#i live again i had a complicated week

[vulpinemagic]

As a fighter, Akemi displays a preference for long-range combat. Her spells usually feature wave after wave of bullets fired at unconventional angles and constantly changing speeds in order to confuse and overwhelm her enemies while she usually remains stationary. A classic sorcerer type.

She says that she does that in order to concentrate on her spells and make them more organized and complex, but the truth is that she's kind of a couch potato and doesn't like to move around a lot.

[bi-the-wei]

I am slowly but surely still working on this redraw. Lol. SO many flowers. X_X I've been a bit stressed lately. Just residual stuff from grief and complicated emotions from the beginning of this year kinda hitting its second wind. Also my clipstudio decided randomly to undo ALL of the organization I spent like 2 hours doing to my brushes and I got mad so I haven't drawn much at home. And my work has been busy because it's the end of the fiscal year so I haven't had enough time there to draw much of anything other than my ghosties (that I'm posting on @boos-day). BUT the end of the fiscal is done and I'm slowly getting back to.. mmm well as close to normal as I'm gonna get for a while yet (healing is a process yo!) so I'm gonna try to draw some more again soon. <3

ANYWAY yeah. Here's a WIP that I'm

[finagled]

hey like???

why is life so difficult? why are things so asinine?

inefficient?

unethical?

why???????????????? is it like this

right now

[youngks-smile]

What I Want You To Know About Long COVID

Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.

Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.

COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.

Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).

There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.

So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.

COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.

The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".

Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."

There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.

You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.

I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.

This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.

Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.

Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.

Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.

Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.

Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.

Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.

And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.

Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.

I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.

[fratboykate]

I'm totally in support of the writers in theory but I'm trying to understand more of what you're fighting for because I've seen some people on twitter claim writers make more money a week than most of us make in a month so I'm trying to understand what the issue is. Also if that info is accurate. This is a genuine question. Not trying to have a "gotcha moment". I really want to hear from a writer.

people have always had wild misconceptions about how much a writer earns because of their lack of understanding of how the industry actually works. there's so many posts about how "you guys make 5k a week. what more do you want?!" yeah...let's do some math on that.

5k a week for 14 weeks (and that's a long room. a lot of rooms these days are 8-10 weeks. those are the dreaded mini-rooms we're trying to kill) is $70,000. for roughly three months of work. you'd think we're cooking with gas...BUT HOLD UP. that's gross! let's see everything that has to come out of that check:

10% to our agent

10% to our manager

5% to our entertainment attorney

5% to our business manager (not everyone has one but a lot of us do. i do, so that's literally 30% immediately off the top of every check)

most of these breakdowns ive seen downplay taxes severely. someone made one that says writers pay 5% in taxes and i would like to ask them "in what universe?". that doesn't even cover state taxes. the way taxes work in the industry is really complicated, but the short of it is most of us have companies for tax reasons so we aren't taxed like people on w2s/1099. if we did we'd be even more fucked. basically every production hires a writer's company instead of the writer as an individual. so they engage our companies for our services and then at the end of the year we (the company) pay taxes as corporations or llcs (depending on what the writer chose to go with). my company is registered as a "corporation" so let's go with those rates. california's corporate rate is 9% and the federal corporate tax rate is 21%. there's other expenses with running a business like fees and other shit so my business managers/accountants/bookkeepers have recommended i save between 35-40% of everything i make for when tax season comes.

you see where the math is at already??? 25-30% in commissions and then 35-40% in taxes. on the lower end you're at THE VERY LEAST looking at 60% of that check gone. 70% worst case scenario. suddenly those $70,000 people claim we make are actually down to $28,000 as the take home pay. and that's if you're only losing 60%. it goes down to $21,000 if it's 70%.

lets pretend you worked a long 14 week room (that's the longest room ive ever worked btw) and let's also be generous and say you only have 60% in expenses so the take home is $28,000. average rent in los angeles is around $2,800-$3,000. if you're paying $2,800 in rent that means you need AT LEAST $4,000 a month to have a semi decent life since you need to also cover groceries, gas, medical expenses, toiletries, phone, internet, utilities, rental and car insurances, car payments, student loan payments, etc etc etc. and again, this is los angeles. everything is more expensive so you're living BARE BONES on 4k. and these are numbers as a single person. im not even taking having children into account. so those $28,000 you take home might cover your life for 6-7 months. 3 of which you're in the room working. the reality is that once that room ends, you might not work in a room again for 6-9-12 months (i have friends whose last jobs were over 18 months ago) and you now only have about 3 months left of savings to hold you over. we have to make that money stretch while we do all the endless free development we do for studios and until we get our next paying job. so...3 months left of enough money to cover your expenses -> possible 9 months of not having a job. this is how writers end up on food stamps or applying to work at target.

this is why we're fighting for better rates and better residuals. residuals were a thing writers used to rely on to get them through the unemployment periods. residual checks have gone down from 20k to $0.03 cents. im not joking.

they've decimated our regular pay and then destroyed residuals. we have nothing left. so don't believe it when they tell you writers are being greedy. writers are simply fighting to be able to make a middle class living. we're not asking them to become poor for our sake. we're asking for raises that amount to 2% of their profit. TWO PERCENT. this is a fight for writing even being a career in five years instead of something you do on the side while you work retail to pay your bills. if you think shows are bad now imagine when your writer has to do it as a hobby because they need a real job to pay their bills and support a family. (which none of us can currently afford to have btw)

support writers. stop being bootlickers for billion dollar corporations. stop caring about fictional people more than you care about the real people that write them. if we don't win this fight it truly is game over. the industry as you know it is gone.

[writing-fanics]

More Than Anything

Lucifer Morningstar x F!Reader

[summary: final battle lives lost but the show must go on!]

Masterlist > chapter I > chapter ii > chapter iii > chapter iv

[a/n: since it’s technically been a month Lucifer and Y/n’s relationship has blossomed but not into a romantic one just yet. Just maybe the occasional flirting but I will have flashbacks to moments to have it not feel rushed.]

[also y/n likes making cursed animal combinations like a dolphin with wings.. being in hell for a month has brought her out of her shell so much she’s much happier. also the reader is whatever height you are, but to me she's slightly taller than Lucifer. sorry if this seems rushed.. its alot of work y/n trained with vaggie in weapon combat. she also kinda had help from lucifer. if ya'll want I'll write another side chapter about what lucifer and her did in combat..]

word count: 3,789 {6-7 pages)

[warning: major spoilers for episode 7-8: mentions of sex: slight smut in the end (full poorly written smut in side chapter): death spoilers:

song

[Y/n] helped prepare the hotel while Charlie and Vaggie were out, she still couldn't help but think that if it all were to end tomorrow. Should she confess her feelings to Lucifer. She tried but failed weeks ago, and now with extermination day being 24 hours away. But even then would it even matter, if she did? If they were going to die what's the point? But then..

"Ugh, why do feelings have to be so complicated?!" She groaned to herself, as she helped fortify the hotel. In her own thoughts. Yet, she remembered how awkward Lucifer was acting this morning when they were eating breakfast. It could've been because of extermination day in the next 24 hours or maybe something else?

"A-Are you okay?" She asked worriedly, at Lucifer. Who scoffed in response and smiled nervously, "Y-Yeah, I'm alright fine perfectly fine." He sweats, as he looked at her nervously.

He watched as she left the manor to go help his daughter and the hotel prepare, and cursed to himself.. God, he was absolutely infatuated with her and couldn't even confess his feelings, for her. What if she dies? No don't think that he couldn't even bare the thought of losing her again.

He reached into his pocket and revealed the rubber duck with butterfly wings, and started at it softly.

[ Flashback ]

[Y/n] bit down on her lower lip, as she tried to make her first rubber duck. Squinting her eyes as she tried, to attach some butterfly wings. She smiled, jumping out of her chair in her guest room and ran down the hallway. She bursts into the room,“Lu, I did it!” She exclaimed, holding the rubber duck in her hands. Flapping its wings occasionally lifting itself off the palm of her hand. Flapping its wings.

“Wow, you did an even better job than me.” He said, causing her to blush. But shaking her head, “Nah, yours are way better.” She said, smiling looking at him.

She looked down at the rubber duck nervously, the extermination was only a few days away and people were preparing for a bloodbath a massacre, an all out war.

“I-I..” She sighed and downcasted at the ground, before shaking her head and smiled. “I made caramel apple pancakes.” She said, smile and Lucifer’s eyes lit up.

“Why didn’t you just say so!” He exclaimed, before she knew it he was already out the door of his study. Towards the delicious caramel apple pancakes.

She smiled sadly, looking down at the rubber duck. Pressing the secret button on its wing. “I love you!” It said its robotic child like voice exclaimed, and she looked down sadly. “I feel butterflies in my stomach when I’m with you,” she clenched her fist, almost crushing the duck but stopped. Looking at it sadly, “I really am pathetic.” she sighed, she walked over towards the shelf.

That had a rubber duck with similar top hat, to that of Lucifer and hesitantly placed it beside it. On the shelf, before backing away and leaving going downstairs to eat breakfast with Lucifer.

- ——

Lucifer entered his study after [Y/n] had left, to help prepare for war being a recently fallen angel and all. He sat at his desk, he glanced over at the shelf. Noticing a new rubber duck, figuring she must’ve placed it there.

He admired it in awe, the translucent butterfly wings. He remembered how much she loves butterflies, he remembered when she joked about combining the two. A Duckerfly. A duck with wings. Even then she was absolutely adorable, her jokes always seemed to make him laugh.

He titled his head noticing a hidden button on its wings, pressing it curiously. “I’m a duck with wings!” The duck said, and he chuckled.

“Duckerfly!”

“I love you!”

He stopped for a moment, processing what the duck had just said. Pressing the button again, “I get butterflies when I’m with you,” His heart seemed to skip a beat, he pressed it again.. and again and again. Until it looped back to it saying, ‘I love you.’

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

[Y/n] smiled as she returned the hug, wrapping her arms around Charlie. “Thank you for everything,” thanked Charlie, looking up at the older woman smiling. "Ever since I was little," She said, looking up at her, "The stories, my dad used to tell me about you inspired me." and the older woman, looked at her and smiled her heart swelling with joy.

She chuckled softly, "When I was in heaven, I thought he'd forgotten about me." said [Y/n], her gaze soften as she reminisced of memories of the past. "Seems, it was quite the opposite who could've thought he'd tell stories of me to his own daughter." She said, smiling as she took Charlie by both hands.

She looked down at her, "You're like the child I've always wanted but never had," She said, the princess of hell couldn't help but chuckle, reminding her of the weird rivalry both her father and Alastor had.

"But, I'm not trying to replace your mother." She reiterated, "Not at all, I just want you to know. That I'm always here for you." She said, looking at her. Charlie pulled back from the hug, "I can see why my dad likes you so much," said Charlie, causing the woman in front of her cheeks to go red.

"Ah...Um.." She mumbled, but Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled, "It's okay, I think the two of you would be cute together." said Charlie, smiling. Even though she missed her mom Lilith, and that her dad might still possibly miss her. She couldn't help but notice even though on the small instances, her and her dad have spoke before all this.

She could see how happy he was having [Y/n] here, in Hell. She noticed the occasional flirting. Yes, it might sound weird but she loved seeing her dad happy more than anything. "U-Um, thank you." stammered [Y/n].

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

[Y/n]'s eyes widened as the force-shield shattered, but she snapped back as an exorcists attacked her and she could've sworn, she heard her shout traitor. She made quick use of her weapon, and ended the exorcists life by cutting off her head.

Patches of her clothes covered in yellow ichor, a tiny cut on her cheek she sustained when fighting an exorcists. But slowly, everything seemed to go downhill as the one who was supposed to take care of Adam. Alastor had suddenly disappeared leaving Charlie to fear the worst.

[Y/n]'s eyes widened in horror as Sir Pentious' airship was destroyed, right before everyone's eyes. "No!" Charlie wailed, as tears brimmed her eyes in shock. She'd barely gotten to know Sir Pentious, in the month she was in Hell.

But, he seemed like a good person who genuinely wanted to redeem himself. Who gave trust to his friends. and in the end made the ultimate sacrifice. Gripping the weapon tightly in her hands, she charged towards Adam.

Almost impaling him, but he dodged out of the way. "Why look who it is?" He said, looking down at her mockingly. She glared at him, "Why isn't it little miss traitor." He said, and she snarled gritting her teeth as she lunged towards him, but he laughed and dodge.

"Wow, you look even worse than you did in Heaven." He mocked, and she pursed her lips eyes filled with rage. As she dodged his attacks, "Says the arrogant bastard who let himself go after Eden," She spat, and he glared at her sending a beam that almost hit her.

But wasn't so lucky about the next one, causing her to groan in pain. "Wow, you really suck at this don't you." He laughed, god she wanted to rip out his fucking tongue. "Do you ever stop fucking talking?!" She shouted, angrily.

Adam dodged her attacks as she sent them his way. Swiftly flying out of the way angering her, as her eyes started glowing as she swings at him with the angelic weapon. She glared at him angrily, “All this for a dick you can’t suck!” shouted Adam, and she glared at him angrily. Gritting her teeth, “Ugh! Fuck you.” she spat. Missing him once again.

“You really are pathetic you know that?” He laughed. Before she could even react a yellow beam, struck her already bleeding side. Gold ichor dripping from the wound, her movement faltering, "S-Shut the fuck up!" She shouted angrily, but a blast sent her flying backwards. Causing her to crash into, the hotel knocking her unconscious.

“Y/n!” Charlie shouted, watching as she plummet to the ground. But she didn’t, and felt a pair of arms wrap around her holding her, she looked up and smiled. She quickly wrapped her arms around him, “Lu,” She whispered.

Then her eyes widened, “Please tell me you didn’t hear that.” She looked embarrassed, cheeks red. Lucifer cocked his head to the side,“Not all of it just the, a dick you can’t suck part.” He said, her cheeks bright red. How she wanted to curl up into a ball and hide in a cave.

She pursed her lips inward and groaned, “I would kiss you now-” Her cheeks turned red, as a tomato as he said that. Even more so as he looked down at her with a mischievous grin, “But, we can do that later.” He said, a grin on his face then turning to are at Adam.

Glaring at him as well as she pulled away from Lucifer, “I’ll take you up on that offer, but first.” She clicked her tongue, gripping her weapon as she glared at Adam.

Seething her teeth, as she gripped the weapon tightly. “Let’s get this fucker.” She spat, with swift speed flying off towards the angel.

Lucifer smiled watching as she flew off, “That’s my girl,” He smiled, as the two of them flew off towards Adam. Following after her, the look of anger on his face seeing his daughter in danger.

Lucifer cackled as he looks down at Adam, dodging his attacks."So, this is what you've been up to since Eden?" said Lucifer, a he flew around him."Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy." He said, as he transformed into a snake. Adam grabbing him by the tail, and trying to throw him. But before he could Lucifer transforms into a duck. "You judgin' me? You're the most hated being in all of creations." Adam shouted, angrily at him.

"Well, your first wife didn't seem to hate what I had to offer." said Lucifer, using his fingers to make a 'V' shape bringing it to his lips. "or the second. Bow-chicka-wow-wow." said Lucifer, as he makes a thrusting motion in the air. Angering Adam, "I'll fucking end you!!" Adam shouted, as he chased after Lucifer.

[Y/n] flew up towards them, she laughed mischievously, as she transformed into different animals. Teasing him, “For someone who calls himself dick master, your own wives didn’t even want yours!” She laughed, grinning as you transformed into a dolphin with wings.

She slapped him using the tail across the face. Smiling mischievously, “Ugh! You bitch!” He shouted, angrily trying to grab her but she ducked. Flying away swiftly.

“The bully gets bullied,” She cackled, making faces at him before disappearing in a poof of yellow clouds. She giggled, as Lucifer took her by the hand. And the two of took pride in dancing to dodge, Adam’s attacks. “Oh, can’t catch us..” The two of them teased.

“That duck you left me,” He said, as the two of you disappeared from Adam, dodging his attacks. Her cheeks turned red as she looked at him, “I love you too,” He said, and her heart swelled with joy. Really was he saying this now?!

Adam gagged in disgust, “Stop moving you freaks!” Adam shouted, causing the king of hell to shake his head, “Hey, I’m trying to confess my love over here!” shouted Lucifer, causing her cheeks to turn even redder. Adam growing angrier, as he glared at them.

Adam groaned in anger, as he sent a beam of yellow ichor towards them. But Lucifer holding [Y/n] close protectively, as he swiftly pulled her out of the way. “Charlie!” She shouted worriedly, and swiftly as she said that Lucifer was off towards his daughter.

[ slight time skip ]

[Y/n] placed her hand on her bleeding side, as she stood up to her feet. Glaring at Adam as she stood beside everyone else, "You don't get to end this." Adam said, as he stood to his feet weakly. Climbing out of the hole, "I'm fucking Adam! I'm the fucking man," He shouted, looking at the sinners and demons in front of him, "and you're just some fucking clown or something." He spat, glaring at them.

"I started everything on Earth." He shouted, rambling. "All of mankind came from theses fucking nuts." He shouted, staring at them. While they just stood their listening to his tantrum, "You all should be worshipping me." He screamed.

"you ungrateful, disgusting fucking losers!" He shouted,Adam wails, and everyone stars at him in shock seeing the dagger protruding from his stomach. "Hey, you got something sticking out of your..your thing there." said Lucifer, pointing nonchalantly at the dagger sticking out of his stomach.

Adam fell forward, revealing Niffty holding the blade in her hands. "Niffty?" Charlie said in shock. Niffty sat there for a moment before, "Stab! Stab! Stab!" Niffty shouted, as she laughed manically. As she continued to stab him repeatedly. "Blood! ha ha ha!" She laughed, a crazed look in her eyes.

Lute screamed, as she rushed towards Adam turning him over as he died. Crying over her friend and leader, who sent her a final smile before dying. "It's over," Charlie and [Y/n], said glaring down at Lute.

"Take your little friends," said Lucifer, as he glared at Lute angrily in his demon form, "and go home." He shouted, is voice distorted and demonic. "Please.!" He asked, relaxed and calm yet with a sinister tone to his voice. Everyone watched, as the exorcists retreated back to heaven.

Lucifer sighed and turned back towards everyone, "Alright who wants some pancakes." asked Lucifer, as he wrapped an arm around [Y/n]'s waist. "This lovely lady right here makes some delicious, caramel apple pancakes." He said, a huge grin on his face. She smiled sheepishly, as she looked at everyone. Niffty raised her hand. "But first, I need to get this bandaged." She said, looking at the others smiling softly as she pointed at the wound.

She winced in pain as she climbed, over the rubble. “I’m okay,” She smiled, looking at Lucifer. She looked over towards Charlie, as she stared at the destroyed hotel. Everyone looked at her sadly, as she stared at the destruction and bloodshed that the war had caused. Holding KeeKee in her arms, she looked down at the banner they had made for Sir Pentious month's ago. Tears welled up in Charlie's eyes, realizing the ultimate sacrifice.

"He did it for us, the ultimate sacrifice," Charlie sang, as she choked back a sob. Vaggie placed her hand on her shoulder, "He gave me his trust, and look how we pay the price," She sang, as she walked away. She looked around at the cranage and destruction, "This bloodshed could have been avoided." She sang sadly, even though they won. She felt as if in a way it was all for nothing with the lives that were lost, "If I convinced Heaven to work together," She sang, tearfully.

She walked over towards the ledge, revealing the destroyed Hazbin Hotel and what remains, "I took a hotel and I destroyed it," She sang sadly, seeing the damage she couldn't help but blame herself for, "I know I could have done better." She sang, as she hugged her self tears welling up in her eyes, as she fell to her knees. "Better, instead of letting you down," She sang, looking down at the ground.

 'Come on little lady, why the frown?' Lucifer sang, as he looked down at his daughter, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'In the last ten-thousand years. You're the first one to change this town' He sang, standing up on his feet getting in front of her, 'You can do this, now I know it!' He sang, placing his hand underneath Charlie's chin. 'For your story has just begun'

"You can't quit now, hell, you owe it," [Y/n] sang, as she smiled at Charlie warmly, "There's still damage to be undone," sang Lucifer, as he smiled at his daughter.

"You've changed my mind," He sang.

"You've touched their hearts." sang [Y/n].

"Found the good in souls gone bad"

"The stage is wrecked, the crowd is gone,"

Lucifer looked at his daughter triumphantly, and sang."But by God, Charlie!" [Y/n]wrapped an arm around her, "The show, it must go on" Lucifer and [Y/n] sang, Charlie looked up towards her friends.

“We can do this!” Charlie’s friends sang, as they looked down at her smiling comforting her, making the best of the situation. “We can build it!” everyone sang, smiling at her.

‘Best hotel that you’ve ever seen!’

‘Twice the bedrooms’

‘We can fill it’

“With more sinners than you can dream,” Lucifer sang, as he wrapped an arm around [Y/n]’s waist, a slight tint of red appearing on her cheeks. “It starts with you, you know, it's true.” They sang, as they looked down at her smiling. Hopeful despite the hotel being destroyed, despite the sinners lost.

“Fulfill your destiny!” Charlie looked at her friend, and wiped away her tears and smiled looking at them. “So long as I've got all of you with me!” Charlie smiled, as she wrapped her arms around them.

[Y/n] spreads her wings and smiles, as she flies around. Helping everyone work on rebuilding the hotel. From scratch to be grander than ever. As she sang to help rebuild the hotel she, still couldn’t believe that he loved her back. Almost feeling like a dream that he told her he loved her back. Her heart still skipping a beat, as a wave of relief seemed to wash away.

After a seemingly endless period of wallowing in self-pity, she had finally found happiness with him. With him by her side, she was filled with a sense of anticipation for what was to come in the future.

Suddenly, he scooped her up in his arms like a bride, and she let out a yelp of surprise. As he leaned down towards her, she felt his lips against hers, and a soft gasp escaped her. Her body tensed up in response as her heart began to pound against her chest, overcome with a mixture of nervousness and relief. Her eyes slowly fluttering shut as she melted into the kiss. Wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning more into the kiss.

He whispered into her ear, causing her to shudder and turn beet red. Despite her flustered demeanor, he couldn't help but chuckle softly. Furrowing her eyebrows as she looked at him, and playfully leapt out of his arms.

Transforming into a duck with butterfly wings, and flying off. Lucifer chasing after her, as she switched between each forms giggling, as they continued to help rebuild the hotel. She smiled, as magic flew through her fingers butterflies flew around the hotel glowing with yellow ichor.

Everyone stood at the portrait of Sir Pentious, memorial saluting the great general who sacrifed himself for his friends. “We can do this,” everyone sang, as they stared at the portrait mourning the loss. But a smile on their face, knowing that his sacrifice guaranteed them a better and hopeful future towards redeeming sinner.

“We can do this,” Charlie sang, as she stared at the “We'll be better,” everyone sang smiling, as they remembered Sir Pentious. Saluting their fallen friend.

“We'll be better,”

‘Though redemption may take a while’

“Though it may take a while,” Charlie sang, smiling as [Y/n] placed her hand in her shoulder.

‘Wayward sinners, clear their ledger’

‘And we're doing it with a smile’ Alastor sang, as he appeared between them. Charlie’s eyes lighting up smiling, as she hugged him. “Yeah!” everyone except Lucifer, smiled as they looked towards Alastor.

‘We made a difference, wait and see’

‘We're gonna do this, you and me.’ Charlie and Vaggie sang, as they hugged eachother.

As they walked out towards the courtyard with a hopeful smile. [Y/n] smiled as Lucifer took her hand into his squeezing, she looked down at him and smiled. Fireworks lit up the red sky of hell, as they looked at the newly rebuilt Hazbin Hotel.

Lucifer used his magic shrinking the key, and handing it to Charlie. Who smiled looking at the hotel, “And then tomorrow, it will be a fuckin’ happy day in Hell!” They all sang, as they looked at the newly completed and rebuilt grander than ever. Hazbin Hotel.

[side chapter sneak peek]

Lucifer and [Y/n}, had left suddenly after saying goodbye to Charlie and everyone saying they needed some. "rest" But Angel knew all to well, he saw right past through it. "Yeah, they're about to fuck." Angel said, earning a groan of disgust from everyone. In particularly, Charlie. "Ew, that's my dad." said Charlie, in disgust looking up at Angel Dust.

"What? It's pretty obvious!" He exclaimed, folding his arms across his chest. Before looking off in the distance curiously, "I wonder what kind of kink the Short King is into." He wondered curiously, he took notice of the apples.

Charlie covered her ears, while everyone started walking off. "He's definitely into food play, whipped cream and apples." Angel continued, and "Lala! I can't hear you!" Charlie shouted, as she walked off. "Hey, Charlie give me Y/n's number so I can ask!" He shouted, running after her, "No!" shouted Charlie, as she walked towards the hotel.

"Aw, come one I need to know!" Angel shouted, chasing after Charlie.

meanwhile.. in lucifer's room{ya'll will get the actual smut later so rn its the morning after}

Lucifer's eyes fluttered open and he was met with the most wonderous sight, of [Y/n] and her crinkled up nose as she slept letting out the occasional snore. He smiled softly, as he brushed his fingers against her cheek causing her to smile. His heart seemed to flutter, how did he get so lucky?

"Aw, Lucifer." She said playfully, looking at him as he attacked her neck with kisses, "I've gotta make breakfast." She said, and he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. "Mm, not yet." He said, as he pulled her underneath the covers. She was in for a long morning.

a/n: no y/n didn't know that Lilith was in heaven im not kidding. She had no idea, but with her coming into play for season 2. There will def be some drama stirring, if she's a villian or not.

also lemme know if theres any gaps so i can go back and fix them.

taglist: @supernerdycookietrashblrr @96jnie @mit-suri @koji-akeme @dinawss @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @wanderlustingcastaway @only-cherry-blossom @runaway-expert @buubsii @darkknightsandredrobins @kokoneai5 @colletepop @asheitoshin @thesimppotato11 @cherry-4200 @jolynetodd @blaire-blake @thedarkkitten @astrxwitch

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[beomcoups]

F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 

“I know.” 

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

[ybklix]

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg

★ lee felix

✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / idol!felix / felix x fem reader / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol

word count: 5.1k

one shoot (masterlist)

♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡

a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!

There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”

You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.

There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.

Life was going greate for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.

They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.

A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.

So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.

You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.

“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”

Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.

You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.

“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.

The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.

But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.

“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.

You nodded, confused, he went on to say:

“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.

You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.

You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.

All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.

Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.

Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.

But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.

You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.

You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.

You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.

“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.

You saw them, they looked totally lost.

“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.

“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.

You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.

Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.

He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.

The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.

But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.

You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.

“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”

“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”

Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.

“After party, with who?”

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.

“Well, who are you working for.”

Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.

You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.

“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”

“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.

“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.

“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.

“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.

You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.

You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.

“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.

It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.

You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.

You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.

Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.

After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.

“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.

You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.

Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.

What was going on?

Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.

So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.

Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.

“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”

Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.

“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.

“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”

Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.

You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.

He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.

“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.

He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.

Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.

He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.

“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.

This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.”

He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.

Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.

Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.

You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.

He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.

So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.

“Use your pretty mouth.”

You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.

Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.

“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”

He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….

You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.

He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.

You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.

“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.

“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.

You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.

“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.

But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.

“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”

And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.

He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.

And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.

“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.

“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”

Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.

“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”

Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.

You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.

Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.

“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”

You tried to nod between gripping your hair.

“Say it.”

“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”

“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”

His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.

Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.

You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.

“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”

You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.

“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”

“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.

You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.

“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.

You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.

[earthtooz]

in which: al haitham gives you something on his birthday.

fluff, gn!reader, quick drabble for this special scholar's birthday ^-^

“As much as I appreciate these… heavy, complicated-sounding books, it’s your birthday, Al Haitham, I’m supposed to be giving you a gift.” You explain as you move all three books under one arm. Did he expect you to finish all of these any time soon? 

Sure you enjoyed reading, but you’re not sure you can classify yourself in the same category as your bookworm-boyfriend who burrows himself in words whenever he can, hence, the intimidation you felt when he placed all of these in your arms.

“Just because you’re ‘supposed’ to give me a gift doesn’t mean I cannot gift one in return.” He counters, rationally and level-headed as ever. “Besides, you accepting these makes me satisfied with myself, and wouldn’t you say that emotional compensation is a gift in of itself?”

“There is no winning against you.”

He looks content with himself, crossing his annoyingly muscular arms over his chest with a slight smirk. “Looks like I can say ‘no’ to you.”

You roll your eyes at his comment. “Whatever. By the time I’m through with these, my arms will start looking like yours with the weight of these beasts for books.” 

Wordlessly, he takes the pile from you, holding them comfortably with both hands and relieving the strain on you. “Shall I put these down somewhere for you?”

“Just on the coffee table will do.”

Your eyes linger a little longer on the way his muscles contract as he walks around your living room, and it’s as if he can feel your stare when he shouts at you from over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go to Lambad’s Tavern? Everyone else may be at Avidya Forest, but at this rate, we’ll be the last ones.” 

“I hear you, I hear you,” you murmur, retreating to your bedroom.

***

A week and a half later, you find yourself relaxing with Al Haitham in the comfort of your living room again, your legs on his lap whilst his arms cage you there, a book in his hands. The cover, however, is awfully familiar, and you realise it’s one of the books he gifted you on his birthday that you were at most seven chapters through. Why was he reading it? 

“I left my bookmark in there, did you take it out?” You ask, sitting up. 

The ashen-haired raises a brow at you. “This is my copy.”

“What? Didn’t you get me that on your birthday?”

“I did. I got us both a copy, of the same edition.”

“Why?”

“Remember when you suggested that we should find more hobbies to share? This should be one of them.”

Blinking at him once, twice, three times, you burst out into a fit of giggles, enamoured by the antics of your deceivingly stoic boyfriend. Throwing your arms around his neck, the (smaller) book in your hands hits his shoulder, and you grin up at him. “You can be so silly, Al Haitham.”

Though the hobbies you had in mind looked something more like new activities neither of you had tried before, you're flattered that he wants to include you in something that he loves to indulge himself in.

“Silly? I thought this was a rather reasonable solution.”

He lets you squish his cheeks with one hand, eyes never straying from the contents of his page. You thank your lucky stars that you’re the one who gets to hold him like this, and that you’re the one he wants to read together with- in the most practical manner. “It can be both- it is both.” 

“Are you enjoying it?”

“I am, but maybe you should slow down. You’re already half way through when I’m not even one-eighth of the way.” 

“I’ll wait. We can talk about it when you’re done.”

“Is this new ‘hobby’ a satisfactory gift, Haitham?”

A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Most certainly.” 

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[narcissistshandler]

giving miguel head while he explains complicated concepts of the multiverse. 😳 at first he chuckles when reader requests this, but he starts to struggle and lose track of what he was talking about. his voice becomes more desperate as he tries to explain all this stuff he knows to reader with his talons gripping at his love’s skull and his voice shaking and melting into pretty breathy moans until he can’t think of what he was talking about and instead fucks reader’s throat til he’s an overstimulated, sobbing mess

𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn!reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 blowjob (reader giving), deep throat, slight overstimulation at the end, reader has no gender or genitalia mentioned, a little of blood

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This was in my drafts for two weeks and honestly I don't remember what/how I wrote half of it, but still, this request was delicious

"—Are you listening to me?"

You blinked, seeming to come back to reality and looked into Miguel's judgmental brown eyes.

"I've been speaking Spanish for the last ten minutes," he continued before you had time to speak.

"I am," you insisted. Your first instinct was to lie. The truth was no, you weren't paying the slightest attention to any of all that complicated science and physics coming out of Miguel's mouth, even though from the beginning your focus hadn't left his lips framing every complex and long word, occasionally rising to appreciate that expression of concentration on his usually serious face that shouldn't be so erotic to anyone but you.

Miguel's eyes fell to your lap, as if he could see through the pillow you were holding, his brow immediately frowning in that way that indicated his bad mood.

"So what is the simple concept of what constitutes a Multiverse?" he questioned, sounding so much like a hot, strict teacher that you felt your sex throb in response, too distracted to even try to think of an answer. "What are the ways to overcome the barriers that separate our world from other universes?" Silence. "What happens when there is a divergence in events? Where does the variety of these universes originate?"

You knew the answer to some of these questions as someone who had heard more than enough about this subject: the multiverse was nothing more than the aggregate of parallel realities and bla bla bla. But that wasn't what Miguel wanted to hear, he wanted concise, long and scientifically coherent answers and that's why you preferred to keep your mouth shut.

"You weren't listening," he concluded with a sigh.

"Keep talking, I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel looked into your darkened eyes, noting the warm innuendo in your tone and then once again, his attention fell to the pillow that covered your lap. "You're excited," he observed, then continued seeming disgusted and irritated: "Why? Physics does that to you?"

“You do this to me,” you said. Miguel's expression seemed to become even darker. "You always seem so focused and intelligent while talking about these things I can't understand, it's sexy."

"You were the one who asked me to teach you, I didn't know this was a fantasy of yours," he pointed out.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you asked soflty as you got up from the sofa where you sat next to Miguel and fell to your knees in front of his feet, your hands running up his bare legs until they slid under the hem of his shorts. "Continue teaching me, please? I promise I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel half growled at you, not seeming too willing to indulge in your fantasies even as his legs opened in pure muscle memory to give you room to fit between them and desire flashed in his eyes.

"How are you supposed to pay attention to what I say with my penis in your mouth? That doesn't seem like a very concise teaching method." Even with you kneeling in front of him on the floor of the apartment's living room, Miguel seemed genuinely concerned about teaching you some real knowledge about multiverse.

You rubbed your hand against the bulge in his shorts to bring him to hardness, laughing a little at how genuine Miguel was sometimes.

"You talk, I listen, then you can test me to see if I really learned something or not."

Miguel opened his mouth, looking ready to retort with some argument, but your fingers fitting into the elastic waistband of his shorts was enough to make him swallow back his words. “Okay,” he agreed finally, lifting his hips off the couch to let you pull his shorts down his legs and discard them on the floor.

"Without underwear?" You inquired teasingly, your fingers closing around Miguel's thick cock that was slowly getting hard for you and pulling him into slow, steady thrusts.

Miguel sighed at the sudden touch, a light blush coloring his cheeks at the teasing.

"Back to the beginning," he started to say, ignoring your words. "When we talk about the Multiverse, this refers to a conception of multiple universes or parallel realities existing simultaneously. Together, these universes are presumed to comprise everything that exists: the entirety of space, time, matter, energy..."

Your tongue trailed in a wet line from the base to the head, interrupting Miguel's speech as he trailed off with a soft sigh.

That usual satisfaction made you smile between the licks you dragged along his length, feeling the pulsation of the bulging veins against your tongue, your fingers keeping his dick firm at the base. Your lips parted, gently sucking the side of the bulbous, red head where drops of precum were beginning to leak.

Miguel let out the most beautiful moan, one of his hands falling into your hair.

“Oh,” he sighed softly, voice already falling into that deep tone that always did things to you. You looked up at the same time you slid your tongue over the slit leaking from his cock; Miguel's eyes met yours, warm and shining. He took a deep breath and continued speaking: "In the concept of multiverse, a scheme is imagined in which... all universes aggregate each other across an infinite vastness..."

He looked so composed even with your mouth on his dick and you wanted to break that composure of his until it became nothing, until his mind stopped working and the only coherent thought he had left was fucking your throat.

Miguel doesn't stop talking when your fingers tighten around his length in a grip that borders on painful and your mouth opens so you can take his length. His cock filled your mouth, the warm, smooth skin sliding over your tongue and inward in a delicious, welcome weight that made your skin tingle. Almost instinctively, you searched for more, leaning forward and taking him deeper, your free hand feeling Miguel's thigh muscles tense under your touch.

Saliva pooled in your mouth and as soon as you pulled your head back, spit slid down his length to his heavy balls and a wet line ran down your chin, a mess you knew Miguel liked. As expected, his breathing stuttered and you saw him losing his train of thought at the sight of your saliva-glossy lips stretching around the thickness of his dick.

"...In addition to the state superpos- superposition property, there are many other phenomena that occur as quantum-scale systems, such as quantum tunneling, quantum e-entanglement..."

The firm fingers tangled in the strands of your hair suddenly became sharper, like thick needles scratching your scalp. The threat of the grab hung in the air, filling your stomach with a tense heat as you realized they were Miguel's deadly talons, which could penetrate through the fragility of your skin in seconds and even an accidental scratch could draw blood. This realization shook you to the core and a moan rose in your throat.

"... So you can connect gravity and the other three forces in an apparently firm way?" he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Dios mío."

It took you a few seconds to understand the jumbled words that came out of his mouth, but when you did you knew that you had achieved your objective, as the argument didn't seem to fit into any part of the multiverse theory.

Tears blocked the corners of your vision, jaw opening wider to take Miguel's cock deeper, the tip slapping against your cheek and tongue before going deeper, and then more and more. The salty taste of precum, sweat, and something else you could only describe as Miguel's taste rising in the back of your throat, clouding all your senses and pushing away the urgency burning between your legs. All that mattered was Miguel.

At that moment, your entire world was just Miguel's body contracting on the couch under the heat of your mouth, the heavy leg he had thrown over your shoulder and his heel digging into your shoulder blade in an attempt to bring you impossibly closer. There was a distinct feeling of discomfort growing in your body, Miguel's grip was strong and painful, his rationality seemed to have dissolved under the pleasure.

"[n-name] [name] [name] [name], por favor." The beautiful moans of your name in his voice echoed through the room in repeated, stammered repetitions.

The gag reflex kicked in, the bulbous head of Miguel's cock pressing past the tightness of your throat. Your eyes closed in an attempt to fight the immediate instinct to choke and suffocate, the desire to give Miguel everything he wanted was stronger. You willingly obeyed the grip of the talons on your head keeping you still, your mouth falling open and easy for the deep thrusts.

Resisting him, the urgency with which his hips undulated, as if he needed the pleasure to breathe, felt equal to having at least one pulled muscle and a deep cut left behind.

Fortunately, fighting him was far from your intention.

You could feel as his dick twitched inside your mouth and the thick, salty liquid filled your throat, which rose and fell as you swallowed. Your eyes opened, tears running down your cheeks, you closed your lips around Miguel's pulsing length, sucking. Miguel's reaction was lascivious, his thrusts becoming erratic, whole body shaking violently, his talons sinking at least a few centimeters into your skin, until it breaks under the pressure.

Hot liquid ran down the back of your neck, the pain was a distant thing in your warm body, your fingers digging into the soft skin of Miguel's thighs as you pressed the nose against the curly hair of his groin. Miguel whimpered as his cock continued to spurt small jets deep down your throat, tears glistening in his eyes and fangs sinking into the lower lip.

You had lied again, you hadn't paid attention to anything he said, but it didn't matter since you doubted that Miguel remembered what even was a subatomic particle now.

[marauroon]

hello !!! can i request a right person, wrong time with siri? maybe they broke up because of the war... and the reason is because siri doesn't want to put the reader into danger and then they meet again, all grown up and they still have feelings for each other and Siri has to grovel to win reader back again? And it ends with a happy ending (please) (Siri was the one who broke the relationship and reader was really hurt) it's very long yet vauge 😅

A CALL TO ARMS — S.BLACK

sirius black was the love of your life, and you were his. but sometimes higher priorities—and deep-seeded anxiety—can get in the way. but the invisible string of fate always brings people back together.

cw — fem!reader, details of the first wizard of war, reader and sirius have a messy and complicated relationship, harsh arguments, character death mentions, happy ending

sirius black x reader || hurt/comfort || 6.2k || requests open!!

a/n — let’s just pretend sirius doesn’t get avada’d like three weeks after this fic ends

The war put a strain on everybody. Some people had to leave their families to join the fight, some had to hide away to protect themselves from the Death Eaters.

Some didn’t have a family, anyone to worry about them coming home at the end of the day.

They threw themselves into it the hardest.

Then there was you and Sirius, a pair of outcasts who found solitude in each other. A pair who paid no greater devotion than protecting the people that you cared about from the ravages of Voldemort’s uprising.

You were barely eighteen when you both joined the Order, fresh out of Hogwarts and straight into the line of fire after the group had been offered a spot in Voldemort’s army and refused, leaving every one of you with a target on your back.

By the time you were twenty it almost seemed fruitless, with James and Lily being sent into hiding to protect them and their son under Dumbledore’s direct orders under fear for their continued safety and a Fidelius Charm placed over them to keep them safe. Sirius denied being their secret keeper with the explanation of it being too obvious a choice. What a mistake that was.

Then order members started dying.

And it all began to fall apart.

The brass framed picture in the entrance of the Black family home offered Sirius no empathy as he escaped the bitterness that October was serving him, the laughing faces of his friends and self-proclaimed family only serving to make his already dwindling morale dampen further.

Twenty-two people in the picture. And how many remained? Fourteen. In the span of five months.

It was Dorcus and Marlene that really did him over, and he could barely so much as glance in the direction of their hopeful smiles without feeling like he was going to throw up.

The trudging of his feet up the wooden stairs was proof enough of his arrival for any present members of the Order to hear, too fatigued and all together bleak at the continued state he was living in to announce his presence verbally.

“Sirius, sweetheart, you’re home thank goodness,” Not even the warmth of your arms around him or the relief in your voice as you pulled his head into your shoulder could satiate him anymore.

You shouldn’t have to be relieved that he walked through the door.

You shouldn’t have to hug him like it’s your final goodbye every time he leaves.

Every time you leave.

You didn’t deserve that. And neither did he.

“Godric you’re freezing, come and sit down,” You pull Sirius into his childhood bedroom with all of the care of a feather floating on a pool of water, squeezing his hands in yours like you’re trying to transfer your own heat to him.

He follows you with no real resistance, though he doesn’t make any move by himself, and you have to push his shoulders down to get him to sit in front of the lit fireplace that would hopefully quell the chill echoing across his skin.

You help him remove his coat with a sigh, dark frown lines marking your features as you take a seat beside him and rest the side of your head against his shoulder, your hand gently tracing over his to capture his palm in your own. He doesn’t return the small squeeze of your fingers.

You can’t blame him for being so dismal, the situation was something that nobody could make it through without a gargantuan crack in their emotional shield, but seeing Sirius display his almost funereal sentiment so fervently without so much as a hint of a mask was devastating.

Displaying even the tiniest glimmer of hopefulness was what allowed the Order to survive for so long, and Sirius couldn’t even muster that.

“Harry said his first word today,” You try to keep the conversation positive, ignore the downfall of everything around you and keep focusing on the small wins. “Dada of course, apparently Lily was pretty miffed,” You punctuate your sentence with a small laugh, although it’s more pathetic than genuine and even you can tell you’re doing a horrible job of trying to uplift Sirius’ spirit.

“They sent over a picture, Remus has it if you’d like to see—”

“Just stop.” Sirius shakes his head sharply, pulling his hand from yours and standing with his back to you.

“Sirius—”

“I don’t know why you keep trying to pretend that everything’s okay, it’s not. Our friends are dying and you’re acting like its completely fine.” There’s more malice in his voice than he’s intending, and logically you know that he doesn’t really mean to get so angry at you. It wasn’t you that was the problem, it was the world in which you were living.

But logic can often times get overridden by other facets.

“I am trying to stop anyone else from dying.” Your words are more desperate than harsh, and they’re not laced in anger like Sirius’ are, but they carry just the same amount of conviction. “If we lose hope then we may as well just hand ourselves over…”

There’s a stuttered exhale as you trail off, and Sirius swears he hears your voice crack as you try to take his hand in yours again. “I can’t bear to see you like this…”

“You should leave the Order.”

You’re almost not sure you heard him.

“What?”

“You don’t belong here, you’re not fit for this,” He sounds almost resigned, and his shoulders drop just enough that you’re not sure he really believes what he’s saying. “You should leave before you get hurt.”

There’s a moment where all you can really do is let out a breath of astonishment, and then there’s an overwhelming need to defend yourself against Sirius’ accusation. “I am perfectly fit for this, Dumbledore agreed that—”

“Well I don’t agree with it!” He cuts you off harshly, turning around so that you can see the anguish that’s drenching his features. “People are dying, our friends are dying, and you are on the goddamn list of whose next.”

He takes your upper arms in his hand and shakes you like it’s going to make you see his point, practically shouting at you as he desperately tries to get you to see his point of view. “You are a brilliant witch, and you are in so much danger that it makes me want to rip my heart out so I don’t have to worry about you any more—”

His rant doesn’t stop once his hands halt, and they stay gripped uncomfortably tight around your biceps to the point where you’re sure it’ll bruise. “Dorcus died because she was brilliant, Marlene died because her father was a muggle, you are like the two of them wrapped up in a package practically serving yourself up to the Death Eaters every time you step out of this goddamn house and I cannot take it anymore.”

Sirius practically pants as his yelling comes to a halt, and he almost immediately regrets getting riled up as he sees the reflection of the fireplace in your glassed over eyes.

“I love you. I love you so much and I can’t live like this anymore.” His hands move from your arms to cup the sides of your face, and you flinch at the contact like you’re afraid he’s going to hurt you.

It breaks Sirius’ heart.

“The Order is falling apart love… I don’t want you to be here when it collapses,”

You pull his hands from your face with yours at his wrists, shaking your head as you blink through clouds of tears. “I’m not leaving the Order, Sirius. You really think I would abandon my friends like that? My family? You?”

“Then I’ll make one of the hard choices for you,” Sirius lets his hands fall to his sides on your prompting, taking a step back from you to hide them in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“What—” There’s nothing but absolute betrayal written across your face, and Sirius almost breaks down immediately. “Sirius—”

“If you want to stay here and watch shit hit the fan then be my guest, but I will not put myself through watching your downfall.” He doesn’t give you the courtesy of replying before opening and slamming the door behind him as he leaves, but you’re not sure you’d be able to articulate anything even if he did, your only response being the start of a sob that echoes off of the empty walls and back into your ears to amplify your own anguish.

You move your belongings out of his room that same evening, taking refuge under Remus’ open arms as you cried yourself into an uneasy slumber, so emotionally exhausted that you could barely formulate any sense of coherency.

Lily and James died two days later.

The news hit you like a truck when Dumbledore relayed it to you, and whilst most of the Order were left in a blanket of shock, Sirius took off in a rage before he could even finish his sentence.

It was enough for you to push the grief aside to not cost you any more.

“Sirius wait—” You weave your way through the others and past Dumbledore to rush after him, the first words either of you had spoken in the other’s direction since the argument. “Where on earth do you think you’re going the Death Eaters might still be there—”

“I hope they are.” Sirius’ tone drips with venom as he pulls his motorcycle helmet from the coat rack at the front door, and you just barely catch his wrist before he has the chance to leave.

“You’re going on a suicide mission—”

“They murdered my brother, I have nothing to lose.” He again leaves the conversation with a slammed door, and you don’t know whether the possibility of his death or the fact that he’d seemingly accepted it hurt you more.

He had nothing to lose.

It was the biggest insult he could’ve possibly left you with.

And it’s all he did leave you with.

For twelve years.

You grieved the loss of Sirius like you did James and Lily, like he too had entered into an early grave of which he would never return. Azkaban may as well have been.

You were angry at first, disgustingly loathing the thought of what those twelve poor muggles had to endure as their final moments. You were less empathetic towards Peter’s fate, although your grief for him was replaced with a deep-seeded betrayal that sunk into your muscles all the same.

Then it settled into an uneven weight in the bottom of your chest, something that you carried with you from that point onward.

You moved out of England soon after, with nothing but a silent vow to Remus that if Voldemort were to ever return, that you’d be there, a final standing against the allegiance that stole your life from you.

You couldn’t stay there anymore, every street of London reminded you of him, of them, of all the people that you lost and how the prime years of your young adulthood were unceremoniously ripped from you under the false belief that you could actually make a difference.

As weeks turned into months, and then into years, there were days that passed where you didn’t think of what happened, of how your previous life had fallen apart and left you as a shell of yourself, and eventually, you managed to pick up the pieces and live your life like it hadn’t happened.

Apart from a single shard of your heart that had lodged itself at 12 Grimmauld Place, underneath the black silk sheets you and Sirius once shared.

You were thirty three when a letter from R.J.Lupin was sent through the letterbox of your house, and it was like those twelve years of growth and acceptance disappeared in an instant.

—

‘I hope this letter finds you well, I know I promised to contact you only for something of the upmost urgence regarding the resurgence of you know who, but I believe this is appropriately important.

Wormtail is alive. He was the one who caused those muggles to die without reason. Which leaves no question of Padfoot’s innocence.

I don’t know if you have kept up with the wizarding news, but he escaped from Azkaban, and is in a safe and secure location known only by the Order.

I understand if this news is too much for you to digest, but he has asked me personally for your consideration in returning to the place where everything began.

Yours sincerely,

R.J.Lupin’

—

The aftermath of your reading was a mess of shallow breaths and an elevated heart rate.

Panic.

You hadn’t felt so horrible since the day that James and Lily had died, the day one of your closest friends betrayed you and the love of your life was taken away presumably to never be seen again.

And now he was just out there? You were just adjusting to living without him, and now he was being thrust back into your life by his own doing.

He threw you away right before your house of cards toppled, and now he was trying to worm his way back into your life?

It took you almost three weeks of staring at the sheet of parchment before you made a decision, and it ended with the letter going up in flames and you watching on with a sunken expression, no tears left to cry over the man who’d ruined you.

All of those months where you’d pondered, where you’d asked yourself over and over again what might’ve happened if you’d have just not spoken to Sirius that day, if you’d just let him rest like he’d obviously wanted rather than try pathetically to lift his mood.

If it might’ve meant he would regard you as something to live for and stop him from blindly running off to avenge James and Lily without a second thought.

All of it went straight down the drain. Because you could have him back if you wanted. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to go back and see him again because the minute his name invaded your mind all you could think about was that god awful argument and it’s aftermath.

And it ripped you apart every single time.

—

“She’s not coming Pads…” Remus’ hand on Sirius’ shoulder was almost apprehensive as he gave it a soft squeeze.

It was almost three months of having to watch Sirius treat the front door like it was his lifeline, his head turning at the smallest creak of the wood in the fruitless hope that when it opened you would be on the other side.

“I know…” Sirius lets out a small, pathetic laugh as he rakes his fingers through his hair, his facade of indifference threatening to break with every breath he took. “Can’t blame me for trying though right?” His voice betrays his devastation, tone wavering and quiet, cracking when he tries to push it to sound more convicting.

“Pads…”

“I’m fine,” Sirius shakes his head with a dismissive hand, clearing his throat and blinking away the starts of tears from the corners of his eyes. “I’m gonna go get some sleep, gonna need all I can get if we’re gonna fight these sons of bitches hey?” Sirius nudges Remus with his elbow as he plays a characature of his former self, although it’s poorly executed at best.

“Yeah…” Remus consciously suppresses a sympathetic sigh that tries to escape his mouth, pressing his lips together. “Goodnight Pads,”

“G’night Moony,”

—

There’s eighteen months of radio silence before another letter is slotted through your door, and you have half the mind to burn it on sight when the familiar red seal is left face up on your patio tiling, but the handwriting on the back wasn’t Remus’, and it was definitely not Sirius’ either.

The scrawl of your address was almost unmistakably Dumbledore’s, and you were left in an emotional state of uneven limbo as you debated why he of all people would be personally sending you a letter.

Logically, you already knew the reason, but your brain chose to ignore that logic as you ripped the envelope open, only for that denial to be thrown right back at your face once the seal of the Order inked itself into the folded parchment.

You didn’t even need to read the letter to know what was inside it.

Three words.

Invitatio ad arma.

A call to arms.

You barely remember packing your bags, leaving the sense of normalcy you’d built over the past fourteen years to throw yourself back into the line of fire and more devastatingly, right back to Sirius Black.

The train ride to England almost felt like a fever dream, your body left in a state of dissociation where you couldn’t discern whether your actions were real or just a part of some vivid nightmare that you couldn’t wake from no matter how much you tossed and turned.

And by the time you reached the front door of number 12 Grimmauld Place it felt like you were right back where you started, just barely twenty one thrust into a war that could leave you in your grave at any unfortunate minute.

It felt almost foreign to you as you entered, the hallways that once proved to be your substitute home reduced to unfamiliar sights covered in dust and peeling wallpaper. There was no brass lamps to warm the sight, no picture of your closest friends on the wall, not even the mirror that had been hung beside the door had survived, reduced to a half shattered mess that hadn’t been replaced under higher priorities.

“Oh—” The slightly surprised sentiment draws you away from your almost depressing nostalgia, drawn instead towards an almost perfect capture of teenage James Potter, down to the slanted circular glasses sat over his nose bridge.

It’s enough for you to genuinely consider for a second that you’d actually stepped back in time, right into your graduation year when you were all so young and full of hope.

But it couldn’t be James. As much as your heart desperately wished it was.

“You’re another member of the original Order of the Phoenix right?” The boy takes a few steps towards you, wonder still lingering in his eyes despite the film of knowledge that cloud them. Knowledge of just how unfortunately dark the world actually is. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m—”

”Harry…” Your interruption is barely more than a breath of air as you take in the sight of one of your closest friend’s child, a child that he never got to see grow into an almost perfect replica of himself. “You look just like your father…”

There’s a mix of shock and a small amount of sadness in his expression at your statement, and it’s enough for the glimpses of Lily to shine through in his demeanour. “Thank you,”

It’s enough for your eyes to well with tears, and you blink them away with a small clearing of your throat to regain your composure in front of the boy. He didn’t need to see you cry over the fact that he looked like one of your dead friends with the personality of another. That wasn’t fair.

“It’s nice to finally meet you Harry, properly,” You extend your hand almost hesitantly as you introduce yourself, and he takes it graciously in his own with a small sympathetic smile. Being proxy comforted by a teenager, how pathetic.

“It’s nice to meet you too, my parents have good friends,” You give the boy a small nod with a small, sad smile, and he mirrors it himself in turn.

“I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve any of this,” You let your hand rest on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly in a terrible attempt at consoling the sadness riddling his expression. “You’re just a boy Harry,”

“I know,” He gives a small sigh and a more confident smile, sympathy lingering in the creases of his cheeks in a perfectly Lily fashion. “I’m sorry for your loss too, I know they probably meant a great deal to you,”

“They still do, that’s why I’m here,”

“Thank you,” He sounds more confident in his thanks this time, more determined, and the remnants of his parents continue to show on full display as his focus returns to the reason you’d arrived here in the first place. “We’re about to sit down for dinner, join us?”

“I’ll be there shortly,” You give Harry a small nod and another small squeeze of his shoulder before excusing yourself up the stairs to leave your belongings.

—

“Good evening everyone,” Your voice is taught and awkwardly flat as you push open the door to the dining room, and you stand there with your hands wrung together behind your back as your eyes flicker over the room.

There are so many people that the table is almost entirely too crowded, and a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces in your presence, although those who do recognise you leave their seats almost immediately to greet you properly.

“It’s good to see you,” Remus reaches you first, wrapping you in a secure hug that you happily return with your own.

“It’s good to see you too, Remus, it’s been too long,”

“Welcome back, we need all of the human shields we can get,” Mad Eye’s reuinionative statement is much less heart felt, but you give him a small laugh and a “Thank you,” nonetheless.

Then there was Sirius. Stood at his chair, not daring to walk into your little bubble under fear of whatever consequences that might come from it.

He looked almost as you remembered him, but he was leaner, more gaunt, his hair more unruly and his skin even more paper-white than the almost impossibly pale complexion of his teenage years.

He was still Sirius, but he was different, and it took less than half a second of eye contact for him to realise that you were different too.

“Welcome back,” His voice is hesitant, almost catching in his throat as his brain catches up to the fact that you’re stood in front of him, less than ten feet away after all of those years he’d spent desperately dreaming of what it would feel like to have you in his arms again.

Now you were here. And you were a stranger.

“Thank you,”

Dinner progresses pretty much how you expected, a mix of awkwardly introducing yourself to the Order’s new members and horrifically failing at avoiding eye contact with Sirius from across the table.

Then the topic of interest moves to the Order’s plans, and things seem to spin into a downwards spiral all too quickly.

“We don’t have enough members to reliably be able to pull this off,” The argument was entirely valid from a logical standpoint, a weakness that quite a few of the Order seemed to have choice opinions about.

“Yeah well we’re not getting any new members are we?” Sirius leans back in his chair exasperatedly. “With the way Fudge is portraying Dumbledore and the lack of official credibility, we’re on our own here, there’s no use in waiting around,”

“I’m inclined to agree, we all know you know who isn’t going to waste any time,

“It’s reckless,” You shake your head with furrowed eyebrows. “We not ready to face something like that head on.”

“We’re never going to be ready,” Sirius shakes his head with a sigh. “We have to take action before he has the chance to build himself back to where he was all those years ago.”

“Sirius is right, we need to do something,” Sirius gestures towards Harry’s response like it’s the final nail in the coffin against your reasoning.

“Harry, sweetheart, I appreciate your enthusiasm but you don’t know the extent of what we’re dealing with,” Your voice is as gentle as it is assertive, not wanting to put him down too much but also wanting to make sure he understood the true extent of what was going on.

“He killed my friend in front of me—”

“And he’s killed dozens of ours,” You shake your head softly but firmly. “Jumping in without a plan is only going to make things worse, trust me.”

He seems more than a little shot down, but he gives you a small nod of understanding nonetheless as he backs down from his standing.

Sirius doesn’t pay you the same mind.

“So you’re suggesting we just wait in hiding for what, forever? We need to act,”

“The last time you ‘acted’, Sirius, you spent twelve years in Azkaban for it.” Your rebuttal holds none of the softness that was present when you were talking to Harry, and you can see it eroding the calcified shield behind Sirius’s eyes.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Sirius presses his teeth together to keep himself from raising his voice, his back straightening alongside his defensiveness. “At least I’m trying to do something, if you don’t want to contribute maybe you shouldn’t be a part of the Order at all,”

“I will not have this argument with you again Sirius!” His chastation seems to finally get under your skin as you rise yourself from your chair with your hands on the dining table, ignorantly ignoring the uncomfortable gazes of everyone else present as you’re forced back into that evening fourteen years go all over again.

“Okay, I think it’s time we called it a night,” Remus, seemingly the only normally functioning person at the table, rises from his chair slowly, taking your shoulders in his hands to guide you away from the group and calm you down.

“Yes right you are Remus,” Molly stands up with a nod that’s almost too enthusiastic clasping her hands together. “Off to bed, all of you,”

You can practically hear the lingering exasperation in Remus’ breathing as he leads you up the stairs and into the room he was staying in, and the second he shut the door behind you you knew what you were in for.

“You need to speak to him.”

“I know,”

“Properly.”

“I know,”

You’re sure the sigh you let out echoes across the house’s first floor, and it’s enough for Remus’ eyes to shift into displaying a concerning amount of sympathy in your direction.

“He misses you, you know,” Remus takes a seat on the edge of his bed with a soft sigh. “He said the thought of seeing you again was the only thing that got him through Azkaban,”

“Yeah well he wouldn’t’ve gone there in the first place if he hadn’t’ve been such a hot-headed twat,” You wouldn’t lie that Remus’ statement didn’t hit you a little where it hurt, but the lingering anger towards Sirius’ situation was clearly still more forefront in your mind.

“It’s a carried trait in all of us ’m‘fraid,” Remus tilts his head knowingly, and you have half the mind to roll your eyes at the clear implication of what he’s saying.

But he isn’t wrong, not really.

“You know where to find him,”

There’s a small moment of silence, then a sigh. “Do I have to?”

“The longer you wait the worse it’ll be,”

Sometimes you hate how logical Remus can be.

With another sigh and a loll of your head, you reluctantly stuff your hands in your pockets and turn towards the bedroom door, muttering a soft—and only half genuine—“thanks,” in his direction as you leave.

The wooden door that barricaded you from the former love of your life felt more like steel than anything else. Tall, dark, and intimidating to the point where you couldn’t even consciously lift your hand to knock against it under the blood rushing behind your ears from how fast your heart was pounding in your ribcage.

It really shouldn’t be so scary, you’d spent weeks, months in that room when you’d originally joined the Order, yet now it felt entirely foreign to you.

Maybe it was the fact that the wood was slowly rotting away with how unkept it was. Maybe it was the knowledge of what—who—was on the other side of it. Or maybe, your mind was just so completely and utterly fucked that the idea of confronting the consequences of your own actions was more nerve-wracking than the idea of standing face to face in a death match with Voldemort himself.

You stand there staring dumbly at the door for almost two minutes, and when it opens your eyes widen like it’s a new form of magic that you’d never encountered.

Sirius halts halfway out the door, arm stretched straight with the doorknob still in hand as his face seems to go through an insurmountable number of emotions in the half-second it takes for him to realise you’re there.

You don’t say anything as you make eye-contact, head immediately ducking downward and stepping aside so that he can leave without you blocking his path, but he just stays there, staring at you like you had been the door, and it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable by the second.

You clear your throat with a feigned cough, pursing your lips together with a muttered “excuse me,” as you turn around to leave, but Sirius catches your wrist in his hand before you even manage to take the first step.

“Wait—” He loosens his grasp almost immediately after he feels a resistance, but his eyes convey just how determined he was to keep you where you were. “Let’s talk, please?”

There’s a hint of desperation in his tone, and you almost crumble on that alone, but you manage to maintain your composure with a small shake of your head and a gentle pull of your wrist from his hand. “I don’t think it’s worth it Sirius, not anymore,”

“Don’t say that, we can fix this,” Sirius mirrors your head shake with his own. “You just need to talk to me,”

“I tried talking to you Sirius, and look where it got us,” You gesture between the two of you with exasperation in your tone.

There’s a small pause where the two of you share and almost identical mask of composure over your agony.

“It just wasn’t meant to be, that’s it,”

“That’s not true,” Sirius shakes his head again, more confidently this time, and his inky black curls bounce against his shoulders like they’re trying to torment you with the memories of your fingers raking through them. “We can fix this, us, we just have to try,”

“I don’t want to argue with you anymore,” You lower your gaze away from his so you don’t have to see the heartbreak in his irises. “Especially not over this…”

“Then don’t, let’s work this out properly, like adults,” He reaches out his hand cautiously towards yours, and you flinch away as your fingers make contact. “Please,”

“Sirius…”

“I’m sorry.” Sirius lets out a heavy, pathetic breath as he retreats his hand to run it through his hair. “I am so sorry. I made the biggest mistake of my life and it cost me the person that I love more than life and I have suffered the consequences of it every day for the last fourteen years.”

Sirius lets his hands fall to his side with a start, voice beginning to tremble under the strain of his emotions as he desperately tries to voice everything that he’d bottled up over the last decade and a half before you leave him to rot in his own depression again. “I spent every hour in Azkaban imagining what it would be like to see you again, to hear your voice, to hold you and tell you that you’re the one thing in this goddamn hell that we live in that actually makes anything worth fighting for,”

The breaths between his words are shallow and weak, and your expression starts to blur as his eyes glass over with the beginnings of tears. “I love you so much, and I’m so— sorry that you had to live through everything I forced on you and I just—“ He takes a sharp, stuttering breath in. “—I need you to know that I will spend the rest of my life devoted to you, to correcting what I’ve done even if you don’t so much as spare me a glance,”

He’s not sure when the tears started running over his eyelids, but he can feel them fall in drops to dapple the ivory skin of his fingers. “And if I die tomorrow, I’ll take whatever punishment hell has to give me so that you can rest easy,”

The end of his rant is echoed by laboured breathing and a horrific attempt at muffling a sob that leaves his throat, bouncing off the walls of the hallway to settle into your muscles as you stand stationary in an astonished silence.

You’re not sure what to say. You’re not sure there’s anything you can say. How on earth are you supposed to respond to something like that? Something so desperate and raw and real?

Sirius Black, after fourteen years of radio silence, still loved you like you’d never parted.

“Sirius…”

And you’d be absolutely damned if you weren’t the same.

“I forgive you…”

It’s like a tsunami of relief ravages Sirius’ body at your words, barely a whisper escaping your mouth but invading his ear canals like a nuclear explosion, and it’s enough for that sliver of composure remaining to erode under the waves of his tears until he’s sobbing into his hands, hunched over with trembling shoulders as he lets everything go all at once.

“I’m so sorry—“

His final apology is doused in so much heartbreak it might as well rip your heart right out of your chest, and your at his side almost immediately, gently pulling his hand from his face to pull his head into your shoulder with a soft shush of consolation.

He clings to you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to, tears damping the shoulder of your shirt and his arms wrapped so tightly around your torso you’re not sure he intends to ever let go. You’re not sure you’d complain if he didn’t.

That familiar musky scent of cigarettes and faux leather hits your nose once he’s close enough, and that’s where you break too, silent tears streaming down your face as you bury your nose in his hair.

You’re eternally grateful that everyone on this floor of the house is already asleep, either that or just polite enough not to interrupt the two of you out in the hallway, because the state the both of you were in was definitely not meant to be seen by other people.

A desolate, broken side to the two of you only trusted in the company of the other.

“Stay with me tonight, please…” His plea is barely more than a mutter against your shoulder, and you’re sure he wouldn’t even have to ask to know what your answer would be.

And so you find yourself back where you started, tangled up underneath the silky black sheets of Sirius’ bed in the warmth of his embrace, that tiny shard of your heart finally recovered and back in it’s rightful place.

Right where you belong.

[peachesofteal]

Maybe Johnny ends up in the hospital.

Maybe he ends up with a spine fracture, broken arm, shattered pelvis, deep tissue burns all over his stomach and chest. Maybe he hemorrhaged, has internal organ damage. It’s bad, bad enough that he needs multiple, complicated surgeries. Bad enough that it’s a struggle to stabilize him, and keep him conscious. Simon is there the entire time, doesn’t leave his side, sleeps sitting straight up in the uncomfortable chair that he’s dragged next to Johnny’s bed. He’s Johnny’s next of kin, and advocates for Johnny when he’s not able to do it himself. It’s grueling, every second feels like a lifetime. Johnny’s in so much pain every time he comes to, and Simon can’t do anything to help him, to take away his pain or make him feel better. All he can do is sit by his bedside and hold his hand. Anytime he’s handled by doctors or aides, nurses or respiratory therapists, Simon watches their every move, ready to shove them away the second he see’s Johnny face crumple in agony. Ready to swoop down and remove them the moment he feels like something’s not right. Hospitals make his skin crawl, make him feel like a big bug under a microscope and he hates it. He doesn’t trust this place, doesn’t trust anyone in here to take care of Johnny.

But then there’s you. You, the ICU nurse that works the floor four nights a week on graves. You, who he notices, checks on Johnny (and Simon) more than the other nurses do. Who takes the time to make sure the lights in the room aren’t too bright, or that Johnny’s blankets are not tucked in too tight across his stomach. You always knock on the sliding glass before coming in, and you’re always smiling at him, and Johnny, even though he’s hardly ever awake to see it. It’s not a forced smile either, it’s something soft. Something precious, something kind. You don’t look away from Simon, even when he scowls at you from above the mask when you wake Johnny in the middle of the night, for some reason or another.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know.” You soothe him, gentle hand on his good forearm before you swab his arm for a blood draw. Simon’s muscles inadvertently tense, because he can’t help, because he hates sitting here, completely helpless, watching Johnny grimace in pain.

“‘s alright, bonnie. Not yer fault.” He assures, eyebrows knitted together, jaw gnashed tight.

“Just need to get some blood, okay?” You intentionally look at Simon, like you’re waiting for his go ahead before you start, and he nods his approval before you push the needle through his partner’s skin. “And then maybe we’ll get you some more pain meds, I’ll make a note for the next shift to let you sleep unless it’s dire.” Simon nods again, gratefully. Maybe Johnny will be able to get some uninterrupted rest this morning. You give Johnny one of your sweet smiles, and then directs it to Simon too. It makes his mouth go dry a little bit, and he’s too entranced by the eye contact, the curve of your lips, to notice Johnny’s eyes flicking back and forth between him, and you.

So maybe he doesn’t mind when its you, in particular. Maybe it’s not so bad, when you slip inside the room with an extra smoothie for Johnny, or when you flick the lights off when you think they’re both sleeping. Maybe he doesn’t mind that when he comes back from the cafeteria, you’re sitting in a different chair, reading from your kindle because Johnny had asked you stay a while between versed doses. He’s enchanted by the way you care for Johnny, the tenderness you show him, the way you’re gentle and sweet with him, to him, the way you take the time explain everything that’s happening with Johnny’s medical care to both of them, patiently answering the questions, even the ones Simon worries are dimwitted. Simon tells himself that it’s your job, you’re just doing your job, but he can’t help but perk up a little bit whenever you linger, or try to engage him in small talk. You ask him about their lives (busy) their job (classified) and how they fell in love (“it’s a long story-“ “it’s really not, LT.”)

He also notices little things about you too. Some nights when you come in, you seem happy, bubbly. Refreshed. And others, you’re dragging a bit, posture slumped, circles under your eyes. He sees the way your scrubs are usually a little wrinkled, the day you wore two mismatching socks, the small little bruise, impacted skin, on the inside of your arm… and it makes him wonder. You take such good care of Johnny, of himself… but is anyone taking care of you?

Simple Math masterlist

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Reader accepts Zach's invitation about coming onto the podcast, despite going through a hard time. 

Warnings: there won't be smut in this (I can always do a part 2), but there will sexual innuendos and other things that make it feel like it belongs in this book, kinda sad beginning, swearing, joking around, reader is good friends with Zach and Jared, reader feeling sad/down, long distance relationship? possible angst? 

I will be using some actual dialogue from their videos, but most of it will be from me. 

Word count: 6.3k | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

It's been a few weeks since you and Sam sat down and had a long discussion about your relationship. 

You both agreed that it was best you "cut things off'' until things start to settle down - but you both didn't know when that was going to happen. 

No matter how hard you tried, your schedules were always packed. You were flying to one state on the other side of the county. 

Sam was flying to the opposite. 

It didn't really make sense, because things really didn't change romantically, you still said I love you. You still FaceTimed when you could. 

It's just, everything was always over the phone. 

Through texts, phone calls, pictures. 

You haven't seen each other since the night Sam left with Colby to do their overseas haunted tour thing that they've been planning for months. 

That was three weeks ago, and it's killing you - both. 

You both agreed that you need to give both of your lives all you got, and that's where it made sense. Putting your careers first, getting ahead so you have time to plan out the future together. 

You hated it. Absolutely despised it, but you truly believed that if your love was real, and you truly believed it was.. 

It will always contain the habit of coming back. 

You hugged Sam tight, not wanting to let him go. His arms stayed around you, chin rested on your head as he basked in the last moments you had together before he had to fly to Romania. 

Then to Spain. 

Then Ireland. 

It was going to be non stop. 

"Hey." Sam whispers, "I love you." You sniffle, mumbling into his chest, "I love you." He slides an arm over your shoulder, tilting your tear soaked face up to look at him. 

He smiles slightly, biting his lip to hold back his own tears, "I don't care how complicated things gets. I still want you." 

You nod, "Always your girl." 

He kisses your forehead, "Always my girl." 

You can tell he nods, meaning Colby has signaled him, and you let out a sigh, "Let me know when you land." 

"You know I'll update you any chance I get." He pulls you into a hug, squeezing tight, "I love you. I love you so much." 

You try your hardest not to cry, but you can't help it and sob into his chest, "I love you." 

He cups your cheek, kissing you deeply before leaning back, "I don't want to, but I gotta go."

"Go." You smile, "But don't have too much fun." You laugh slightly before it quickly turns into crying again and you fight it, "I'm sorry." 

He shakes his head, "Never be sorry." He kisses you one last time, "Wait for me." 

You nod, turning around to see Colby standing behind you, "Safe travels." You reach up, wrapping your arms around Colby's neck and he hugs you tight, "It'll be okay." 

You nod, leaning back, "I know." You wipe your face, watching as Sam and Colby walk towards the gate. 

Sam smiles slightly, giving you one last wave before he walks through. 

Once he's out of your sight, you cover your face, absolutely breaking down and you didn't care that it was in the middle of the airport. 

Your friend walks up, wrapping her arms around you, "You guys are inevitable." 

"I have to go in like ten minutes, we're getting ready to head to our next place." Sam says from the other end of the phone. 

You pout totally forgetting about the time difference, "Okay." 

"Hey " Sam tilts his head, "Don't do that." 

"I'm not doing anything. I've mastered waiting until we hang up." You laugh and he sighs, "Girl. You're going to kill me." 

"If I was going to do that, I would have done it before you left." 

You've been coping with jokes and humor. You were still absolutely dying inside with not being able to lay with him. Kiss him. Hug him. 

It was still eating away at you, but, as said, you've just mastered it with humor. 

"Part of me wishes you did." Sam mumbles with a laugh, "This is hell." 

You sigh quietly, sitting up as you rest your chin in the palm of your hand, "I know." You smile as you think about what your friend said, "But just remember that we're inevitable." 

"Damn right." Sam smiles and you hear Colby yell at him, "Alright, enough with the phone sex. The car's here." 

You laugh as you watch Sam's mouth drop and he pans his phone over his fully clothed in layers body, "Does it look like I have my d-" 

"I don't need to know what nasty shit you guys are in to." Colby laughs and you sigh, "Alright. I love you." 

You see the phone get ripped out of Sam's hand and Colby's face appears suuuper close to the camera, "I love you, too." 

You shake your head, laughing, "oh my god." 

Sam gets his phone back and he smiles, "Talk later?" 

You nod, "You know it. Be safe. Good luck!" 

Sam smiles, "Yes ma'am." He salutes you, "Alright, I love you." You smile, "I love you." 

The call ends and you feel that sudden rush of, once gated, emotions hit you all at once. You fall into the bed, specifically on Sam's side and take a deep shaky breath, "Fuck." 

You lay a pillow over your face and lay there for a second, taking yourself down from crying. 

Your phone dings and you hesitate for a second before you toss the pillow next to you and search for your phone. 

A laugh leaves your lips as you see a message from your friend, Zach Justice, Hey sweet cheeks. Come on the podcast. 

You click on it, typing out, oh now you want me to come on? 

You take a screenshot and send it to Sam. You stare up at the ceiling as you wait for a response from either one, trying to convince yourself that what you're going through, is going to benefit your future with Sam. 

Together. 

You bring your phone up, rolling your eyes at Zach's response, Not so much me, but the people in the comments. Your name is infesting every video I post. 

Infesting? That's a.. weird way of putting it lol. I'll see if I can squeeze you in to fit in my busy, busy schedule. 

Your friendship with Zach has always been playful banter, ever since you met, but he's always there for you. 

You haven't said anything to him, or Jared, about your current situation with Sam, but you know that just going on the podcast would definitely help you get through this easier. 

You bring your phone back up and laugh as what Zach had to say, So kind of you to consider hanging out with me. 

You laugh, I know, I can be sooo nice. I'll come if you buy me a plane ticket. 

And pick me up from the airport, with donuts. 

You see the message change from delivered to read and his face pops up on your screen. You take a deep breath and hit answer, "You couldn't have just texted me?" 

"Donuts you say? You must be really going through it." 

You laugh, "You have no idea." 

"Does this have anything to do with Sam?" He raises his brows when you don't answer him and he hums, "Thought so." 

"We're.. together but we're not together? If that makes any kind of sense. I don't know. We both agreed that our schedules are too much for us to be labeled as a couple right now, so we just, agreed to put more focus on the business of our lives?" You shake your head, "I'm just.. feeling a lot." 

"Yeah, you're totally coming on the podcast." He laughs, "I'll get your plane ticket." You can tell he's focused on something else and you laugh, "I was joking. I can get my-"

"Done." 

"Zach." You laugh, "I don't even know when I'm free." 

"Well, you better be free next Thursday." He smiles, giving you a wink, "See you then." 

"Don't.. wink at me. That's weird." 

"Ugh" he groans dramatically, "Sorry." He smiles, "See you next Thursday, I'll send you the deats." He winks and hangs up before you can yell at him again. 

You see a message from Sam and your attention shifts as you read what he says, You should definitely do it, babe. I think it would be good for you. 

You tap the screen, Zach really didn't give me a choice. He bought my plan ticket for me already so now I have to move stuff around, but I agree. 

Your eyes move up to the time, groaning lowly as you realize just how late it is. You remembered you have a meeting for a brand deal within the next four hours, so you reach over, turning off your lights so you can try and get at least a little bit of sleep. 

Why'd he have to get such an early flight, you think as you zip your suitcase closed. You lift it off the bed and set it upright on the floor before replacing the spot on the bed with your body. 

The last two days, Sam and Colby have been camping in a place they don't have service, so you haven't talked to him. 

Your phone dings and you lift in hopes that it's Sam, but it's Zach, On your way to the airport? 

You laugh quietly, You act like you're exited to see me or something, but soon. Waiting on my friend to get here to take me. 

Your friend texts you, letting you know that she's there and you get a move on, pulling the handle from your case and wheeling it behind you as you walk out to the living room. 

She comes in, "You ready?" 

You look over at her, "Yeah I just have to grab my headphones, they've been charging." She nods, "You doing okay?" 

You shrug, "I mean, yeah. For the most part." You laugh slightly, "As good as I can be." 

"Where did he say they were camping again?" She crosses her arms and you look at her, "Some.. demonic forest? I have no idea. If I don't hear from him by tomorrow I'm sending a search and rescue team." 

She laughs, "No I don't blame you." She walks over, grabbing the handle of your bag as you stuff your headphones into your carry on, "I know how Zach is, and he's a jokester.. are you going to be alright?" 

You nod, "I talked to Zach about everything last week, I told him that joking is my way to cope, so I gave him the green light." 

"I can't wait for this to come out. I just know it's going to be better than the others." She laughs and you nod, "Oh you know it." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Walking into the airport was almost like you were reliving that day with Sam all over again. Luckily, you had to go to a different gate in a different part of the building, which really made it a lot easier in the long run. 

"Well. I'll see ya in a day or two." You lean in, hugging your friend, "Thank you." 

She squeezes you, "Don't need to thank me. Have a good flight." 

You nod, "I'll try. I'll text you when I land." 

You turn, walking up to the lady to hand her your ticket. She smiles, "Hi, y/n. I have to tell you, my daughter is a huge fan of yours." 

"Awe." You smile, "You'll have to tell her I said thank you.

The lady nods, "I will." She smiles, "Safe travels, y/n." 

You smile and walk in, turning back to wave to your friend before boarding the plane. 

You sit down in your seat, checking your phone to see if Sam texted - but no message. You sigh, unfolding your headphones and slipping them over your ears. 

You've been on enough planes to know the routine. 

After pressing play for your music to play, you send a quick text to Zach, letting him know that you boarded and should be there in about two to three hours. 

Your flight feels longer than it should be. It felt like time was dragging by as slow as it could possibly go. 

But once you land and are able to exit, you practically bolt to the baggage claim. 

I got my bags, where are you? 

You look around, waiting to either see Zach or hear back from him. 

Moments later, he texts, Standing in front of the Starbucks. Someone didn't send me their gate number so I figured I'd treat myself to cheer myself up. 

You laugh, grabbing your bag as you type with your thumb, you're ridiculous, did you at least get me one? 

Zach replies, No why would I do that? 

You roll your eyes and walk to the Starbucks, smiling as you see him holding two coffees, "You did in fact do that." 

He turns, smiling as he opens his arms to hug you, "Yeah yeah, don't ruin it."

You step back, taking the coffee he hands you, "Ready?" He nods, "right this way, sweet cheeks." 

"You just going to keep coming up with new nicknames each time you talk to me?" You laugh and he stares at you, "Um, yeah. That's what I've been doing? Right?" 

You roll your eyes, "What are you going to do when you run out of nicknames? Recycle the old ones." 

He laughs, "Boy are you funny. Listen here." He stops pointing to his head and you tilt your head as you watch him tap his temple, "This baby can go for miles. Don't ever underestimate me." 

You hold your hand up in defense, "Message received, sweet cheeks." 

He gives you a look, trying not to laugh and he sighs, "Not cool." He laughs, turning to lead you to his car. 

The ride to the house was filled with small talk, mainly catching up and what not since it's been over a year since you've seen him last. 

Once there, you're greeted by Jared and Alyssa with hugs. 

"How was the flight?" Jared asks and you shrug with a laugh, "Long."

"Did you do your hair recently? It's so pretty." Alyssa plays with a stand and you nod, "Yeah I went after a meeting last week. I figured I needed a change or something." 

"You know, I think I seen it on Instagram." She laughs and Zach rolls his eyes, "girl talk, yuck. I'm not doing this." He walks over to sit down and puts his headphones on. 

He motions to the empty chair, "Are we doing this?" 

"I still don't have a choice do I?" You laugh and Zach sighs, "Now you're finally getting it."

You set your stuff down, walking over to sit on the red seat. You put your headphones on and look around as Jared and Alyssa get settled in. 

"We good?" Zach asks and looks at everyone, and you all nod. 

"What's up guys. Welcome to one ninety six of Dropouts." Zach starts in a loud, cheery sing songy tone, "Were here with the guest you've all been waiting for..." 

Jared gives Zach a drum roll and Zach looks at you, "Miss Y/n y/l/n." 

"Hi everybody." You smile, "Just to let everyone know, Zach didn't give me a choice to do this, so everyone should go flood his comments-" 

"No, cut that out. We're cutting that out." Zach tries not to laugh, "Listen. It only took how long for you to finally get here?" 

"She's a very busy girl, Zach." Jared laughs, "Speaking of.. Did I, or did I not, see that you're going to be on the next cover of vogue?" 

"You guys heard about that?" You smile and look at Alyssa and she claps for you, "Powerful woman." 

You smile and look at Zach, "Jealous?" 

Zach raises his brows, "That I'm not a woman? Please. I don't need anymore problems." He takes a deep breath, "Anyway. Besides that, I want to ask you a very serious question." 

You time your head, "That could be anything.." 

Zach fights back a smirk, "You seen, two or three episodes back that we had.. Sam, and Colby on here, right." 

Jared laughs, "Zach, where are you going with this?" 

"No where. Well. I mean." He laughs, "Somewhere, but just, wait. We aren't there yet." 

"Clearly." You and Alyssa say at the same time and you both laugh. 

Zach points between the two of you, "See. This is why I don't like having them both here, they like tag team me and not in the way any man would want to happen, ya feel me?" 

You roll your eyes, "Sam and Colby, your question." You laugh when he looks at you and he smirks, "You and Sam.. getting down and dirty yeah?" 

You laugh, "If you want to put it that way, I mean. Yeah, but not like.. recently." 

"Why's that?" Zach rubs his chin with his fingers and you shrug, "in the words of Jared, she's a very busy girl, Zach." 

"Mm, okay." He raises his brows and shakes his head, "Now another question I have for you.. and don't get mad at me for asking this, because if I'm correct, they confirmed this when they were here." 

You raise your brows, knowing exactly where this is going, "Mhm." 

"Did Sam leave the states to be with Colby officially because, now, this is what I was told, you threatened to turn Colby into a spirit himself?" Zach leans back and you stare at him for a few second before laughing, "Oh my god." 

"That's.." Jared laughs, "Who did you hear that from?" 

Zach makes a face, "Oh so now you're going to sit there and pretend like that isn't what you told me last night?" 

"Whoa, okay. No. Y/n. I didn't-" Jared laughs and Zach cuts in, "Oh, see. He can't deny it. His face is as red as the seats and he's starting to smell because he's so full of it." 

"What the fuck." Jared rolls his eyes and you sigh, leaning in towards the mic, "For the record, I have never threatened to turn Colby into a spirit." 

"But you aren't denying that they're married?" Zach tilts his head, pointing his finger at you, "But even then, you'd have to ward off Colby because I'm sure his spirit will just attach to Sam." 

"No that's little girl spirits." Jared laughs, emphasizing again, "Spirits. We've been over this with them. Please don't take that the wrong way." 

"Anyway." Zach shakes his head, "When's the last time you talked to either one of them?" 

You sigh, "Oh gosh. This will be day three, but I've already said, if I don't hear from him by the end of today I'm sending in a search and rescue team for their asses." 

"Oh gosh, that just.. wow." Zach sighs, "Can I just.. that just brought up something very serious and I need to say it, like right now." 

"Or what you'll explode?" Alyssa asks causing you and Jared to laugh. Zach looks over at her, "Can you just shut up for two seconds, I have something important I need to say." 

Alyssa raises her hands, fighting back her laughter. 

Zach looks at you and he takes a deep breath, "Now this.. might be hard for you to hear, as well for everyone else watching and, or listening.. but.." he looks into the camera, "If you wanna see me go retrieve Sam and Colby from." He pauses and looks at you, "Where are they right now?" 

You fight back laughter, "Camping in some demonic forest." 

He picks right back up, "Camping in a demonic forest, subscribe to the Patreon, you can see all of that plus stuff that's already happened." 

"You're.. insufferable." Jared shakes his head as he looks down and Zach just shrugs, "People like them. And if they know that I'm willing to help them, they'll like me, too. Okay. Moving on."

"So you literally got in today? Like your flight." Zach asks and you just stare at him. He cracks a smile, "What?"

"You're literally the one who picked her up from the airport, Zach." Jared laughs and you gasp, "Oh, and he brought me donuts like I said to last week and a coffee at the airport while he was waiting for me." 

"Hey hey hey." Zach says quickly, "Don't be telling everyone lies. You know I spit in your coffee before I gave it to you." 

"That's atrocious, Dude. What the fuck." Jared closes his eyes and shakes his head. You stare at Zach, "No you didn't." Zach shrugs, "The world may never know." 

"I don't know if I believe him, because I can totally see him doing that, just like to fuck with someone close to him." You laugh, "Oh god, I drank all of that, too. Did you really do that?" 

Zach sighs, nodding his head as he speaks, "No, I didn't." 

"See!" You point to him laughing, "You're a child."

Zach laughs, "Yeah and you're the queen of England." He pretends like he's using a gavel, "Case closed. So. Back to Sam and Colby.. Since you're so close with them, like have you gone on any investigations with them?"  

"I used to. Like right before my channel took off, I would go with them maybe twice a month?" You answer and Zach nods, "Is that why your channel blew up?" 

You can tell he's asking something that does relate to being touched or spoken to by a ghost, "Are you-" 

"Yes." Zach cuts you off and you laugh, "No. I didn't sell my soul. I'm pretty sure it's still there, I mean I don't know how to check but." 

Zach reaches over and feels your wrist, "Still there." 

"Zach." Jared bursts out laughing, "that's her pulse man, not her soul." 

Zach shrugs, "You never know. She may have turned into some sort of succubus demon thing that doesn't have a pulse but she has one. She's good." 

You roll your eyes and you can feel your phone vibrating in the pocket of your sweatpants, "I'm getting a call." 

"That the devil calling, he wants to return your souls." Zach says and you laugh, "That was good." You pull your phone out, not even hiding your happiness when you see Sam's name, "It's Sam." 

You push your one headphone off your ear and bring your phone up, "hey!" 

"We just got to service, are you okay?" Sam asks and you keep smiling, "Yeah I'm actually doing the podcast right now."

"Oh fuck, right now? I'm sorry." Sam says and you shake your head, "No, you're fine, how was it?" 

You look over at Zach and he wiggles his fingers, "Put him on speaker." You hold up one finger and continue to listen to Sam speak, "I'll have to FaceTime you later and show you. It was pretty nuts." 

"Oh god, yeah I'm sure. Zach wants me to put you on speaker so I'm going to do that here in a second." You take the phone away and tap the button, "Okay." 

"Is y/n a succubus?" Zach asks straight away, obviously catching Sam off guard, "What.. the fuck?" He laughs, "Is she a what?" 

"A demon. I mean I checked her pulse and she has one so I think we're good, but I figured I'd check in with the main ghost hunter because you'd know her better than any of us." 

"What kind of things are you talking about on the podcast?" Sam laughs and Zach sighs, "I guess you'll just have to wait and see when the video comes out." 

"Um.. okay." Sam laughs and you take him off speaker, "You're off speaker, now." 

"Yeah so give it to her good, Sammy my boy." Zach yells and you roll your eyes as Sam laughs, "There's something wrong with him." 

"Oh I know. But according to him, his brain can go for miles." 

"Y/n. What did I say about telling my secrets." Zach shakes his head and you shrug, "Sorry, that must have been the devil taking over." 

Zach raises his eyebrows, "Clearly." He nods, "Ask Sam if he got my text, since they now have service and what not." 

You relay the message and Sam takes a second to check, "Oh yeah, I got it." 

You nod to Zach, "Yeah, he got it." Zach nods, fighting back a smirk, "Cool, cool." 

"Why are you acting like that?" Jared asks and Zach tilts his head, "What do you mean?" Jared looks from him to you, "You're being.. more weird than usual." 

"I have my meter for weirdness and it sits right here." Zach holds his hand up, "and I haven't gone above that level since... Mm. Let say. Tuesday?"

"What's going on?" Sam asks and you laugh, "Oh Zach and Jared are arguing. Normal stuff, you know." 

Sam laughs, "Oh yeah. Typical." You hear him sigh and you know what's about to happen so you cut him off before he can say anything, "Talk later?" 

"You know it. I love you." Sam says and you smile, looking down, "I love you." 

The call ends and you look up, "Alright." 

"Alright, now we can get on with other things." Zach claps his hands together, "Are we still going out after this?" 

You raise your brows, "Out?"

Zach furrows his brows and looks from Jared to Alyssa, "Is your guy's stuff acting up?" He motions to his headphones and they both shake their heads no.

"Mines good, why is yours?" Jared asks and Zach shakes his head, "No, I'm just trying to make sure that y/n can hear me alright because out is exactly what I said." 

You roll your eyes, "Oh my god. Shut the fuck up." 

"I didn't know if you could hear me okay or not, was just double checking, jeeze. No need to be so aggressive." Zach tries not to laugh and you shake your head, knowing that no matter how much you try and talk yourself out of it, you'll still be going out. 

So you just sit back and accept your fate. 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Almost two hours later, the podcast comes to a close and you set your headphones down on the bench, "Is it just me, or did that podcast feel like it went longer than normal?" 

You look between Zach, Jared, and Alyssa. 

"I don't think it felt any different." Jared shakes his head and shrugs. Alyssa nods, "I think it went over just a little bit, but not much." 

You nod and Zach stands up, "That jet lag must be really doing a number on you." 

You shrug, "I don't know, but are we at least getting dinner because I haven't eaten since this morning."

"You are such a cry baby. Let's go." Zach laughs as he walks away and you scoff, following him out the door. 

You all pile into the car and start driving to the restaurant, "So where was Tara?" You ask leaning forward, "I texted her but I haven't gotten any answer from her." 

"She's like, really sick." Zach says, "I called her this morning and it sounded like she swallowed her phone." 

"Oh god, if she sounds that bad then she's probably sleeping it off." You lean back, looking down at your phone, "So what did you and Sam talk about?" 

You look up at Zach and he looks back at you in the rear view, "When did your name change to Nelly because you're awfully nosey." 

You laugh, "Fine then don't tell me. I'm sure he'll tell me anyway." 

"Yeah, he probably will." Zach turns into the parking lot and you roll your eyes, accepting that reverse psychology doesn't work on him. 

As you get out, you check your phone. You let out a sigh and slip it into your pocket before closing the door. 

"I don't know much about the situation.." Alyssa says as she walks over to you, ".. but I know that you and Sam are major endgame if you ask me." 

You smile, "Thanks. I just.. we talked about putting pause on our relationship and it's just so hard because the only thing that really changed was us making time for each other. I mean, it didn't really happen much lately anyway, but the fact that we just cut it all out in one shot.." you sigh, "I hate it." 

She nods, "I'm sure it's rough, but you both have great careers, and I promise that it'll work out in the end. It might not seem like it now, but it will." 

"Thank you." You take a deep breath, "I actually needed that." 

She smiles and rubs your back, "Come on, Zach is probably in there bitching." 

You laugh and roll your eyes, "Probably." 

You walk into the restaurant, making your way to the table that Jared and Zach are sitting at and Zach looks up, "So they didn't get kidnapped." 

"You can't get rid of us that easily." You laugh as you sit down, "So what's good here?" You look over at Alyssa and she explains some of her favorite dishes. 

Throughout dinner, you caught yourself checking your phone and your sadness grew each time you seen zero notifications from Sam. 

At this point, you wanted to go to a hotel and just sleep off your day. 

But that wasn't happening. 

"Why do you look more miserable than normal?" Zach asks and you look up at him, laughing slightly, "I'm just.. getting really tired." 

Wasn't a full lie. 

"Uh huh. Well you better wake up, because where we're going next will get your mind off, being tired." He tilts his head and you roll your eyes, "I hate that you know me." 

"You secretly love it. Now come on." He stands up, along with you and everyone else and you make your way out to the car. 

You're quiet for the most part, except for when they force you to join in on conversation. 

"When did you hear about Vogue?" Alyssa asks and you can't help but smirk, "I found out a few days ago. I kind of just waited, kept it to myself. It really didn't hit until Jared asked me about it." 

"So wait, the post that they made with your picture titled the next face of vogue didn't make it set in?" Jared asks and you shrug, "honestly, no." 

You laugh and sigh, "How much longer?" 

"We're here." Zach replies and you nod, looking out the window at the building, "So is this like a bar scene? I'm not dressed for that." You joke and Alyssa laughs, "You look fine, trust me. Your sweats were the way to go." 

"I am super comfortable." You laugh as you get out, not even bothering to check your phone. 

You follow them in, handing the bouncer your ID, letting him check it before making your way in. 

The music is loud and it's filled with a few faces that you've met before, not anyone you're really willing to sit down and have a conversation with, though. 

You walk up to the bar, ordering your drink as Alyssa does the same. 

"So don't.." she laughs, "Don't tell Zach I told you this, I mean, he'd kill me if he knew you knew this.." she pauses and you nod, smiling, "secret is safe with me." 

She leans in, "Zach is actually worried about you. He's afraid that you're working yourself too much and now he's worried that this whole Sam situation will break you." 

You're actually kind of surprised, but at the same time, you're not, "I kind of thought that when he called me that night instead of just texting me.. but I'm actually really happy to hear that from someone who's close to him each day." 

You take your drink, laying down your money, "keep the change." 

Alyssa does the same and looks to you, "Just let him think that he's doing something you don't know about. I don't want him firing me." 

"I won't let that happen." You laugh, "Thank you." 

She nods and you walk back towards Zach and Jared. Right as you walk up, Zach stands up and walks way, phone pressed to his ear and he doesn't say a word. 

You furrow your brows and point to him, "What was that all about?" 

Jared sighs, "Last minute cancellation for the podcast. He's not taking it good." 

"Oh gosh, who was it?" You sit down and Jared looks to Alyssa before he leans in, "Don't say anything, but it was the triplets." 

"Chris, Nick, and Matt?" You raise your brows, "Why'd they cancel?" 

Jared shrugs, "No idea, that's what Zach is trying to figure out." You pout, "oh gosh, I have Chris' number. I can text him and see-" 

"Alright. We're good to go." Zach comes back and sits down. You look over at him, "So the triplets are coming on? They're not canceling?" 

He looks between Jared and Alyssa before tilting his head, "You're not supposed to know.. so just.." he lowers his hand in reference to you lowering your voice and you nod, "Ahh." You lower your voice, "Gotcha." 

You sip your drink and pull your phone from your pocket as you feel it vibrate, "Oh. It's Tara." 

"What did she say?" Zach says and you read over her text, "Sorry I couldn't make it to the podcast. I was super sick this morning. I just now woke up, but I'm feeling a lot better, are you still in town? Would love to meet up with you before you leave again." 

"What's the name of this place? I'm going to text her where I'm at." You look up and Jared tells you the name before you shoot her back a text. 

"She said she'll be here in an hour." You put your phone back in your pocket and look down at your empty glass, "I'll be right back." 

You get up, walking up to the bar to get another drink.

"Are you okay?" Zach asks and you look over at him, "Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?" He shrugs, "I'm just.. asking. Jeeze. Can't a guy just ask a girl if she's okay?" 

You fight back a smirk, knowing that he really cares, "Yes, Zach. I'm fine, and you.. and Alyssa and Jared have all helped me get through the day without crying." 

"Good, because I really don't think I could handle you crying.." Zach laughs slightly, "Tara said she'll be here in an hour?" 

You nod, "Yeah, she has to get ready first, I guess." 

He nods, "Of course she does." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Mm." You set your glass down, "Tara's here." 

"She is?" Jared asks shocked and you look at him funny, "That's what I just said, isn't it?" 

Jared tilts his head, "You've been around Zach for too long." He laughs and stands up, "I'll go get her." 

"No I will. I haven't seen her in so long." You stand up, but the three follow you out anyway. You glance behind you, laughing slightly as you shake your head. 

You make your way to the door and look around, "Where is she?" 

You get a text from Tara, Patio, sorry I saw someone else I haven't seen in a while. 

You look at Zach, "She's on the patio." 

"To the patio we go." He points, leading you down the side of the building. You round the corner, seeing Tara standing there with a huge smile, "Ahh!" She yells as she runs towards you, "I've missed you!" 

"Hey!" You yell and hug her, "I've missed you!" You lean back, "You look so good!" 

"Same for you miss cover of vogue!" She pushes your shoulder, "How fucking amazing is that?!" 

You nod, "Pretty amazing." 

You feel a hand on your shoulder and you think it's just Zach pulling you away to pick on Tara, but when you turn, your heart falls into your stomach, "No fu-fucking way." 

Sam is standing there, a huge smile on his face, "I couldn't go without seeing you anymore." He pulls you in for a hug, face buried into your neck and the tears you've been holding in all damn day are finally let loose. 

"Hey. Hey, hey." He lays a hand on your head, shushing you quietly, "It's okay." He turns his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "I'm here." 

You're glued to him. You want to let go so you can lean back and look at him but your body just wants to hold him. 

"I'm taking time off. I'm traveling with you. I want to be with you." Sam whispers and you lean your head back, just enough to look at him, "Really?" 

He nods, "Really. You're more important than anything in the world. We're making this work. I'm going to make it work." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The end feels kind of rushed, and I promised you guys this yesterday, but I've been battling a migraine attack non stop for the last four days, so I just wanted to get something out. 

A part 2 (with smut) is definitely in the brain for this, you know when I can get it to stop working against me. 

But as always, let me know how you liked it. Thanks for reading. I love you all! 🖤

likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[charliemwrites]

Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).

Original concept comes from @ceilidho’s military asset Soap. Further inspiration came from @391780’s Nikto version “The Summons”. Both are very good and you should definitely check out!!

Content: Post-trauma coping, Non-Con Touching and Kissing, Violence (mentioned), Unstable Soap

It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.

You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.

It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.

Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.

You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—

It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.

Laswell suggested a cat.

You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.

But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.

You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.

The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…

She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.

If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.

So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.

Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.

Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.

The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?

You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.

Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.

“Nice catch, bonnie.”

You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.

“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”

You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.

You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.

“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.

You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.

You whisper, “Soap.”

He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”

His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.

“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.

He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.

Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.

Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.

The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.

“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”

An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.

“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”

He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.

“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”

You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.

“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.

You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.

“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”

A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.

“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”

His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.

“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”

He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.

“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”

And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.

“John!”

He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.

You can get through this without pain, just think.

“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”

He grumbles. “So what?”

You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”

He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”

“You like it.”

And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.

“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”

Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.

“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”

“Squeamish?”

You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.

“A bit,” you admit.

“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”

Is that what he thinks? Christ.

You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.

“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.

“Fix it, then,” he snarls.

You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.

“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”

A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.

This… this you could work with.

[missnxthingg]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Actress!Reader (Enemies to Lovers & Fake Dating AU) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando Norris really messed up on the first time meeting one of Hollywood's newest and hottest stars, Y/N L/N. But when his reputation gets too bad, she might be the only one who can save his career from being completely doomed. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 4.5K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - SMUT & swearing 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - Four is our lucky number, so let's spice things up! As I wrote this, I could only think about the song Conflicted by Halestorm (pardon the hard rock). Hope you enjoy this one!

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𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 - 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃

Lando woke up a little lost the following morning. His cheek was pressed to the top of Y/N's head and his arms were loosely still around her waist. She was still deep into sleep when he opened his eyes. Too afraid to wake her up and having to face an awkward conversation, he stood very still, taking the first minutes of his day to look at her and think.

Whatever happened between them yesterday was weird, to say the least. People don't simply go from hating each other to being vulnerable and sharing a bed in a matter of hours. He didn't know what had got into them and it scared him how much he enjoyed the moments they shared the previous night. It scared him how good it felt to be vulnerable to her. And the feeling he got on his chest every time he looked at her was the most terrifying of them all.

Feeling a clench on his chest, Lando carefully slipped out of bed and changed into fresh clothes, did his entire morning routine and, in less than 15 minutes later, he was downstairs in the restaurant for some breakfast. Since it was so early, and everyone was still tired from the weekend, he managed to sit alone and think. The last thing he needed was company.

Eventually, the hotel started to get crowded, and a few fans were starting to recognize him among the people at the restaurant. Feeling cranky, he thought it was best for him to go back to his room and get ready for his flight later that day. Zak had already texted him, saying he hoped to have a meeting on the flight. So he needed to rest his mind.

Lando hadn't decided how to behave around Y/N yet. She was woken up by the time he arrived, but was having a shower while he was gone. He packed everything he needed while she kept the bathroom busy. She only came out ten minutes later, dressed in comfortable clothes for the flight.

“Good morning”, she opened a small smile for Lando, who didn't retribute it. 

“Morning”, he mumbled, taking his needed things for a shower.

Y/N was surprised with his behaviour, but decided not to comment on it. Who the fuck goes from cuddling to no reaction in only a few hours? Only someone as complicated as Lando Norris. 

“At what time we'll be leaving?”, she ignored how he acted and decided to act just as cold.

“We have to be at the airport at one”, he said and Y/N only nodded to his response.

But she just couldn't help herself. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Fine”, he shrugged before locking himself in the bathroom.

The rest of the trip was exactly like that. Y/N only heard Lando's voice when necessary. He only shifted his mood during the meeting he had with Zak on the plane. Not very interested in talking about racing, she chose to put on her earpods and drift away into music.

They only met again a week later, when Y/N was invited to attend the Cannes Film Festival. To not make it seem like their relationship was one-sided, they took advantage that his off weekend was supposed to be during the event. Lando met her in France, where they had booked a suite with two rooms this time, so they would only have to meet in common areas such as the living and dining room. 

What surprised Y/N was that Lando was back to his asshole behaviour once again.

“You never, ever shut up, do you?”, he sighed, taking a spot on the living room's couch.

"I'm just saying that we're late for a brunch and you're fucking sitting down, Norris", she folded her arms and puffed her chest, making sure he knew how upset she was.

"I'm not required to be at this brunch. Just need to be with you at the red carpet", Lando put his feet up on the coffee table and turned the TV on, pretending not to care. Y/N promptly removed his feet from the table.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I literally always go out of my schedule, fly out away from home, just to be at your goddamn work events, and you can't do the same for me?”

"We're not a real couple, Y/N. I don't know if you realized that", Lando squinted his eyes as he spat out the words. Words to which were daggers right across her chest.

She didn't know why it pained her so much to hear those words; to see how aggressive he was behaving. That was not the same Lando that a week ago begged for her to comfort him and pulled her closer before falling asleep. He wasn't the bubbly and happy Lando Norris she saw on track.

Trying to fight back some tears, Y/N turned her back and retreated to her room. “You do you, Norris. I'm gonna finish getting ready because, contrary to you, I care about my career”.

She had to fight really hard to not call his PR team and call this whole thing off. Lando wasn't committing to his part of the agreement, so she didn't feel like it was fair. But she washed her face, took a deep breath and got ready for brunch. By the time she was out the room, Lando was waiting dressed in a linen button up and short's, perfect for a casual spring day.

Y/N didn't say anything and carried on her way out, him right behind her. When they got to the hotel lobby, they put on their little show, with his hand on the small of her back and opening doors for her. Later that day on the internet, people were melting with the pictures of them in line for brunch, with the sweet kisses being shared between them.

But the real commotion came on the next day, when they attended a Martin Scorsese film premiere, looking like the hottest couple in Cannes. Lando dressed up in a beautiful and classic black suit, while Y/N chose a draped baby pink dress that made her feel like a goddess. When she came out of her room after hours with stylists, makeup artists and hairdressers, Lando felt the air being knocked out of his lungs and he did his best at pretending not to care.

Their fans, on the other hand, cared too much. Their names climbed up to worldwide trending topics; their picture on the red was all over Instagram. People loved how amazing they looked together. Lando and VN really could be a breathtaking couple if they were actually together. It was the perfect combo: the rising star and the sunshine athletic boy.

“A match made in hell”, he whispered in her ear as all the cameras blinded them with the flashes.

"I fucking hate you", she whispered back, and Lando felt like those words were a stab right in his chest.

Of course he knew Y/N hated him. He himself has made sure those feelings were known. But this is the first time he's heard it since the night they shared in Miami. Why does he now care that she hates him?

The words flowed so easily out of her mouth. She was angry at him. Absolutely livid by his behaviour on the previous day, or the fact that he simply pretended the last grand prix didn't happen. So if Lando was going to be petty, two can play this game.

The entire night was filled with snarky comments. Lando made sure to show how he wasn't enjoying the premiere, and Y/N had a comment for every comma that came out of his mouth. She could say anything to try pissing him off. What was making Lando angry, on the other hand, was seeing other men looking her up and down, just like a piece of meat. Didn't they have anything else better to do?

After Y/N spent good ten minutes talking to a very hot model, who was flirting with her the whole time, Lando gave up on waiting for him to leave and approached them, letting his hand go around her waist, securing her close to his body.

“Jesus, don't they realize you're taken?”, Lando mumbled, as he frowned at the model, now long gone.

"I thought we weren't a real couple. So there's nothing wrong with other men flirting with me", she provoked, feeling his fingers tighten around her waist.

“There is when, publicly, you're still mine. Or don’t you remember my one and only rule?”, you could see the red creeping up his neck. Was he actually jealous? It can't be.

“You really are a book I can't read”, she sighed, making an exit towards the theatre where the movie would be exhibited.

Thank God for long movies, because they wouldn't have to listen to each other's voices for three hours. But after a standing ovation once the credit's started rolling up, Y/N proceeded to try talking to as many people as she could at the cocktail party after the session. At the end of the day, she had talked to really important directors and producers, who in the future might think of her while doing a new project.

Lando, on the other hand, stood by her side and looked bored. He hated the film, thinking it was too conceptual for his liking, not to mention too long for a fucking boring plot. Y/N was getting angry at his behaviour and was making their deal go through the sky.

“I swear to God, if you keeping doing this, I'll call our team and end this whole fucking thing”, she complained, making him roll his eyes.

“Fuck off, you're still full on flirting with other men in front of me. I'm not the only one fucking this agreement”, by that time, they were alone in a secluded area of the party.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Norris, I'm working, not flirting, for fuck’s sake. This is the same thing as talking to sponsors. I'm not fucking flirting with any of them”, she was visibly angry at his behaviour.

“Well, it doesn't look like it”.

The fight was taken back to their hotel room and they did their best to make their discussion go unnoticed by other people. But once the doors were closed, they fought like they were married with children.

“This is disrespectful”, Lando shot when they brought up the men she talked to through the night.

“It's work, Norris. I don't know why you're so fucking jealous”.

“Because, we're in a goddamn relationship, Y/N. You can't go out all flirting with other men”.

“You said yourself we weren't in a real relationship. So why are you so jealous?”

“I'm not”, he reaffirmed, making her chuckle.

“Prove it”, she crossed her arms and daringly arched her brows.

She made every molecule of his body agitated. Once, Lando thought it was anger, for all the times they fought without having a reason and all the days she behaved like a brat, making his blood boil under his skin. Now, after the crash and the moment they shared in that tiny driver’s room, he wasn’t so sure anymore. 

He was furious; absolutely livid, without knowing exactly what he wanted. Normally, Lando is a very decisive man. But when it came to Y/N, things were just a mess in his head. And right now, looking at her with her arched brows and folded arms, almost daring him to explode at her, he knew that there was only one thing he could do to end up with the fire that was consuming him.

The next second, Lando had his lips on Y/N, furiously attacking them in the neediest kiss of all time. She was taken by surprise and actually had to wait a few seconds to reciprocate anything. She had that look on her face, provoking him into the edge, waiting for a shout that would give her a single reason to hate him. Now he’s got her on the hook and there was no way to run. Actually, Y/N didn’t actually want to run anyway.

Lando had pressed her against the wall, a leg right between her thighs, keeping them apart and their bodies close. He had a hand around her neck, and another one on her hips, securing her against the wall. The pressure he put on her throat felt delicious. No one had ever held her like that before. Her panty was soaking wet not even two seconds later.

It only felt better when he moved his kisses down, trailing them to her neck. His lips sucked on her sweet spot, right under her ear, making her moan with the hot sensation over her skin. Also, if she wasn’t turned on at that point, feeling Lando’s hard on her thigh absolutely did the job. And if he was playing a game, she knew how to dance around it as well. Quickly, one of her hands was palming him over his trousers. He moved back to her mouth, kissing her as if his life depended on it, and biting her bottom lip when the pleasure got too much for him.

“Stop it”, he moaned against her lips, making her smile. “You can only touch me when I say you can touch me”.

“Bullshit”, she dared. “Look at you, Lando. You can’t get enough of my touches. I know you want them all”.

“Fucking…”, Lando removed his knee from between her legs and helped her kneel on the ground right in front of him. He leaned forward and softly landed his hand on her chin, making Y/N look up. She tried to put her best innocent look and he was absolutely done for her. “Open your mouth, baby”.

Y/N opened her mouth for just a little bit, and Lando slipped his thumb in so she could suck on it. Then after a while, he replaced it with his middle and index finger, going in deeper and making her almost gag on his hands. Tired of playing games, he kneeled as well, levelling their eyes, before letting his hand travel to the zip on her back.

“Come on, pretty girl. I want to see you”, he left a few soft kisses on her cheek and daringly opened the zip. “Can I take this off?”, she nodded, but Lando wasn’t satisfied. “I need to hear you say the words”.

“Yes, please”, she pleaded and soon her dress was on the floor, exposing her bare tits from the lack of bra and lacy black thong. Lando didn’t waste a second before dipping his head into her nipples, sucking, biting and playing with both of them. Y/N was a moaning mess in second, pulling his head closer to her body as she felt fantastic with just his lips on her nipples. “Lan, oh my God. Please, I wanna feel you”.

“You misbehaved”, he smirked, getting away from her tits to undo his belt. “I told you not to touch me and just wait. Now, if you wanna touch me, you better open up”.

He quickly lowered his trousers along with his underwear and his hard cock came hard, slapping on his stomach. Lando was sure he could die happily at the sight of Y/N’s eyes brightening and her mouth automatically opening wider for him. “Good girl”, he praised, taking her face by the chin and bringing his cock to her lips.

Y/N’s mouth felt so warm and amazing; Lando was losing it. He started trusting his hips into her face, making his dick go deeper in her throat and her gagging sending delicious vibrations up his body. He was surprised when one of her hands grabbed his balls and massaged them, sending him over the edge just quick enough. He had to pull away before coming on her throat. Y/N pouted in the absence of his cock, still being attached to it by a string of spit and pre-cum. Lando used one of his hands to wipe it off before kissing her again.

“Baby girl, I need to last longer, and you’re not helping at all”, he whispered on her lips once again, making Y/N giggle. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was a hand sneaking into her pussy, his middle finger gathering the juices pooling on her panty. She let an audible moan out, making him know how much she was enjoying that. “Do you want my fingers?”

“Yes”, she breathed out and Lando picked her from the floor, quickly taking her to bed, where they could get more comfortable. He slowly removed her underwear and tossed it around the room, the place getting filled with her glorious smell. 

“Spread your legs wider, love”, Lando commanded and she immediately responded. “Good, just like that”. Y/N was going feral with the praise, and he got it right away. “You have a praise kink, pretty girl? Oh, that’s so sweet”.

Now that he knew that, Lando was going to put that information to use. He went back to her mouth though, this time slowing down the pace of her kiss, but the intensity was just like before. As much as he wanted to jump right in and just fuck the shit out of her, he would do anything to make this last for as long as he could. “If I am to have her for only one night, I want it to be unforgettable”, he thought.

Y/N was drunk on his kisses; feeling her soaking wet core brushing on his bare thigh and his tongue furiously sliding against hers. She just wanted to feel him, so she guided his hand to her pussy and pleaded with her eyes. Being a good boy, Lando slipped a finger inside her and pumped it inside slowly, making her lose it, throwing her head back in pleasure.

“Yes, right there. Oh my… Lando”, her hands flew to his back, fingers digging on his skin. Y/N started to roll her hips against his hand and he smiled at her attempt to feel even better. “I need more, please. One more”.

“One more finger, baby?”, Lando immediately obeyed, loving the sweet moan that came out of her mouth right after. “Come on, tell me what you want”.

“Kiss me, Lan”, she pulled his head closer to hers and her lips met his midway. Lando could’ve died happily just like that. He was getting addicted to her kisses, specially now that they were wanted and asked for. They weren’t a stunt act. They were behind closed doors. She was doing it willingly. 

“Does that feel good?”, he asked between kisses and she nodded, feeling a knot tightening around her stomach.

“I’m gonna cum”, she grunted, making him start circling her clit with his thumb. “Shit, shit. I’m cumming”.

Her pussy clenched around his finger and now he was covered with her juices. Knowing it would make her go crazy, Lando brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them, moaning at the taste of her sweetness. “God, makes me want to get it straight from the source. You taste so good, baby girl”.

Y/N sat on bed and jumped right into his neck, wrapping her arms around his head to kiss him intensely. Lando was surprised by that, but he couldn’t get enough of her kisses. He has been learning to love them for a long time now, but it was so different; so magical. 

“You want to eat me out, uhm?”, she asked him, making Lando arch his eyebrow and smile. “I asked you a question”.

“Well, I would not be opposed to it”.

“That’s not an answer, Lando”, she stopped kissing him, throwing her back against the mattress and getting comfortable between the pillows. She was not going to make him say it. He was the dominant; he wasn’t the one to say those kinds of things. But when Y/N spread her legs and started to play with herself, he just couldn’t keep it to himself.

“Fuck yes, I do. I want to eat you out, pretty girl”, he fell down, head right between her thighs, and started to trail kisses up her legs, until his lips were wrapped around her clit. If Y/N was trying to contain herself, she just couldn’t do it with how good it felt to him eating her pussy so deliciously.

But with their history, she just couldn’t help but provoke him. “You can do better than this”, Y/N dared, as if she wasn’t a moaning mess a few seconds before. And Lando wasn’t one to turn down challenges.

He pulled both of her legs over his shoulder, securing his head on her pussy and making her more comfortable. This time, he started sucking on her clit while working two fingers inside of her. He was too busy to say anything, but Y/N had a whole fucking lot to say about his work.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so good. Shit, you just know how to find the right spot. Gonna make me cum again, uhm?”, she was almost screaming in pleasure. When Lando started brushing the right spot inside of her, she felt like she was going to explode. It was different than any other orgasm she ever had in her life. She cummed so hard on his mouth, screaming his name in response.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”, Lando had a beautiful smile on his face, that was covered in her juices. “Shit, that was so perfect”.

“You did so good”, she let a hand up to his face, rubbing circles on his cheek with an adorable smile on her face. But then, her hand fell to his cock, pulling him closer to her as she jerked him. “But now it’s time for both of us to feel good”.

Lando kissed her once again, just because the kisses were an addiction by now. Her hands pumping him only made it all feel so much better. Just the thought of having her around his cock made it twitch.

“Eager much?” She smirked on his lips, but Lando didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled her legs to wrap around his torso and guided his cock to her entrance, head brushing her pussy and collecting all the wetness. Y/N moaned and whined just with the contact.

“Eager much?” He joked back before putting just the tip inside. She felt so tight around him, Lando had to take a second to put it all in, needing to push one of her legs over his shoulder, just to give him more access. “Holy fuck, you feel so good around me. Baby, so tight for me. Fuck yes”.

He had closed his eyes, but she gripped on his throat, making him look down again. “Let me see your eyes, Lan”, she asked. His ocean green blue-ish orbs met hers and he quickly wrapped one of his hands on her throat as well. 

“Say my name again”, it was his turn to ask, and she moaned with the request. “Say it”.

“Lando”, she whispered, his cock now moving delicately inside of her. 

“Louder”, he demanded, picking up the pace.

“Lando!”, she screamed, making him slammer down his cock inside her. “I want you to ruin me”.

“Your wish is my command”. Now it was a matter of honour, and Lando was going to give what she asked. So he found the best pace, keeping the movements firm, yet slow enough to not be too much.

“You’re so big, love”, she praised, brushing her hands on his cheek, making him look her in the eyes. Lando looked so pretty while trying to contain his moans to speak. “I can’t get enough of you. I’m so full”

“You take me so well, my love. Fuck me”, his movements were getting sloppier, and she could feel his cock already twitching inside of her. Y/N also noticed that he was holding back his force, trying not to overstep. 

“Don’t hold back, baby. You can use me”, she encouraged, and that was all Lando needed to hear before quickening the pace. And then, it was getting too hard for him to hold back. He wanted to last longer, but it all felt so good. Lucky enough, Y/N started to clench around him. “I’m gonna cum, Lan. Please!”

“Let’s cum together, pretty girl. Come on, we can do this”.

He glued his eyes with her, the hand on her throat not letting them break eye contact as the waves of pleasure crashed over their bodies. Y/N came first, but less than 5 seconds later, he pulled out to come on her stomach. She pumped him outside, getting him dry, while he retributed the favour with his fingers until they were both done.

Y/N had to wait a second to come back to her senses, but Lando promptly took a cloth from the bathroom and cleaned the mess he made over her. Then, too tired to function, he dropped his body over her and pressed a few kisses all over her face. It was like now that he had finally had her, he just wanted to curl up with her and forget about the whole world. And she was willing to let him do just that, because that was exactly what she wanted as well.

He fell asleep just a few seconds into their comfortable silence. Y/N continued to roll her fingers through his curls, lulling him into deep slumber, as she thought about what had just happened. It was still unbelievable in her head, but she kept replaying every moment, already missing his touch. And if her feelings for Lando were already confusing because of that night after his crash, this only made things worse. But having him sleeping on her arms, his digits digging on her skin as he clings tight onto her, made her forget about all her worries.

He woke up for just a few seconds and caught her staring at him. Instead of pretending she wasn’t looking, Y/N cracked him a smile. Lando opened an even wider smile before pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep, angel. Come on”, he got off her to turn off the lamp on the night stand, turning the room dark.

He found a spot for his head on a pillow and missed the warmth of Y/N. So he pulled her closer until she was lying on top of him. The skin to skin contact felt so intimate and comfortable for them. No fabric or cloth between them, just their bodies holding in together. And with his soft hands on her hair, Y/N fell asleep listening to Lando’s heartbeat, who had his own funny pace: quick in adoration for her, and then slow, after she calmed him down.

She would be the death of him someday.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

⤳ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @lizaschronicles @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstufff @bishhhitsaurionn @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins@riccdannyf1 @kapsylia @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r @carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny @lqvesoph @itscrzy @fangirlvibez @poppyflower-22 @livelovesports @logischeroktopus @happy-jj @saturnbloom77 @cmleitora @formulaal @secretgal66 @taisferrari-blog @ellen3101 @sunsshinesunny @eclipsedcherry @tems13 @readingbringsjoy @naanibubbletimmispeach @kenzeyeballs @alilcloudy @architect-2015 @tillyt04 @eringaitskill @honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @mxmtewnz @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @floraav @laiba26mindflay3r @books0fever @marialovesf1 @sltwins @ourteenagetragedy @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @urfavsgf @chilisandmilk @elleeeee21 @likedbygaslyy

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