man was simply out of his breadth, and too unsure of how to navigate this sort of emotional territory. That didn’t through you off though; you still want him more and more every day. So eventually you had taken it upon yourself to initiate the first kiss, since you could barely contain the depth of your feelings for him any longer. Every moment around the swordsman is like a game of “will they? won’t they?” at this point.

But no matter how badly you desire Zoro, you can’t just dive straight into him into a kiss the way you want to. He’s not the kind of person to do things without being sure, and neither are you. Even something as simple as kissing would require a straightforward request and, hopefully, he would agree to it.

Ever so hesitantly, you turn to Zoro one starry night at sea. His sharp jawline is turned away from you, and his eyes are trained on the waves down below. You hate that he’s so concentrated on the ocean when you’re sitting right there, shoulder to shoulder with him. Because tonight, all you want is to be the focus of that intense stare.

“Zoro”, you whisper, and he responds with a grunt, “I have to ask you something.”

Finally, he turns to face you. His irises sweep across your starlit features, then come back to meet your own eyes. From the way your pupils are blown wider than usual and your soft, glossed bottom lip is being bitten under the top, he gathers that you’re nervous. It’s strange, for someone of your confidence and boldness. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A furious blush ignites and burns across his cheeks in a matter of seconds. And though he’s unsure of how to respond in words, Zoro can at least nod.

Your palm finds its way over his jaw as you tilt his face so that it will align with yours. His skin is softer than expected; so soft that you give into the temptation to simply run your thumb across his cheek. It’s warm, which isn’t surprising given how pink he’s turned.

Zoro expects that you must have done this a thousand times to be able to touch him with such great care. To make him feel so strongly that his mind is scattered and he can barely get his thoughts in order. He’s engrossed in the feeling of you.

From your point of view, Zoro has simply gone quiet again. But you can feel the furious beat of his heart through his neck’s pulse-

“How many men have you kissed?” One of the thoughts manage to tactlessly slip out.

You immediately stop and hesitantly pull back “Very few.” Though your reputation as a heartbreaker precedes you, you rarely find yourself falling hard enough to do much of anything with the men you flirt with. Most of the time, it’s only to get things out of them; directions, supplies, etcetera.

This surprises Zoro. “But… You offered me a kiss. Why?”

The corners of your mouth curl upwards as you smile bashfully. “It’s a foolish reason, I’m afraid. I just…” You trail off with a shrug, and Zoro leans in- hooked on your every word. “Wanted to kiss you.”

And so, you do.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro fanfiction #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro #zoro drabble #drabble

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alexiabae · 1 year

Text

KIND¹; lia wälti x fem!reader

Summary: during a match between switzerland vs spain, lia was involved in y/n's injury.

Warnings: mention of blood, injury, hit on the head, fluff.

Note: English is not my first language.

not my gif.

"We can!" Irene shouts in the changing room before they all get out of it and go to the tunnel to wait.

This was the captain's job, but since the last encounter that it passed to other hands, even if she didn't wear the band. It doesn't matter anymore. The real captains would show it with it or without it, and Irene is the proof of it. Of course Irene gave them a speech after Ivana's, not despising the function that the coach gave her.

They all embrace one another and give some encouragement before they put a foot out from the changing room, leading it Ivana.

Y/N waited between Tere and Aitana. She brushed her braided hair, nervously biting her bottom lip.

"Stop it, you would mess it up." Aitana muttered, putting off Y/N's own hands from her hair.

Y/N turned to look at her. "It is our last chance." She confesses her worries.

Aitana smiled gently. "I know. And we give everything. You know that last game isn't all our fault. It's too from the coach side. So don't blame it on you, show them what you're capable of. Even if some of them know about it." Aitana winked, reassuring her friend and teammate. They are from the same age, they always played for the same team and they always played in the national team, youth and senior. Aitana knows everything about Y/N and Y/N knows everything about Aitana.

Y/N nodded, grabbing a hand with hers and turned to look in front again, meeting Tere's back. She saw how the other national team came out, concentration written on their faces. She gets scared when saw Ana's face, she knows that face. It was like if the blonde read her mind that when saw her, she gave her one of her soft smiles, raising a hand and waving it in the air. The midfielder does it too, but with a lipped smile.

Some of her teammates greet her too. Alexia and Jenni were the ones near her and started a little conversation, including a hug.

"Nos vamos para casa, Aitana." Y/N leaned briefly to Aitana and muttered only to her to hear.

"Cállate." The Catalan hissed, rolling her eyes. They still have their hands intertwined.

Y/N tried to focus on Aitana's hand and look away, avoiding the rival team. Some chats were heard between all of them, until the referee indicates that it was time to go outside. Y/N let out Aitana's hand and walked behind Tere. Once they are in the center of the pitch, they put themselves horizontally, waiting for the anthems to sound.

"You look pale, are you okay?" Alexia asked her while they waited for Ivana to do the captain's things.

Y/N nods, hugging her. "Sip. No need to worry." She lied to her, not wanting to disturb the concentration for her fault.

Alexia looked at her suspiciously, but remained quiet. She patted her shoulder and ran to her position, Y/N following behind, receiving a wink from Aitana since she is to her side.

She finds Ana's gaze again, who is right now in front of her. "Hey, you missed me?" Ana smirked.

It relaxes a little Y/N's nerves. "Right now no. Ask me another day." The blonde snorted by her comment.

They remained quiet and heard the count down, Spain put in movement the ball. Y/N received the ball and she passed it to Irene. The minutes passed and the possession was for Spain, like they always control the ball and Switzerland has two times the chance to score. It was a corner that almost changed the result, coming again from the Swiss part.

"You need to wake up, Y/N!" Aitana ran towards her and tried to make her concentrate. "Forget about your expectations and play. Play like you always do." The Catalan gave some encouragement to her friend.

Alexia keeps an eye near Y/N, wondering why she is playing like that, missing easy passes or distributing the ball wrong.

"You have right, Aiti. Sorry." Y/N nodded, running with more conviction towards her position, waiting for Misa to kick the ball.

The rest of the first half, Y/N changed her style. She passed to play badly to be the one who created more chances to score. They went half time with a draw.

"I don't know what Aitana told you. But keep that way." Alexia walked by her side, bringing her left arm around Y/N's shoulders.

Y/N smiled. "Sorry about the start... My insecurities get in the way." She confesses, blushing a little.

"Well... You changed your mood. If you want to talk about it, let me know." Her friend offered, smiling with affection.

"Vale. Thanks." Y/N said, leaning briefly her head on Alexia's.

They walked towards the changing room, the coach giving some tactics for the second part, letting them five minutes before to go again towards the pitch.

Irene grabbed Y/N's shoulder and stopped her until the defender was alongside and started to walk again.

"I know what happened before. I understand why you acted that way, our coach doesn't give us hope to win. But I'm giving you it." Irene started to say, the height difference is showing a little. The Basque look down to look at Y/N with firmness. "You can do whatever you want with the ball. You have that magic. You can't let ignorant people get to your head. Play like nothing matters, like if you are a little kid again and the time doesn't matter." Y/N bites her bottom lip to hold the tears from the words that her captain gave her. Because yes, she always considers Irene, Alexia and Jenni their captains.

"Thank you." Y/N muttered, nodding with her head.

"Any time." Irene smiled, squeezing her arm.

•••

The start of the second half was epic for Spain. They scored after five minutes to start it, thanks to Y/N that gave the assist to Salma Paralluelo. People would think that it was for a motivational speech from their coach, but the reality was very far away from that. It is thanks to the players that they scored. A new change came with the words that they exchanged between them.

It was the 70th minute when something changed again. Y/N was acting like a pivot, she is not used to playing in that position, but new changes came in the national team, so she needs to adapt. Well, it was in a counter attack from Spain, Y/N was the last player and she started running upside waiting for Ona to pass the ball to her. Y/N was in the center of the pitch when Ona passed it to her, when she was going to control the ball with her chest, there was a little hole on the pitch that made her lose some balance and make the rival player hit her on the face, with her feet.

Y/N felt and heard the sound the impact made on her left eye. She knew that it wasn't on the eye, but it hurt like it was. She let out a scream, falling to the ground while she covered her face with her hands.

For her teammates, it happened in slow motion. They saw how it was clearly on the eye, making them run towards her and towards the rival player, screaming.

Ana runs quickly to put herself in the middle. "Hey! She didn't do that on purpose." She tried to explain at them to understand, holding Alexia and Aitana. The blonde looked briefly to her friend, seeing how affected she is.

"I don't care!" Aitana roared. She was the first one to go to where Y/N was laying, pushing Lia aside aggressively when the Swiss tried to see how Y/N is.

Alexia was biting her lip so hard to retain what she was thinking that surely soon she made a cut. So she decided to go where Y/N is laying surrounded by her teammates.

Lia saw how the medic team from Spain came quickly and moved out all the players, seeing how they reincorporated Y/N up. A lot of blood was covered on her face.

"It's not her eye." Ana told her, letting out a relief sigh. She heard the medics saying to Spain's players that it wasn't her eye.

Lia thanked whatever it is to hear that. The brunette raised her hands towards her face and let tears roll for her cheeks, feeling really bad for her actions. Ana noticed how quiet her friend was and saw how she covered her face with her hands.

"It's not your fault, Lia. It's a bad coincidence." She muttered, hugging her by her shoulders, kissing her head.

"If something more happened I would never forgive myself, Ana." Lia muttered.

Ana sighed again. "But that thing didn't happen. So, please stop overthinking." She saw how Y/N stood up, holding with a hand whatever the medics gave her. The public started to clap, making Lia look at what happened and standing up she too, tried to go where Y/N is, but Ana grabbed her wrist, shaking with her head.

"Are you okay?" Aitana asked once she stood up, wiping something on Y/N's face with affection.

"It hurts, but I'm okay." Y/N said in a hoarse voice.

"I'm going to kill her." Aitana muttered by her side.

Y/N snorted. "Shut up. Me and you know that it wasn't true. Also, it is not her fault. There is a hole here." She pointed at the spot where it was, seeing how Aitana clenched her jaw.

The others approached her, relieved sighs and heard that it wasn't a big injury. Y/N walked slowly out of the pitch, until she saw the referee going to the player who made this to her and showed a red card, earning claps from the public and some of her teammates.

The medic team took her towards the tunnel, Y/N keeping an eye on the player that was walking behind them. The Swiss received some support from the staff team and teammates before the brunette walked towards inside.

"Hey." Y/N stopped walking, turning to look at the brunette player.

Lia stopped too, caught with the guard off. "Hey..."

Y/N smiled, grimacing a little when she felt the skin tense. "Do you want to accompany me? I pass it badly with this type of thing."

Lia nodded slowly, seeing the confusion on the medics faces. Y/N extended her hand with a smile, the Swiss took it and let it guide herself by the other three people. They approached Spain's changing room and Lia let the medics do their thing. She walked where Y/N was laying and held her hand, squeezing it when saw how scared Y/N looked.

"I don't like needles." Y/N let the other know, knowing how scared her face turned on.

Lia still didn't speak, she just squeezed her hand, caressing her palm with her thumb too. She saw how her left eyebrow was inflamed when they took off the ice pack, her eyes fully close and a bruise starting to form. The Swiss swallow, already feeling more guilty when she sees the state she lets her rival.

While the medics stitched her left eyebrow, at some point happy screams were heard, letting them know that someone scored. Right now it was the last thing that Lia cares about.

"Vale. He terminado." One of them said, cutting off the thread while the other put on a bandage.

Y/N sat up while talking about some things with them, clearly Lia can't understand it because it is in their language. They give her a water bottle, offering too one to Lia before they get out of the big room, letting the two alone.

"Sorry about Aitana's behaviour. She is very protective of me." Y/N muttered, giving her a lipped smile.

Lia copied her. "I understand. I should probably do the same thing." Lia talked for the first time.

Y/N liked her voice. "Your face sounds to me..." The Spanish player said, her eyebrows knitting, once again forgetting about her new injury and hissing from pain.

The Swiss thought that she looked adorable. "I'm Lia. I play for Arsenal, we face each other two seasons ago." She explained, caressing mindlessly Y/N's hand.

Soon, Y/N's eyes brighten. "You are Ana's friend! She told me stories about you two."

Lia blushes. "I guess it is me."

"What are you doing here?" Someone else came, interrupting their conversation.

The brunette lets Y/N's hand fall and stand up, ready to go.

"Shut up, Aitana. She is here because I asked her if she can accompany me while they stitch my eyebrow." Y/N said, standing up too.

The Catalan looked at Lia suspiciously, but remained quiet. Soon, another one came, making Aitana walk to where they are standing.

Alexia frowned. "¿Qué hace ella aquí?" She asked in Spanish. She knew it was rude, but wanted an answer without the Swiss finding out.

"Y/N tiene un crush." Aitana stated, her jaw clenching. Y/N blushed, hitting Aitana's arm. She hoped that Lia didn't understand but her name and crush is enough.

The brunette blushed too, maybe she didn't fully understand what the Catalan said, but something she caught.

Alexia leaned her head aside, walking to where they are. She extended her hand towards Lia, the Swiss accepting it shyly. "Next time be more careful, please." The midfielder said kindly, but with a firm tone, just like her gaze.

"Alexia!" Y/N whined. The mentioned shakes Lia's hand softly and hugged Y/N carefully, giving Aitana a smug smirk.

"I don't find it funny." Aitana growled, annoyed. She was standing beside Y/N, with her arms crossed about her chest. Alexia rolled her eyes, in part understanding her, but the other she just wanted to hit her.

More of them came to see how Y/N is, frowning and giving some dirty looks at Lia.

"Irene, Jenni! Let her alone, I ask her to be with me." Y/N grabbed Lia's hand when saw how the tall women walked towards the brunette with decision. She put herself between Lia and the two women.

Jenni looked at Alexia, who was there before them and wanted an explanation.

"Se nos ha enamorado." Alexia answered, shrugging with a playful smile.

Y/N turned towards her quickly, giving with an eye a bad look, while her cheeks turned red. It makes Alexia laugh.

Irene raised an eyebrow, looking at the Swiss inquisitive. "You are Ana's Lia." She pointed out, crossing her arms. She wanted to intimidate the woman, she heard too about Ana's stories and if the blonde was right, Lia can have all the approbation from the team. Barcelona team unless.

Lia swallows, nodding. In other circumstances, she doesn't get so intimidated by someone easily, but she kicked in the face of one of Ana's friends and she looked intimidating.

"Uh? Our Ana?" Jenni asked loudly, looking for Irene to confirm it. The defender nodded. "Es guapa." Jenni winked to Y/N, earning some protest from Aitana and others and the laugh from Alexia, who was finding it funny.

"Dejadla en paz." Y/N hissed, blushing more. She tried to move with Lia to the exit, but it was impossible.

"Lia? What are you doing here?" Ana asked, confused, entering inside and walking towards all of them. She raised an eyebrow when saw Y/N and Lia holding hands. "¿Qué me he perdido?" She inquired towards her teammates.

Y/N roll her eye. "Nada." She said quickly, letting out Lia's hand, even if she soon missed her contact.

Ana looked at her, a loving smile creeping on her face. "You are good. Nothing happened to your eye?" She asked, putting both hands on Y/N's cheeks, examining her close eye, seeing a purple bruise forming around it.

"Just stitches to my eyebrow." Y/N muttered, crossing her arms like a child. The blonde Swiss chuckled and kissed her forehead carefully.

"Le gusta tu amiga." Jenni hummed, making Y/N choke with her saliva. Ana turned to look at Jenni and then at Y/N, raising once again an eyebrow. She is still holding her face with her hands.

Some chuckled was heard around them, Lia a little confused but guessing that they are making fun of Y/N, for her reaction.

Y/N moves out from Ana's hold and walks to her cubby, throwing her empty bottle at Jenni. The forward grabs it easily, laughing.

"Lia?" Ona called her. The Swiss looked at the defender, who approached her and whispered. "They are making fun of her because they think that she has a crush on you." She felt bad for Y/N and wanted to help in a way, and if Lia can help you, it was okay by her.

Ana heard what the freckled girl said and smiled. Lia opened her eyes, surprised. Not waiting for it at all. Then, she walked slowly towards Y/N, not caring anymore what they could say.

"You know...? I heard some stories about you that Ana shared with me. From her perspective you look funny and adorable. I don't know... But, do you want to take some coffee later? Maybe we can share some embarrassing stories about Ana." She said, a kind smile on her lips.

Y/N looked at her, a little in awe. "I love to. I have a lot." She muttered, agreeing with the proposal.

Lia chuckled. "Good. I have a lot too." The Swiss said, grabbing Y/N's phone from her hands and writing her number phone on it. "Here you go. I texted myself to have your number, I hope you don't mind."

Ana looked offended. "I'm going to be the topic on their first date? I mean, if it was for another thing okay, but not for embarrassing stories." She muttered, making her teammates laugh.

"Look it for the good part, you create a new couple." Jenni said, laughing.

"I still don't agree with it." Aitana said stubbornly.

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #lia wälti #lia wälti x reader #lia walti #lia wälti imagine

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lynzishell · 3 months

Text

The Past 💛 Atlas

Asher and I sit in the living room of his apartment. I’ve been here a few times before to hang out with Lex and watch a movie or two, so I know this cluttered space well. Today, I sit on the worn rug with my back against her old couch. She was dragging me to the flea market one Saturday when she spotted it on the curb outside a tall brownstone apartment building. She likes patterns and bright colors, and this couch has both. Though, you wouldn’t have known it when we first looked at it. It wasn’t until she spent the entire afternoon and evening cleaning it with a determination and vigor that only Lex possesses for vintage furniture that the bright yellow color really shone. To me, it looks like something out of a basement room in 1995, but to her it is complete perfection, and it’s cozy, which is what matters most to her.

When I insist that I’m fine on the floor, Asher makes a point to lie down and stretch his body across the sofa behind me, as if to imply I’ll regret it, but I can’t change my mind. But, what he doesn't know, is my reason for choosing to sit on the floor rather than Lex’s famous yellow couch: The sketchbook I caught sight of poking out from the edge of the red-painted pallet-turned-coffee-table.

“Is this yours?” I ask as I pick it up and start flipping through it.

“Yeah, just something I was trying out,” he says nonchalantly, though I feel him sit up, watching me curiously.

The pages are full of different types of grasses and wildflowers, mostly individual ones where he practiced different species from different angles and different stages of life, some with color, some not, some have bugs or grasshoppers on them or bees buzzing around. Then, there are a couple pages with vibrant meadows. There’s one with a lone tree blowing in the breeze, with leaves being carried away. Another with a dog running through, a butterfly on his nose. They’re so intricate and detailed that I feel the need to sneeze just looking at them.

“Ash, these are amazing.”

“Thank you.”

He leans over my shoulder, and I feel my entire left side register his sudden closeness. Pointing to the page he says, “That’s my dog, Jasper. There’s at least one of him in every book I’ve had since I got him.”

“How long have you had him?”

“Uhm,” he pauses to mentally calculate, “almost eight years.”

“Oh wow. Must be tons of them.”

“Hundreds. I have a few books dedicated just to him. When I first got him, I would study him, drawing different parts over and over, his nose, ears, the different expressions of his eyes. For a while, I became completely obsessed with drawing his paws.” He stops to laugh at the memory, “It wasn’t easy either. He’s so energetic, it’s impossible for him to keep still unless he’s sleeping. Even if I do catch him sitting still, he’ll run to me the second he sees me looking at him.”

I just give a quiet chuckle in response. I don’t know anything about dogs. Or art. But I like the way Asher looks when he talks about both. He always lights up, whether he’s animated and excited, or casual and relaxed, the same spark is still there lighting up his face.

When I don’t say anything, he smiles, lies back on the sofa, “Y’know, I was watching you today.”

I set the sketchbook aside and turn to face him, resting my elbow on the sofa seat, careful not to get close enough to touch him. “You were, huh?”

“Did you know that when you concentrate, you do this thing where you pucker your lips?” He attempts to imitate this thing I supposedly do, but fails when he starts laughing at himself, or at me, probably both.

“I do not.”

“You do,” he lets out a sound that can only be described as a choked giggle, and it makes me spit a laugh.

“So, what, you just stand there and stare at my lips like a creep, or something?”

“It’s hard not to. I’ve never seen anyone do that before. Not like that anyway.” He tries to imitate it again, only to devolve into giggles.

“You do the opposite, y’know.”

“What do you mean, the opposite?”

“When you’re really focused, you suck in your bottom lip and like, hold it between your teeth.”

He takes a moment to try it out and then nods his head when the action feels familiar, “Oh shit, yeah, I do do that, don’t I? Here you are, giving me shit, and it turns out you’re the one staring at my lips.”

“It’s hard not to.” I stop and let the words hang in the air, mostly to see how he’d react, but also because it’s not a lie. Catching him biting his lower lip at work sometimes can be mildly distracting. He nudges my shoulder gently with his leg and says with a grin, “Creep.”

Then, with a raised voice and a wave of his arm he says, “Okay, but the best,” as if it’s now some kind of competition that he’s clearly about to win, “is the singing! The way you like, sing to yourself when you’re working.”

“What about it?”

“Well, for one, it’s cute as hell, but also, if I did that, everyone would be so annoyed with me and tell me to shut up. I don’t know how you get away with it over there.”

I scoff, “No one is gonna tell me to shut up. For one, I’m cute as hell,” I say with a smile, and continue before he can interrupt, “but I don’t know, I can’t help it. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the time. But I think I’m quiet enough that most of them just tune me out by now, and besides, I have an amazing voice.”

“You’re awfully confident about that.”

“I should be. I’m professionally trained.”

“Are you really?”

“Yeah, our parents were very strict about the skills we had to learn growing up, and singing was one of them.”

“Well, shit, now I want to hear you sing for real.”

“I’m not just gonna perform for you, but I’m sure if you hang around me long enough, you will eventually.”

Unsatisfied with that answer, he says, “Hm. Do you ever do karaoke?”

“Yeah, karaoke’s fun. But you can’t just watch me. If we do that, I will make you sing at least one song with me.”

“That’s fair, I’d do that. As long as you promise not to make fun of me if I’m terrible.”

“I’d never.”

“Okay, but now I’m curious, what other secret skills do you have?”

“Uhh, let’s see, there was the singing, and then we had to learn to speak French, fluently—”

“And who’s ‘we’?”

“Oh, me and Dawn, my twin sister.”

“I didn’t know you were twins. I’m going to have follow-up questions, but okay so singing and French, what else?”

I can’t help but smile as his eyes shine with genuine enthusiasm. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone be this excited to know about me. I have to admit, it’s really flattering. I’ve never considered myself to be a very interesting person, especially to someone as charismatic and creative as he is. Somehow, he makes me feel like I am, though, so I continue, “The last one was piano, which was the worst of all of them.”

“Oh my god, right?!” He slams his hand down on the couch so hard that he practically sits up and it makes me jump. “I had to take piano lessons too, and I fucking hated it. Can you still play?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure I could figure it out, but why would I?”

“Good point,” he laughs, “I definitely can’t. Honestly, I don’t even remember how to read music, but don’t tell my dad that.”

“Why would your dad care if you can’t read music?”

“Because he’s a fucking composer!” he announces, with a wave of his arms. “Oh my god, the poor man, though, he really wanted Iris and me to share his love of music. Iris is my sister, by the way, but not a twin, she’s two years older than me. Anyway, neither of us took to it, and we both ended up doing visual arts. She’s a graphic designer, and I make fucking trees for video games.”

“Hey, you do way more than trees! You also make grass and weeds!” I say this with a hint of sarcasm, obviously he’ll do far more than that as the project progresses.

“Right, I fucking love weeds,” it comes out almost aggressive, he clearly means it, and I start to wonder if his casualness about the wildflowers was more of an act that I initially thought. “I tried a bunch of instruments though. He bought me a guitar when I was twelve, ‘cause like, who doesn’t want to learn guitar, right? Me. That’s who. I gave up after a week because my fingers hurt,” he stops for a moment to laugh at himself and I marvel at his smile as it stretches from ear-to-ear, his gray eyes bright and intense, “and THEN,” his words coming out quicker and more animated as he goes on, “he was like ‘alright well the kid’s got rhythm at least, how about the drums?’ And like, okay, the drums were fun and all, but I just couldn’t care less. I’d fuck around on them, but I had no interest in learning to be a good drummer. The best he was ever going to get out of me was dancing. Otherwise, I just want to put my headphones on and draw.”

“Well, I’m glad you pursued your passion in the end because you really are talented. The detail you put into your work, it’s the best I’ve seen.”

“Aw, well, shit, thank you,” he extends his hand out, but it comes just short of my arm, so he tugs the sleeve of my cardigan gently with his fingers and holds onto it. I think my compliment caught him off guard because he’s no longer laughing and his voice is softer now, “and, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. My dad is the sweetest, most supportive man in the world. If anything, I think I was a bit spoiled. I feel a little guilty that he kept investing in these instruments that I would just toss aside. There’s no way I can disappoint him further by admitting I don’t even know how to read music anymore.”

“Don’t worry,” I assure him, “your secret is safe with me.”

I’m acutely aware that his leg is resting against me now, and he’s rolling the fabric of my sleeve between his thumb and middle finger. Normally, I would have already scooted away from the sofa. Pivoted my body so the conversation could continue, but so that I could not be touched. But I don’t feel any need to do that. Not with him. His affection is so subtle and absent-minded; I can tell he’s just feeling comfortable with me. Something about that makes me feel comfortable with him too.

What really takes me by surprise, though, is that I want more. I want to lie next to him on the couch, to rest my head on his chest, to feel him run his fingers through my hair while he watches tv and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat keeps my own calm and quiet. Somewhere deep inside, I know exactly how it would feel, and I ache for it.

“Hey,” he tugs on my sleeve, pulling me out of my thoughts, “where did you go?”

“I’m right here,” I tell him.

“You left for a minute there. What were you thinking about?”

I’m not really sure how to answer the question. I try, but I can’t think of anything that doesn’t sound ridiculous, so no words come out.

He cocks his head to the side a bit, looking curious, and says, “I can’t read you. It’s like your thoughts and feelings are written all over your face, but I don’t speak the language, so I can’t decipher your expressions.”

“Ahh,” he sits up with a groan and covers his face with his hands, “fuck, I’m sorry. That sounded really lame, and I regretted it as soon as it came out. Please, just tell me what you were thinking about, distract me from my embarrassment.”

I chuckle quietly. I don’t think what he said was that lame. I know what he meant. But his current state of vulnerability gives me just enough courage to attempt to answer his question, so I give it my best shot.

“I was just thinking that it feels like I’ve known you for years. Not that I’m feeding you some line about how it feels like we’ve known each other forever or something. But you just feel… familiar? I guess. Like, you know when you watch a movie that you haven’t seen in years. You don’t remember it, and you don’t know what happens, but you remember what's happening as it’s happening. Like déjà vu but not. I don’t know. I’m not making sense.” I give up and let my head fall forward onto the couch to hide my face, “maybe I should go before we continue to embarrass ourselves more.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moves his hand to the top of my head and runs his fingers through my hair. It feels exactly the way I knew it would. The way his long fingers run across my scalp, then curl and pull on the strands gently toward the ends, letting them fall little by little. Somehow, I know the feel of his hands as well as my own. I freeze, trying not to move or make a sound. It’s almost as though, if I don’t acknowledge the act, I can ensure he doesn’t stop. And I don’t want him to.

But he does. The sudden tension in my body makes him pull away, “I’m sorry. Was that okay?”

I lift my head up and soften, “Yeah, it was okay. Unexpected, but it was nice.”

“Okay, good. I know I can be a bit touchy-feely sometimes, so if I ever make you uncomfortable, you can tell me. But I’ll be better about asking you first.”

“Thank you,” I say with a nod.

“Of course,” the words come out so gentle and quiet, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a such a sweet half smile that it makes me melt a little. And then he adds, “I really like hanging out with you, Atlas.”

I am officially a puddle on the floor. “Me too.”

Prev // Next

✨I wanna give a HUGE shoutout to @madebycoffee for creating the poses for this scene!! They are so perfect, I literally sobbed when I put them in my game 😭 It means so much to me to be able to bring this scene to life the way I imagined it. I absolutely adore you, Coffee, and I am forever grateful to have met you and to have the opportunity to share this love of writing and sims with you!! Thank you for loving my boys and for making this moment possible for them! 💖

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cressidagrey · 3 months

Text

Indelible Scars - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel knew pain. So did Galena.

Also known as: Azriel’s mate is a healer and the first time they meet, he nearly dies on her.

Warnings:

Irresponsible use of Sleeping Potions, Cassian's POV

(thanks to @cafekitsune for the super pretty dividers!)

The fabled Galena was nothing like what Cassian had expected.

But then, he hadn’t really thought about what to expect. Somewhere in his mind, he had thought she would be even older than Madja. An Ancient High Fae that had seen everything and because of that experience would be able to help Azriel.

But Galena wasn’t.

Galena was young, with her magic feeling like ice and peppermint, which she kept tightly leashed…until it bled all over the room, the moment she started casting.

She was powerful, he realised that then too. Quite powerful, exact in the way she wielded it as well.

Ice and Peppermint, and somehow matching her scent perfectly, like freshly fallen snow in a forest.

He could smell that now, all over the room. Her scent weirdly seemed to match Azriel’s of cedar and ist, even as miserable as he smelled at that moment, the normally clear scent muddled with pain and hurt and sweat.

She worked differently than Madja had. Madja was calm and collected, seemingly nothing surprising her. Zoreen had been warm and caring.

Galena…Galena was…pointed.

He couldn’t find another word for it. She knew what she wanted to do and how.

She had cast more magic in five minutes than he had ever seen Madja do and had then taken a break from that to ask Cassian to open up every window.

“Do you have ice lying around or something?” she had asked quietly, and Nesta had asked the house to provide teatowel with ice in them, just like Nesta and she had used throughout the night.

“We tried to get his fever down,” Nesta said quietly. “But it didn’t work.”

“We’ll try again,” Galena said calmly. “It’s getting too high for my peace of mind…if this doesn’t work, I’ll have some more draughts for him to take, but I don’t want to do that to him before I know what is actually wrong with him…I don’t want to take the risk of accidentally making something worse,” she uttered under her breath. Cassian slipped the ice beneath the back of Azriel’s neck, getting a weak groan in response, another cough…

He hated every fucking minute of it.

And then Cassian could swear he could see Azriel relax, which was ridiculous because he was unconscious, every muscle of his body lax anyway.

But the tightness around his mouth had eased, like he was resting and it was…

“His breathing is easier,” he said wondrously. The wheezing had stopped. His chest moved…easier.

“It’s me,” Galena’s voice was quiet, coming from where she was perched on the chair he had procured for her.

Cassian turned to see her sit there, nearly unnaturally still, eyes closed, concentrating on something. He hadn’t thought that she could even hear him. “I am modulating his magic, so to speak…Stopping him from fighting to come awake…He relaxes, and that makes it easier for him to breathe,” Galena explained.

“You can do that?” Nesta asked surprised. Cassian had never even heard from anything like that. He met his mate’s gaze, from where she was standing at the foot of the bed, hands wrapped around the wooden footboard. Watching Galena with something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

Not pity maybe…but understanding…Nesta had taken one look at her and she had managed to keep the shock from her face better than he had. Since then, she was watching Galena like a hawk, her arms crossed waiting.

“As long as I am near him, yes. It’s normally used under very different circumstances,” Galena explained, blinking open her eyes again. “You can use it to soothe a babe back to sleep. Clotho lend me an ancient book about nursery magic,” she explained nearly absnetmindeldy, as she searched through her back for something.

She was a very relaxing presence to be around, he realised. Quiet and focused and…so still. Like every movement was thought out. But then, he reflected, as he saw the cane leaning against the chair he had procured for her…she probably did need to think about every fucking movement she made, so it wasn’t going to outright hurt her.

“You know Clotho?” Nesta asked, sounding shocked.

“We are Pen Pals,” Galena answered, her voice quiet. Or maybe that was just the natural state of her. Quiet and focused.

Somehow that made so much sense.

Two females who clearly knew the cruelty the world had to offer. That knew how it was to be judged by everybody around them…Madja had helped heal Clotho and maybe even her niece, so of course, she would have introduced them.

He imagined that only somebody that had similar scars could truly understand how it was to live with the everyday.

For just one moment, Cassian wondered what had happened to Galena.

What had resulted in the scars covering her face and her neck and her hands…what had resulted in a leg that was so destroyed that even agic couldn’t heal it anymore and she was stuck using a cane.

When had it happened? How had it happened?

Was the story as disgusting as the one how Azriel had gained the scars on his hands? Half-brothers out for blood and doing an experience of how oil and fire mixed?

The scars looked similar for both of them, like skin and fat and muscles, had been melted away by the flickering of flames.

Even to this day, Cassian knew how much Azriel hated fire.

He was never obvious about it of course, but he had oftentimes found his staring in flames happily flickering in the oven and having an expression on his face that…well.

He imagined if somebody had felt the full brunt of flames, then one would be hesitant to get near them. Regardless of how much one needed to.

He pulled back the hand that he had kept on his brother’s shoulder, breathing now deep and even and turned to watch Galena do her work.

She was looking at Azriel, an unreadable expression on her face, one hand hovering over Azriel’s arm, nearly glowing…

And then it cut off sharply and she stared at Azriel, shaking her head.

“I need…a comparison,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes snapping up at him. “Can I cast a diagnostic on you, General?” she asked him suddenly.

“Yes, of course,” he agreed immediately. “Whatever he needs.”

Ice and Peppermint waved over him for just a few seconds and her eyes narrowed, staring between him and Azriel.

“You need to eat more vegetables,” she told him absentmindedly and he just stared at her. Right. “You lack iron. Preferably spinach or peas or broccoli.”

“I eat enough vegetables,” he disagreed with her and she rolled her good eye, the movement in sharp contrast to the consummate professional she seemed to be most of the time.

Nesta snorted in amusement.

“Does he need Iron too?” he asked her drily and she just shook her head.

“Oh no, he needs other things,” Galena assured him.” “It’s fascinating…It’s different, even when it shouldn’t be different… He’s just as full-blooded illyrian as you are. It should be the same…”

Cassian had no idea what she was speaking of and crossed his arms.

“What shouldn’t be the same?” he asked her tightly.

She waved her hands and suddenly golden runes appeared before him, two rows, beneath each other.

“See this?” she asked, and he stared at the runes. He couldn’t read them, and had never learned that side of magic because Illyrian killing power did not lend itself to this kind of magic at all.

But even he could see that the two rows were different. Similar but not the same…

“The upper one is Azriel, the other one is you, General. Your power levels are obviously similar, and you are similarly trained, but he has a few…interesting points you don’t have,” she said quietly. “He’s just as full-blooded illyrian as you are. It should be the same. But it’s not,” she said with something that must pass as a smile for her. “Older, seemingly. Ancient .”

Ah.

Cassian rubbed his face. “His father was a Lord. Mine was just a random soldier,” Cassian said quietly. “Illyrians breed for magical power…He comes from an older line than I do.”

Family lines were important to Illyrians. He knew that, even when he had never taken any interest in that. Why should he? He was simply a bastard. Az was a bastard as well, but his father had been a Lord of one of the war camps…His family had reigned there…hailed from deeper in the North.

The differences were small but there.

Galena slashed her hands, the runes disappearing. “Older…just as powerful like you…but different. Bigger Wings,” she said thoughtfully. “Which are more powerful, but you have it easier to manoeuvre,” she said thoughtfully, taking in the wings that were spread out underneath Azriel.

He was thankful that she didn’t reach out to touch them. Azriel didn’t like having them touched. He was…touchy about it.

Cassian could understand that. If his wings had been crippeled and bound to his back for over a decade, then maybe he would be touchy about them as well.

“He’s private, isn’t he?” she asked but didn’t seem to actually expect an answer.

“He is,” he answered nonetheless.

“Even now, he’s shielding against me. His magic is pushing mine away,” she said, something akin to amusement and awe in her voice.

“What are you doing?” Nesta suddenly snapped and Cassian stared as Galena unwrapped a roll filled with…implements. Steel implements. Sharp Knives and other things.

“I need some blood,” Galena explained calmly. “Not a lot. One vial should be plenty,” she promised. “I’ll make a cut on his arm, get the blood and then heal it.”

The idea of anybody sticking a knife in Azriel’s arm right now, when he was already weak and sick was more than Cassian could think to stomach. He understood that she wanted to see the blood itself, test it for something or other but…

“Do you want me to do it on myself first?” she offered calmly, not seeming hurt in the least by the look of horror on his face.

He opened his mouth to refuse but Nesta was quicker. “Yes.”

Galena didn’t even seem surprised by the request, picking out a sharp knife from the black leather roll and rolling up her sleeve, to show a forearm littered with scars. She didn’t flinch as she cut a short line into her skin, waiting until bright ruby red blood was beading at it and then caught her blood into a vial. She waited calmly until it was filled to two-thirds and then covered the wound with her hand, for one moment glowing.

As she pulled back the skin looked exactly the same as it had before.

“I can easily see the big problems with a diagnostic but if I want to fine-tune something it’s easier to see on blood,” she said calmly, cleaning up her knife with a rag and some kind of solution, before she dropped it into another pouch.

“Alright,” Cassian agreed.

Just as promised, quick and easy, Galena had one vial of Azriel’s blood and that was it.

He could feel her magic welling deep as she checked the blood over, surprise and shock coming over her face. The vial glowed nearly silver in her grasp.

She cast a second time. Then a third. Checking the results she had gotten the first time.

“What are you getting?”

“My own magic infused in his blood,” she answered, brows pulling together. “That doesn’t…” she uttered under her breath staring at Azriel and then back at the vial of blood.

She shook her head, clearly calming her thoughts, as she did something else to the vial, watching it carefully.

“Oh,” she muttered in surprise.

“What?” Nesta demanded sharply.

“His blood is filled with a laundry list of Potion ingredients,” Galena answered honestly. “Poppy, lavender, absinth, mirthroot…Madja gave him a Cough Draught and a Fever Reducer. She did not give him even a third of what I am getting from him.”

He could just stare at her.

What?

“Is he on any medication?” she asked him.

“Not that I am aware of,” Cassian answered honestly. “Madja hasn’t given him anything but a Bruise Balm and a Pain Relief Potion in months.”

Nothing that would explain so much different medication.

“It’s no wonder that we can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. Every diagnostic goes haywire because there is too much in his blood to figure out what the actual problem even is,” Galena said darkly. “I don’t know a single potion that uses everything that I am getting from his blood. Half of them would never be used together anyway, either they cancel each other out or they wouldn’t work well together at all,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Is it a poison?” Nesta asked immediately, but Galena made a so-so gesture with her hand.

“If you are asking if somebody fed him this combination to make him sick, they did a piss poor job at purposefully poisoning him,” she answered drily. “They are better-working poisons that would be easier to procure than whatever he ingested that resulted in…this.”

She sighed for a moment, watching Azriel for a moment.

“What are we going to do now?” he asked her. “Can we give him an anti-dote?” he demanded. Something? They needed to do something! They couldn’t just…

“I am going to cast another diagnostic on him,” Galena said, her voice decisive. “It’s going to go…deeper in a sense. We’ll see if he even lets me in,” she explained.

“What if he doesn’t?” Cassian dared to ask and Galena turned her head to look at him, the full brunt of these horrible scars turned towards him.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to that,” Galena told him evenly. He just nodded.

“Is it going to hurt him?” Nesta wanted to know but Galena shook her head.

“It’s invasive, but not outright painful,” she admitted. “Madja has often cast them on me,” she explained. “We don’t normally use them, because they strip away every bit of privacy you have about your own body,” she admitted. “But I need to know what he has ingested to result in this mixture in his blood.”

Quite frankly by now, Cassian was desperate enough that he didn’t fucking care as long as she found out what was wrong with Azriel.

Galena’s magic thickened. He had no other explanation for it.

Thickened and stretched and tightened…locked into a battle of wills with Azriel.

He could just stare at her, the sharp set of her jaw as she clearly did her best to bend Azriel’s magic to her will.

Cassian didn’t actually believe that she was going to manage it. Azriel was the most stubborn male he had ever met. If Azriel didn’t want something, then it wasn’t going to happen. He had fully well-expected Galena to need to give up, because Azriel, even in his unconscious state, wasn’t having it.

He could feel the deep well of ice in his brother’s magic suddenly, could nearly taste the cobalt blue power even without the use of siphons.

He carefully monitored the situation, ready to throw himself in the fray at a second notice if Azriel’s killing power decided to get rid of the poor healer who only tried to help him.

A sharp surge of something, and between one blink and the next, he could feel the very foundation of the House of Wind shudder as he had only felt it when Rhys was in residence.

This was…

He stared at the two figures, magic swirling around them, Galena nearly glowing with something…

And then something cracked, sharp and fierce and suddenly, his brother caved in, his magic bursting out to pull Galena’s magic into its embrace, shadows seemingly bleeding out of Azriel’s tattoos, swirling around him…swirling around Galena.

The magic settled. And Cassian watched wide-eyed, in shock and terror, as the tendrils of shadows wrapped themselves around the scarred hands of the healer.

There you are.

Their voice was beautiful and horrible all at the same time, the voice of many in the voice of one…echoing across the walls, and into the rooms.

Not once before in over 500 years, had Cassian ever heard the shadows talk. They talked to Azriel, they whispered their secrets to him. But they had never talked aloud.

He was quite sure that he must have lost every bit of colour in his face as he watched the shadows crawl their way across Galena, trail over every bit of skin they could reach, over delicate wrists and her neck, over her cheekbones, dusting themselves over her nose and her lips…

He had only seen them do that to torture people. And then it hadn't been done with this kind of delicate touch, like they tried to remember every second of this touch.

Master needs help.

#acotar fanfiction #my writing #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic

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