#the gif was found in a search of less than ten minutes

[manybackflips]

(Misinformation) Happy anniversary to BlazBlue’s “meter” mechanic! With this mechanic, attacking your opponent or other key actions would grant you “meter,” allowing you to cancel attacks you normally can’t or other wacky things for a portion of the gauge! Some characters even have two “meters” they can fill up for special actions only capable of being done by them!

[auroralwriting]

need a hand?

bucky barnes x reader (no use of y/n)

bucky fails at being romantic on your first date.. kind of

word count: 738 | warnings: bucky being a goofball

lowkey this is the funniest fic i've ever written, enjoy silly bucky!

James Buchanan Barnes considered himself a true, old-fashioned romantic. So, when you said yes to your first date after a long friendship, Bucky knew he had to make everything perfect for you.

Being two Avengers (or whatever superheros were now called), your lives were filled with action. Bucky wanted to do something laidback, fun, relaxed. After a few Google searches, Bucky decided he'd take you to Dave and Busters for your first date.

Of course, he planned on absolutely winning you over. Sure, it was the first date, but Bucky wanted to show you how romantic he could be. Casual flirting and small touches were already established; he wanted you to swoon.

So, the day finally came for your first date. Bucky had told you to dress casually, so he did the same. He definitely tried to look his best, even if it was a casual look. By the looks of your outfit, you thought the same.

You were definitely surprised when Bucky walked you out to his motorcycle. You didn't know he rode one, so that was great news. The ride there was fun, Bucky sang loudly as you laughed. It was enjoyable.

Once you arrived to Dave and Busters, Bucky made sure to get as many tokens as he could so you both could spend all the time in the world having fun. You played games, competed for who could get the best high score, and casually made fun of each other while you played. So far, things were going great!

Then, your eye caught onto a small stuffed animal in a claw machine you just adored. It took Bucky less than five seconds to decide he was getting you that stuffed animal. So, ten whole minutes were spent in anticipation as Bucky repeatedly tried to win it for you. Of course, as all claw machines are, it was clearly rigged, dropping the toy before it hardly lifted in the air.

"I'm gonna get it," Bucky promised, swiping his card once more in the machine.

You laughed, "I'm gonna go get a drink, you keep trying, okay?"

Even after you left, another turn went wasted as Bucky failed to get the toy. So, he made a new plan, he was going to reach in and grab it.

With his metal arm stuffed up the machine, Bucky quickly realized there was no way he could reach it. So, he went to withdraw his arm when he realized it was stuck. After a few more tugs, panic settled in his core. Shit, this was bad.

"Uhm, Buck?" Shit!

Bucky turned his head to see you standing behind him, stifling a laugh. "Hey, doll,"

"Are you stuck?" You asked slowly, lips pressing together tightly in the strongest attempt to keep yourself from bursting into tears right then and there from the humor of it all.

With an awkward look, Bucky muttered, "No.."

You giggled and knelt down next to him, "Can I?" Bucky nodded with a sigh as your hands found the small buttons on his metal arm that detached it. It fell right off his body and thankfully out of the machine. Bucky stood up and reattached it, doing a full three-sixty with his arm to set it back in place.

"Were you trying to get me that stuffed animal?" You asked softly.

"I didn't wanna waste our tokens..." Bucky trailed off. You could've sworn in that moment, you had hearts for eyes.

You grabbed Bucky and lead him back to the machine, "Watch and learn, Barnes," You said smoothly as the game started up. With just one try, the toy was now in the claws grasp, falling down into the compartment for you to grab. It was safe to say Bucky was floored.

"How did you do that?" He asked as you laughed.

"It's my special talent," You answered with a confident look.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, "You know mine?" With a shake of your head, Bucky smirked slyly at you, "Do you wanna know?" Before you could answer, Bucky grabbed your waist with both hands, pulling you flesh against him as he placed a strong kiss on your lips. It was so soft, yet so smooth and passionate.

Once he pulled back, you stared at him with wide eyes and red cheeks. "That's a good talent." Bucky let out a loud laugh at your response as he kissed your knuckles.

"C'mon, doll. Show me what other games you can win for us."

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type Pt. 2

(The look on Steve’s face when he realizes what your doing 😭)

Part 1 Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,623

Summary: Your night couldn’t get any better.

Warnings: sub!bucky, no explicit smut, but suggestive themes.

Tags: @mereptt @mcira @blackhawkfanatic @misz-adrii @f-1-refly @bbhaughen

You couldn’t feel your legs. They were completely numb from the cold. Steve showed no signs of even having a chill. Meanwhile you were reduced to hobbling one leg after the other, only 5 blocks in.

Focusing on the walk, and keeping your breath even; so Steve doesn’t notice how winded you were, sobered you even more than the cold. You now realized your situation. Confidence boost drained as soon as Bucky was out of sight.

You’re grateful when traffic causes you to stop at a crosswalk. You bury your arms under each other and try to stay warm in place. Steve noticed you shivering 10 minutes ago. He didn’t have a jacket to give you so he knew making it home was the best option for warmth.

He didn’t expect to stop, and have a moment to do something about it. He quickly wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing his full body against you. Your legs were still cold but he provided more than enough heat to warm you. You didn’t mind that no words were shared between you the whole walk, he didn’t seem to either, still smiling when you made it back home.

Climbing the stairs to your door, you search for words to say. Are you both seriously going through with this? Did Steve mean it? Sweat was forming on your palms, you noticed when your keys almost slipped out of your grasp, or maybe it was the trembling.

“I-“ you begin, instantly being cut off. “We should talk, inside.” He says, and your heart drops. He regrets it, of course he does, that’s your luck. You knew it was too good to be true. “No need, I get it.” You say, dropping your head.

“I just can’t do this to Bucky.” he says, sitting down on your couch when you made it inside. You were confused, you thought you were doing this because of Bucky. “What?” Him not being into you was less confusing.

Steve sighs, “I like you, and I wouldn’t mind making you forget all about some asshole at a bar.” Your cheeks flush, you knew he meant fucking you till all you could think about was him. “If that asshole wasn’t Bucky, and I didn’t know just how much he really does care about you.”. Oh.

“Let me get this straight, you’re defending him now?” You stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. He has to look up to you. “Don’t stand there like that and yell at me, it only makes me want you more. It’s making this harder than it has to be.” You scoff, “Okay Steve, my brain is literally going to explode if you don’t start talking.” You sit down on your coffee table, letting your knees brush his.

As if this is harder for him. You were dragged into a bar to embarrass yourself by friends that meant well. You found out your work crush wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot poll. You somehow told said crush off in an alley after kissing Captain America. Your night couldn’t get any more rough.

“I know he likes you, he might deny it, but I can see the way he looks at you. He has a weird way of showing it, I know. But tonight, I just kept pushing him and I know he regrets what he said. He’s just degrading you to cope with having actual feelings.” He now takes his turn to face the ground, not being able to meet your eye.

“The way he talked about you didn’t sit right with me. I was trying to show him that looks don’t matter, we looked pretty good pressed together in that alley, and I know he saw that.” He paused, thinking over his words.

“I do like you, I don’t want you thinking any different. But I don’t want to carry on with this if Bucky still has a chance, it wouldn’t be right.” You can tell how sincere he is being, and it has you already forgiving Bucky without even receiving an apology from the man himself.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Steve.” You rub your sweaty palms on your bare knees. “I can’t just pretend like he never said that. I can see that how much your friendship means. It’s no hard feelings, really. But I wouldn’t put myself in a position where Bucky could hurt me again, if you paid me.” You laugh, getting fully used to douche bag guys.

Steve nods his head, understanding that you owe neither of the men a thing. “He would have to crawl in here on his hands and knees begging for a chance with fatty.” You shrug your shoulders, keeping your integrity.

“That could be arranged.” He smiles, breaking up the tension with dopey grin. You mentally face palm. “Go for it tiger, but I won’t be a part of it.” You give him a thumbs up, and suddenly you’re exhausted.

“Tonight’s obviously not happening, and I have to be in your office with everyone else in,” you squint at the clock on your microwave. “, 7 hours. So, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, leave my apartment Captain America.” You pat the side of his knee, reassuring him that you’re being lighthearted.

“Fine, but I will see you at 8 sharp.” He says, standing from the couch and making his way to your door. You follow behind him, needing to deadbolt it. “Why is he the way he is?” You blurt out, figuring Steve’s the only person who could answer that question.

“If you find out I’d love to know.” He throws his hands up. “People like to think I’m close to Bucky, but he never let anyone in after he was deprogrammed. Not even me, so I think he’s just having a hard time letting feelings for you in, his brain won’t let him.”.

“Why go after my weight?” You ask, as if Steve answers for him. He shrugs “Cause it was basic, and cliché. Made it seem like something was wrong with him, not you. I’ve tried to wrap my head around the new word, ‘fatphobia’ but I can’t, it seems like a personal problem that people project onto other heavier people.” How was he real? Steve Rogers continues to amaze you with every word that falls from his lips.

When Steve opens the door you both come face to face with Bucky. Standing there, having followed you home. Staying a hundred yards back, watching your every move. He stood outside and heard every word shared between you and Steve.

He knew the only thing he could do to make it right. So he did, wordlessly dropping to his knees on your doorstep. “What are you doing here?” Steve tries to interject, but you press your hand to his chest, needing him to be quiet for a minute.

You can’t break eye contact with Bucky, unable to believe what he’s doing. His eyes are red, cheeks stained with tears. A smug smile falls on your lips and you pull Steve along with you as you walk backwards. Giving Bucky room to step into the house.

He leans forward, placing both palms on the carpeted entryway. Your hand on Steve’s chest can feel the shallow breaths he was taking. But you couldn’t think to hard about him right now, Bucky was crawling on his hands and knees towards you, with giant blue puppy dog eyes, that literally leaked with regret.

Once Bucky made it to your feet, he sat back on his heels, holding his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry.”, his eyes fill with more tears, “Everything Steve said was right.” He sighs, looking over to his friend.

“I don’t know how to let people in. I’m insecure, and possibly the dumbest man alive.” He reaches out and grasps your hand, needing you to feel his sincerity. His eyes set hard, having difficulty admitting the next part, “You scare the shit out of me.”.

You let out a laugh, breaking up the tension in the room. “I scare you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as loud as it did, but you were still upset. He nods, pressing his eyebrows together. “Yes.”. He comes closer to you, till his chest bumped against your knees. He held both hands now, “Please, forgive me, I’ll do anything. You’re the only person in this new world that makes me feel, anything. After I was deprogrammed, you were the only thing that felt normal, like home. Not Brooklyn, the past.” He takes your stoicism as an invitation to rest his hands on your thighs, wanting to physically connect with you while he rips himself open.

“The way you smelled of honeysuckles.” He presses his face against your stomach, inhaling deeply. “Red lipstick always on hand, making your smile brighter than any I’d ever saw. The way you walked up to me on your first day, so brave and confident. You remind me of home and it’s scary.”.

Your heart sank. This whole time, this is how he felt? All the harsh staring and denial was just, homesickness? You look down and feel yourself begin to feel guilty, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. “I didn’t know.”.

Steve, who had stayed silent this whole time, face set in stone, finally speaks up. “No, you didn’t know. So don’t feel bad. Again, it’s his fault for being dumb.” He steps closer to the two of you, starting to feel possessive over you. He wasn’t going to let Bucky get by with a half hearted apology. He could tell he was holding something back.

“I don’t believe it, you’re scared of her because she’s perfect for you?” He squats down to Bucky’s level, trying to intimidate him. Bucky looks between you, not sure if he should answer him. You raise your brow, letting him know Steve peaked your interest.

“Everything I’ve ever known or loved is gone, relics of the past. I’m scared that you might go away too, if you got too close to me.”.

Steve was visibly hurt. Did he not remind Bucky of home? He’s known Bucky his whole life, why couldn’t he let him in? He knew Steve wasn’t going anywhere. The Captain stayed silent, knowing tonight was about the hurt Bucky caused you, not him. He would pay for Steve’s emotional wounds later.

Before he can plot anything in his mind he’s being pulled up from the floor by you. “What do you think his punishment ought to be, huh Stevie?” When he looked at your face all he could see was deviance. Playing along, he pinches his chin in thought. “Hmm, you know, I’d hate to leave without finishing what we started earlier.”. He spins you to face him, letting his hands find the curve of your ass.

“I like that idea.” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your raise yourself up on your tippy toes and kiss him, tangling your fingers in his hair. You hear a whine from the floor beside you. Bucky’s face is red and you can tell he’s confused. “You sit there and be a good boy, then I’ll forgive you and maybe even let you touch me.”. You say, letting both Steve and Bucky know, you’re not the same person in the bedroom.

You loved degrading men. In your everyday life you might come across as sweet, unsuspecting, inexperienced. But you weren’t, there’s no shortage of men wanting a woman to dominate them. You’d never had the pleasure of using one this far out of your league.

Tonight, you were going to take advantage of it. Seeing Bucky crawl on his hands and knees lit a fire inside of you. You didn’t need to hear his apology at that point. Everything after it was pure showmanship. The performance of your life.

The morning came before you knew it. Your 7am alarm blaring through your studio apartment. Steve and Bucky left earlier, waking you up with goodbye kisses, but your foggy, half asleep brain barely registered that they left. You wore your hair down today, letting last nights curls be free. You didn’t opt for makeup, knowing the intense winter training would melt it off anyways.

When you make it to work, you see a lot of sunglasses. “Is everyone hungover?” You ask Natasha who’s nursing a black coffee. “Almost everyone.” She nods towards the two super soldiers standing behind Steve’s desk.

You blush when Steve gives you a wide smile, hoping no one in the office noticed. But of course Wanda senses the change in your footsteps and the buzzing reverberating off of you. She sits beside you in the semicircle of chairs, leaning over to whisper “I’m gonna need details.” She nudges her shoulder with yours, teasing you.

Before you could retaliate, Steve starts the debrief. “Winter training, gotta love it.” The whole room groans as Steve laughs. “I won’t keep you too long, I know you all have a long day ahead of you. But I like to think a good ole pep talk is the best thing for a team.”.

You roll your eyes. You liked Steve, but boss Steve was exhausting. You press your forehead on Wanda’s shoulder, you both hated this cringy kind of thing. “I’d like to remind you all why we train so vigorously. Teamwork. We all preform better together. We have to constantly be adapting to eachother, our strengths, and weaknesses.” He looks into each of your coworkers eyes, trying to drive his point.

“We change, just like the seasons, so pay special attention to your training partner today. They might teach you something new.” The inspirational speech was enough to have you wanting to go back home and go back to sleep, something you only received 3 hours of.

“Wanda, Sam, and Bruce, I want you guys down at the lake. Yelena, Natasha and Clint, go to the helipad, further instruction will be waiting.” He looks at the tablet infront of him, reading off bullet points.

“Y/N, Bucky and I are scheduled to be in the gym. Peter and Vision are already with Tony and Rhodes in the lab. Any questions?” He dismisses everyone after that. He changed it. So smoothly that no one noticed, you’d been scheduled to be at the lake with Wanda and Bruce. Of course Sam wouldn’t protest the change up, Steve just had to ask nicely.

When everyone shuffled out of the room, Wanda reminded you she wanted details over lunch later. Once everyone was gone you were suddenly aware that you were left alone with them. You were blinded by lust last night, not realizing the position you put yourself in. Were you with Bucky now? His confession was pretty serious. Were you with both of them? Was it a one night stand? Are they done with you now that they’ve had their fun? A million questions ran through your head while you waited by the door.

“Ready?” Bucky opens the door for you, ushering you into the hallway. You give him a tight lipped smile, not knowing how to interact with him not on his knees. You definitely weren’t the same person in the bedroom. Your regular self was awkward and embarrassingly nice at times. Would either of them still want you, once they see how different you could be?

They knew you before, and even liked you before. But now they have something else to base it off. Was your dominance too much for a long term thing with them? You have a feeling you’re about to find out, as you all pile into the small room with a wall of mirrors and elliptical.

[lyjen]

Bad Luck, Good Luck

Summary: Evan and (Y/n) are neighbors, nothing more, nothing less. At least that’s what Evan thinks they are, (Y/n) sees him more than that. When (y/n) discovers that Evan has a girlfriend, she knows she can’t handle seeing him with another girl and decides to move. But what if Evan finds her diary?

Request by: anonymous - The request

9-1-1 masterlist

Taglist: @oliviah-25 @shauna-carsley 

An annoyed groan fell off (Y/n)’s lips as she felt her phone buzzing and the ringtone sounding through the air. She searched the small compartments of her bag, finally fishing out her phone out of the bag as she swipes her finger along the screen to accept the phone call. She pressed the phone to her ear “(Y/n)” she said with a little annoyed tone overruling her voice.

Everything that could go wrong, went wrong this morning. She had overslept, couldn’t seem to get her hair into form, stained the outfit she had gotten on but didn’t have time to put anything else on and at last but not least, being stuck in Los Angeles traffic on her way to work.

She was now on her way to pick up the coffee order from some colleagues from the office she worked at. Her hand reached out for the door of the coffeeshop, as she pulled the door open and stepped over the threshold. “I’m sorry sir! I just entered the shop to get your coffee, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She said, An annoyed male voice replied back through her phone and abruptly hung up the phone.

Another sigh fell off her lips as she slid the phone back into her bag and got in line to pick up the coffee order. (Y/n) didn’t like the job she did. But it paid well, and she really didn’t know what kind of job she wanted to do. She never knew. No job really spoke to her..

“Sounds like you have a rough day already” a familiar voice sounded through her ears as she scanned her surroundings to find the voice. It wasn’t until he turned his body towards her as she could connect a name to that voice. It was Evan, her neighbor.

With a small smile projected on his face, his eyes found hers. “Tell me about it” she sighed as she slid her hand through her hair, trying subtly to make it look kind of decent. “Slept through my alarm and stained my outfit, not really my best day and look” she said as she pointed at the stain on the chest part of her beige button up shirt.

“Yet this is one of your best looks” Evan says before he could even realize what he said. Maybe a little bit too flirty than he wanted it to sound. “N-Not that you’ve ever looked bad!” He tried to correct himself as he felt his cheeks starting to burn. “And not that I always check the way you look when you walk out the door..” he sighs as he realizes he’s making a fool of himself.

“And.. god I should stop. I sound like a stalker..” he awkwardly smiles as he rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

A smile was spread over (y/n)’s face as he tried to save himself. It was kinda cute the way he was trying to talk himself out of it, the way he smiled at her when he knew he couldn’t talk it right. A small giggle fell off her lips as she nodded. “It’s okay, I know you’re not a stalker..” she smiled down at the ground for a second before she looked back at Evan again. “Just… a neighbor..” she continued.

“Good” he chuckled softly as he dropped his hand down to hold the strap his radio was attached to. “Anyways, if you’re already late.. Why are you here getting coffee?” he asked, confused as he pointed to the signs of the shop hanging around in the space.

She laughed “Part of the routine, and one of the tasks I got from my boss” she nodded, she wasn’t too proud of that part of the job either. “Hmm, assistant job?” Evan asked her as he saw the way he looked back down again. “Yeah.. nobody at the office knows my name but whenever they need coffee, they suddenly know where to find me” she laughs it off as she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hey, It’s okay if you still have no clue what you want to do for work.” Evan said as he noticed the way she wanted to get rid of the subject. ”I didn’t know I wanted to be a firefighter until I was twentysix, and after I traveled the country trying out so many jobs.” he continued as he tried to motivate her to not give up. “You traveled the country?” She asked, not sure if he was for real or not.

“Oh yeah, I was a mixologist, construction worker, worked at a ranch and I even joined the Navy Seals for a bit” he said. “You? Working at a ranch?” she laughed. “Yeah, not my finest moment. But I was just trying to figure out who I was” he laughed with her as he held up his hands.

When the laughs stopped filling the space, it went silent. It was nice to talk to someone who also had the same problem as she has right now. But except, he found his calling and she didn’t.. At least not yet.

It was silent, but not the kind of silent where it’s awkward. It was comfortable.

“Order for Buck?” The barista behind the pickup counter said, as his head shot towards the pickup counter as he heard his name. “Yeah that's me” he said as he stepped forward, taking a step towards the counter.

(Y/n) looked around as she waited for her order to be made. “I’ll cover for whatever she orders too.” Evan’s voice sounded through her head as he handed over the money to the barista.

“No.. Evan. I really can’t ask you to do that..” she said as she saw Evan getting the two trays filled with coffee. Evan glanced over to (Y/n) as he balanced the coffee on both his hands.

“You didn’t ask, I offered it. And.. it seemed like you needed some good luck today” He gave her a small smile as he connected his elbow softly with her upper arm. “Guess I owe you now” she smiled.

“Yeah.. I guess you do. But I have to go now.. the team gets grumpy when they don’t get a cup of good coffee before a call” he laughed. She gave him a nod, “See you around” he said as he walked past her.

The entrance bell rang as he pushed the door open. “Oh and by the way..” his voice sounded through the coffeeshop as he was standing in the doorway. ”You can call me Buck”

______

(Y/n) opened the door to the archive room, her boss gave her the assignment to go and clean the archive room since it was a mess. And he was right. Her eyes slowly scanned the space before she stepped over the threshold, and looked around the small space that wasn’t much bigger than a janitor's closet.

A smell of stale, like she walked into an old person’s home was floating through the air and made its way up her nose. There was no window, so she let her hand feel against the side of the wall and searched for the lightswitch. When she found the switch, she flicked it on

It was like she went ten years back in time when she stepped over that threshold. As if she stepped into a time machine. There were loose papers spread over the floor, folders with important documents spread over the small table, boxes with more folders and papers stacked into a storage rack.

A sigh fell off her lips as she looked around. She was an assistant, she wasn’t a warehouse employee or a maid. But she needed this job to pay for her rent, she could look for her dream job or purpose while she worked. The best she could do right now is: do her job, do what they ask to do and nod and say yes.

“Where to begin..” she mumbled as she closed the door behind her so she wouldn’t be a burden to anyone. She decided to start with clearing the table, so she had space to organize lost papers which were everywhere.

But after a few minutes of starting she decided to grab her headphones out of her bag to make it fun. Music always does the trick. She folded out the headphones as she turned the wireless headphone on and put on some music and continued organizing the papers.

One by one she went through all the boxes and started to reorganize them. When (Y/n) carries another box from the shelf, suddenly the lights turn off. “What the hell?” she mumbles with a confused frown projected on her face, she looks around. She placed the box she was just carrying on the ground and slid her headphones off her head and ears and let it rest on her shoulders and around her neck.

Alarms were beeping and screaming as she pushed the headphone off her ears. She felt her heartbeat racing as adrenaline was floating through her body. Her hand found the doorknob, when she turned it and pulled the door towards her the whole floor she was on had already been evacuated. “For fuck sake” the words fell off her lips as she looked around the floor and the light smell of smoke entered her airways.

She ignored the smoke smell and walked fast towards the indicated emergency route. But when she swung the door open a smother of thick gray smoke was blown into her face. Multiple coughs left her mouth as she closed the door as soon as possible. She was trapped. The fire probably came from a few floors below her, and there was no way she could get through that smoke, not even with a piece of fabric in front of her mouth and nose to filter out the smoke.

(Y/n) slid her phone out of her pocket, and her fingers went straight to the green button with a phone projected on it. She dialed the three numbers everyone in the whole wide world had memorized. 9-1-1. and held her phone against her ear.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a female voice spoke over the phone as she picked up. “I’m stuck on the nineteenth floor of the Hound co. office on central street! A-and I don’t know what to do” a small cough interrupted her sentence as she spoke to the lady on the phone. (Y/n) was starting to panic as she came to the realization that there wasn’t a way out for her.

“It’s okay, we’re gonna get you out of there. Units are already on their way.” The woman on the phone tried to calm down (Y/n). “What’s your name ma’am?” The woman continued as she tried to gather as much information as possible. “(Y/n)” she coughed, the smoke was entering the room more and more. It was stinging her eyes and made it hard to see.

“I’m Maddie, Is there anything you can hold in front of your nose and mouth to prevent you from inhaling smoke? A fabric like a t-shirt, jacket, maybe a towel?” Her voice was so calm and reassuring.

“Yes I think I have a scarf tied around my bag” she coughed. “That’s great. If you have it, hold it in front of your nose and mouth” Maddie, the woman on the phone instructs her. (Y/n) unties the scarf from the bag and does whatever she told her to do.

“Now, we want to get you as far away as possible from the smoke. Do you see a fire escape? There must be some kind of stairwell” Maddie asks through the phone. “I looked there just a minute ago and it was filled with smoke. I can’t go through there!” (Y/n) spoke as she walked back towards the staircase.

“(Y/n) I know it's scary, but I need you to go higher.” Maddie’s voice spoke through the speaker of the phone. “I’m here with you and I’m not leaving until help arrives.”she continues. (Y/n) closed her eyes for a brief second as she looked up at the ceiling. She squeezed her eyelids together as she shook her head. “Okay'' she cried as she felt her eyes burning, not only from the tears, but from the smoke in the room.

“Now, go and look for the fire escape” Maddie ordered, and (Y/n) went straight towards the door of the stairwell. “Okay, I’m back at the door of the fire escape” she said as a small cough left her mouth. (y/n) pulled the door open and a wave of smoke was blown again into her face. Immediately she looked down, searching from what floor the fire was coming. “I think the fire is coming from one of the floors below me!” she tried to say between coughs and she pressed the fabric tighter to cover her nose and mouth. “(Y/n) I need you to go up”

Just as (Y/n) wants to turn to go up the staircase, her eyes fall down onto something that probably wasn’t supposed to be there. It was a hand. Quickly (Y/n) stepped down the stairs to make sure there wasn’t anyone else trapped. “Oh my god” she mumbled through the fabric of her scarf as her eyes found a woman’s body down onto the ground, lifeless.

“There’s someone else down here!” she said as she kneeled down next to the woman. “In the stairwell?” Maddie asks. “There’s a woman, I think she may have fallen when she tried to get out of here!” she coughed as the smoke became thicker and thicker with the second.

“Can you tell If she’s still breathing?” the voice on the phone asked. She held her hand which was holding her phone in front of the woman’s face as she felt a small breath of air tickling her skin. “I think she’s still breathing!” she concluded as she held the phone against her ear again so she could hear Maddie talking.

“Okay, we’re not leaving her behind. Here’s what you need to do..” Maddie spoke as she explained the way to help and rescue the unconscious woman. Maddie gave her the instruction to tie the scarf she had pressed against her nose and mouth, around her head so it would still hold back some of the smoke.

(Y/n) rolled the woman onto her back and pushed her up so she was sitting up. She got behind the woman as she grabbed her wrists and lifted her up to her feet. The chest of the woman was pressed against (Y/n)’s back so she could bend her knees and lift her weight onto her shoulders and back.

“What now?” she groaned as she carried the weight of the woman on her back and shoulders. “Move, as fast as you can. Go up, there should be less smoke a few floors up.” Maddie instructed her. “Okay. Heading up!” she groaned at every step she took.

“I’m at twenty one” she coughed, with every breath of air she felt her lungs take less and less air. As if the smoke that went into her lungs had taken the place of the oxygen. Her world was spinning around her, black and white dots were dancing around her vision at every step she took. “Just a few more (Y/n). You can do this.” Maddie tried to motivate her.

“I-.. I can’t..” she stumbled over her words as she felt her knees cave in. “I’m sorry Maddie” she coughed and cried. “It’s okay. If you can, exit the stairwell and find a wall to slide the woman down off your back.” she said.

But before she could do that, her vision went totally black, her vision was taken over by the black and white dots. She could feel her body fall down onto the concrete stairwell, as the body of the woman fell down onto hers, completely crushing her body.

“(Y/n)? Are you still there?”

“Captain Nash, be advised, there are two women in the stairwell on the twenty first floor, unconscious. Name of one of the women is (Y/n).” Maddie’s voice came through the radio as the team stepped out of the truck.

Evan’s hand reached out to the compartment door to get out the oxygen tanks but froze, as his heart dropped down in his chest. That name. That damn’ name. He knew it could be a hundred or thousand other people with that name, but something told him it was her. His neighbor.

“Copy that, dispatch” Bobby spoke into his radio as he pressed the button to speak. “Chimney, Buck and Eddie, you three go in and get those two victims. Hen, you go and start triage, Chimney will join you after.” Bobby ordered his team that was nodding.

Evan, Eddie and Chimney all three put an oxygen tank on their back as they got ready to get into the office building.

“Almost there! One more floor!” Eddie said as Evan was still full speed stepping on those stairs as if it did nothing to his breathing. Chimney was panting as he was pulling himself up with the help of the railing like it would help him gain more energy and oxygen.

“(Y/n)!” Evan called out as he almost reached the twenty first floor, trying to get a reaction out of her. There was still a chance she would’ve gained consciousness in those minutes they were rushing up the stairs. “LAFD! Call out!” Eddie’s voice followed up Evan’s yell.

Evan’s eyes fall onto the numbers written on the wall. Twenty one, with the door towards the office floor next to it. Evan’s eyes scanned the stairwell as he stopped in his tracks, but when he heard a groan his eyes shot up and he let his legs carry him a few steps higher.

“Ma’am LAFD, we’re here to help!” Evan said as he could see two female bodies collapsed on top of each other. Slowly the woman gained consciousness. “Oh my god” she stumbled as she realized she was crushing (Y/n)’s body.

“It’s okay, let's get you out of here and checked out, alright?” Evan said as he helped the woman to her feet so she wouldn’t be crushing his neighbor anymore. Evan grabbed both of the woman’s hands to support her weight, as he handed her carefully over to Eddie.

Evan quickly kneeled down next to (Y/n) “(Y/n) can you hear me?” he said once more. But when he didn’t receive a reaction to his question, he took off his glove and slid the scarf she had wrapped around her nose and mouth down to her neck.

He pressed his index and middle finger tight against each other and pressed them against her neck. After he found her pulse and it seemed normal, he held his hand in front of her nose as he checked her breathing. “Pulse seems normal, but her breathing is short” Evan says as he looked at Chimney.

“Must have been because of the amount of smoke. Let’s get them both out of here!” Chimney concluded, as he helped Eddie to support the woman. “You got her Buck?” Chimney asks as Eddie and the other woman slowly start to make their way down. “Yeah, I got her.” Evan says as he nodded at Chimney.

Twenty one floors to carry someone was a hell, but if she was unconscious he had no other choice. They couldn’t get the gurney up there, not when the fire was still roaring over one of the floors. Evan carefully turned her so she was on her back, and slid his left arm underneath her lower back and his right arm underneath her knee cavity.

Her body became heavier at every step he took to get from the twenty first floor back to the ground floor. His arms were losing power, but he couldn’t stop, he had to push through the pain. He could hear soft groans and falling from her mouth.

“I need a gurney over here!” Evan panted as he got out of the doors of the building. Chimney comes running down with the gurney, and Evan carefully places (Y/n) onto it. Once she was on the gurney, Evan ripped off his oxygen mask, revealing his blonde curls and sweaty face.

“Let’s get her into the ambulance.” Chimney said. Evan placed one hand down onto her knee as he placed his right hand onto hers, giving her a slight squeeze to let her know he was there, walking next to the gurney to help her get to the ambulance.

A groan fell off her lips as she tried with all her energy to open her eyes. “It’s okay.. I’m here with you” Evan’s voice sounded through her ears. She could feel Evan’s hand softly squeezing her hand.

Her hand tightened around Evan’s hand as she felt his hand loosening around her hand. Evan wanted to let go, so she could get to the hospital.

“Buck..” she stumbled as a loud cough left her throat, and she looked at him through the small space between her eyelids.

The way she tiredly called out his name, made his heart skip a beat. Evan had a feeling she wasn’t going to let go of his hand sooner or later. He felt the eyes of Chimney burning into his skin as they waited for Evan to make a choice.

“I’m here (y/n). I’m not going anywhere.” He softly said as he got in the back of the ambulance.

She didn't know him at all. Only that he was her neighbor. But she trusted him. That was all that she needed right now.

_____

(Y/n) closed the door behind her as she held the garbage bag in her other hand. In the corner of her eye she could see a silhouette appearing, when she turned around to proceed her way to get rid of the garbage bag she met those ocean blue eyes again. He was holding a moving box in his hands, as a spooked look was projected onto his face. As if he had seen a ghost, or something or someone he didn’t want to walk into.

There was a silence between the two of them, “You’re not moving out right?” (Y/n) decided to break the silence as she pointed at the box Evan was holding. “What?” Evan said as a confused look took over his face now, but quickly remembered that he was holding a moving box. ”No! It’s just..-” his sentence was cut off by a female voice filling the space of the hallway. “Hey we probably have to cull as we unpack. Oh-” The female voice stopped speaking as she walked into the hallway, finding Evan talking with (Y/n). With her keys in her hand she stopped in her tracks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were chatting with one of your neighbors” she said.

(Y/n)’s eyes wandered from the woman she didn’t know, to Evan and back, trying to connect the dots. Evan just stayed silent as he held his eyes locked onto the box he was holding. “I believe we haven’t met yet..” The woman came closer to (Y/n) “I’m Taylor, Buck’s girlfriend.” she says as she reaches out her hand, inviting (y/n) to shake hers.

Her eyes went wide as she surprisedly repeated the one word that triggered her. “Girlfriend?” she said as she collided her hand into Evan’s girlfriend and shook it. Her voice sounded surprised, but she tried her best to sound as normal as possible, even if that was possible. Not after he dropped a bomb on her like that. She smiled awkwardly as she glanced over to Evan and back to Taylor. “I’m (Y/n), Buck’s neighbor and just a friend” she said as she gave Evan one fast glance again.

“So you’re moving in?” (Y/n) asked Taylor as she pointed at the box Evan was still holding. “Seems like it, doesn’t it?” Taylor smiles as she takes place to stand next to Evan. (Y/n) could swear she was going to be sick. How did Evan not mention this to her? That he had a girlfriend who was going to move in with him? How is that something that you’d keep out of your conversations?

(Y/n) smiled at the both of them “So, how did the two of you meet?” (Y/n) asked as she felt a silence coming up. “Well, Buck and his team rescued me from a crashed helicopter a few months ago actually. Just another day on the job, isn’t that right?” Taylor answered as she smiled at Evan, curling her hands around his upper arm.

“Wow, I’m sure that must’ve been scary for you” (Y/n) said as she glanced every now and then at Evan, he was quiet. That was nothing for him, he always wants to join in with conversations. “Yes it was, but luckily we’ve got LA’s finest fire and rescue to save us. It wasn’t love at first sight, but we found each other back” Taylor said as she glanced up at her boyfriend, who was pretty much focussed on the cardboard box which he was still holding in his hands.

The smiles and awkward laughing came to a stop, as a silence filled the room again.

“How are you? How are your lungs?” Evan suddenly asked after a few loud minutes of silence. (Y/n)’s eyes wandered towards Evan’s. “I’m doing fine, thanks. I’ve had some extra follow up exams but my doctor says that my lungs sounded clear” (Y/n) explained to Evan. “Good, happy to hear you’re going good” Evan nodded as he could feel himself slip away and drown into her eyes.

Taylor’s face had gone from smiling to a confused look. (Y/n) guessed Evan probably never mentioned rescuing his own neighbor from a fire. “I got stuck in a fire a week back..” (Y/n) said as she looked at his girlfriend, explaining the situation. “And Buck.. well he saved me” she continued as she quickly glanced at Evan. (Y/n) received a quiet “oh” from the woman and she nodded.

“Um, did they find some kind of emergency building to work in?” Buck asked as he clarified the situation to Taylor. A small laugh left (Y/n)’s mouth “Funny you should ask.. Um, I don't know. I quit the job” she said as she looked down at the floor, which was really interesting to her right now.

Evan’s eyebrow furrowed, he didn’t expect her to drop her job like that. “Oh.. I’m so.. sorry. I had no idea.” Evan apologizes to her. “It’s okay.. really. I wanted to quit anyway.” she quickly said as she wanted to get rid of the subject as soon as possible.

Another silence filled the hallway.

“Anyways! It was so nice to meet you Taylor.” (Y/n) said as she gave her a small nod and slowly backed away from the couple. “But.. I’ve got to.. uh go.. do that.. uh.. thing!” she continued, she quickly slid the key to her home out of her pocket and unlocked the door. “See you later?” Buck quickly asked as she opened the door to her apartment. (Y/n) hummed a fast “yes” and closed the door with a bang.

She was still holding the trash bag in her hand, but threw it through the room to release her anger. She let her back fall against the front door of her apartment and slowly let her head bounce against the door. With her eyes squeezed closed, she bawled her fist along her side of her body and let it bang against the wooden door.

This couldn’t be happening.

______

Evan slides the oven rack with the dish filled with fresh lasagna towards him, checking if his dinner is ready to be served.

But his head shot up at the sound of his doorbell ringing. He quickly slides the rack back into the oven as he shuts the door close and throws the towel he used onto the kitchen counter. He quickly walked to the door, and swung the door open as he was within range.

His eyes spotted an older man standing in front of his door. Evan simply greeted him when he saw the man. “Hello, my name is Wright, I’m your new neighbor from next door.” the man says. Evan’s eyes furrowed in surprise. “Oh yeah, I’m Buck. Welcome to the neighborhood” Evan introduces himself to the man.

It has been months since (Y/n) moved out of the apartment next door, she told Evan that she found a new job and had to move to Berkeley. Which wasn't a lie, technically. After everything that happened to her, she found a new purpose, and needed a new beginning.

But the one thing she didn’t tell anyone was her main reason why she left. She left Los Angeles, and her apartment was because she knew she couldn’t bear to see Evan with another woman. She knew that she would be suffering every awaking second, as she saw Taylor and Evan together.

After the office building fire, she was desperate to help people and to show people that she in fact was intelligent and useful. The people at the office treated her like she was stupid and used her for the most simple tasks. She wanted to prove herself, so that is what she’s going to do. She moved to Berkeley to start medical school at the University of California.

Evan has also broken up with Taylor a couple of weeks ago. Taylor promised Evan that she wouldn’t run the Jonah Greenway story, but eventually betrayed him by doing it anyway. After they spend some time avoiding each other, Evan and Taylor parted ways.

“I came here to ask if you knew the previous neighbor?” Wright asks Evan. He nods as her smile flashes through her mind again. “Yeah, I did” he says with a soft smile projected on his face.

“Good, because he or she left this behind and I wanted to give it back to its rightful owner” the new neighbor says as he holds up a book. The book he’s holding looks used, as if it had lived a long life.

His soft smile morphed into a confused look that was written all over Evan’s face. “I was wondering if you could get in touch with the owner to return it.” Wright says as he fiddles with the book in his hands.

“Oh yeah, sure. I can do that.” Evan answers Wright as he nodded. ”Really? That’s awesome, thanks” his neighbor says as he hands over the book to Evan, who gladly takes it off his hands.

“I’d better get going, have lots to unpack. Let me know if you got it back to the owner” Wright says with a smile written on his face. “I will. Oh and once again, welcome to the neighborhood” Wright sends Evan a small smile and walks away from the door. Evan gives the door a slung so it would close on its own.

Evan inspects the book that was in his hands. It wasn’t like a book to read, it looked more like a notebook to him. When Evan turns the book around to look at the back, he stops in his tracks as something hits the floor. A folded piece of paper.

Another confused look was on his face. He squats down and grabs the piece of paper from the ground. Evan wants to put back the paper in between the pages of the book, but then his eyes fall onto his own name. Written down onto the paper. What the hell?

He had so many questions. Why was his name onto this piece of paper? What was this book? Was it some kind of diary or was it just a book? Was she writing about him? And if so, why was she writing about him? A thousand questions were running through his mind right now.

Evan stands up straight again as he places the book onto the kitchen island. He leaned with his forearms onto the island as well as he turned the piece of paper multiple times, as if it was magically going to show something new.

He can’t open this, right? It’s someone’s private property. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to find this after all. Evan is in a fight with himself, but after minutes of debating and a hundred times turning the folded paper, he decides to open it. His heart was starting to race as he unfolded the paper and he let his fingers trace along the ripped off side of the paper.

Evan,

I don’t even know where to begin, I don’t even know if I will have the guts to send this to you. Maybe this letter will always stay in my diary. I have written this letter already a hundred times, but I can’t seem to find the right words. I have so many things to say, but yet, I can’t get them on paper. Everything I write down seems to be wrong.

Maybe it’s the feeling of seeing you with her, while I try to push my real feelings down. Only to see you happy. Because that’s what I want. I want you to be happy, because that’s what you deserve.

I wanted to be happy for you, when I walked into you and Taylor in the hallway. I wanted to tell you that seeing you and her together, didn���t do anything to me. But I’d be lying if I said that. The truth is… every time when I see you glance a smile at her or even holding her hand, a part of me is dying on the inside. I tried to put on a mask, and to turn into someone else every single time when I walked past you. But it just got harder from time to time.

It’s like I’m underwater, I’m trying to hold my breath and I’m not coming up until this all is over. But I’m suffocating. And that’s why I’m leaving Los Angeles.

I hate the way my heart makes a jump when you glance back at me, or the way my name falls off your lips. The feeling you give me by only standing there, and telling me it’s going to be okay. Or the way you somehow managed to become my lucky charm.

There’s a lot more I want to say… But I’m ending this letter. Because, how could you ever feel the same, we were just friends. Neighbors. Nothing more, right?

- (Y/n)

Evan let his free hand press against his forehead as he reads the last sentence of the letter he found. He felt so stupid, how could he be that stupid and miss all the signals…

______

(Y/n) grabs her cup as she takes a sip from her tea and writes down the last important thing from her study book. A sigh falls off her lips as she hears a knock on the door. She quickly places the cup of tea on the wooden dining table as she pushes the chair back and starts walking towards the front door. Another loud knock on the door was sounding through the apartment as the person in front of the door apparently became impatient. “Yeah yeah! I’m coming!” she spoke loud enough to reach the front door. “Jesus” she mumbled under her breath as she reached the door.

“Buck?” his name fell off her lips as she opened the door and she was once again drowning into those ocean blue eyes. The one she recognizes out of a thousand. “Hey” he simply said, as she leaned against the half open front door of her new apartment.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, with her eyebrows furrowed. How did he find out where she lived?

“I think you forgot something when you left Los Angeles” Evan says as he magically pulled out her book and held it up like it was some prize she could win. "My diary.." She sighs as a smile develops itself onto her face. He holds out her diary, waiting for her to accept it.

She gently accepts the diary he was holding in his hands, “How did you find this?” she asks as she opens the diary, scrolling through the pages, searching for the letter that was meant for Evan. “My new neighbor came to me. Claiming that he found something, and he wanted to give it back to its rightful owner. So he asked me to give it back, since I told him that I knew you.” he explains as a confused look was spread over Evan’s face, while hers looked like she was about to panic.

“Something wrong?” Evan softly asks her as she continues to hurriedly go through all the pages of her diary. A nervous laugh exits her mouth as the panic was written in her eyes and all over her face. “I’ve looked everywhere for my diary, there was something important in it” she said as she closed the diary.

Evan looked down at his feet, as he nodded. “You mean this?” Evan asks as he slid out the ripped piece of paper out of his pocket. The panic in her eyes remained as she saw what he was holding up in between his index and middle finger. “You found it” she sighed as she silently with only a motion asked Evan to come inside.

“You weren’t supposed to find that..” she mumbled as she placed her diary onto her dining table, which was covered in study books and notebooks. “And I suppose I wasn’t supposed to read it either?” he asks as she suddenly starts to close all of the books on her dining table.

The only sound right now sounding through the room were study books and notebooks which were closing. “(Y/n)..” Evan sighed as she closed another book with a bang.

He firmly placed his hands onto the book she wanted to close, as he tried to make eye contact with her. “When were you going to tell me this? or send me this?” he asks. (Y/n) doesn’t make eye contact with him as she stopped in her movement. “Never…” she mumbled, barely audible.

(Y/n) let go of the book as she turned her back to Evan. Both her hands were curled up in fists. She squeezed her eyes closed as she felt Evan moving closer to her. “That letter.. was only to vent. Nothing more, nothing less.” she says.

A scoff left Evan’s mouth. It wasn’t just a vent. Everything she wrote down on that piece of paper was real, every feeling, every emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me that Taylor and I were your main reason you left Los Angeles?” he straight to the point asked her.

She softly closed her eyes, trying anything to stop the tears from leaving her eyes. The silence was deafening. Evan didn’t want to start a war, he just wanted answers. He placed his hand onto her shoulder, to give her some comfort. “I wanted you to be happy, because you deserve that. But I couldn’t stay, because if I did it would’ve ruined me even more” her trembling voice said as she turned around to face Evan.

“You were one of the things that makes me happy. The way you make fun of me. Or the way you never fail to make me smile. Sometimes you’d make me nervous and I’d forget what I wanted to say or I would stumble over my words..” He says as he placed his hand on her upper arm. “You are the one that makes me happy.” He continued.

“Buck…” she sighed as she sobbed through her smile. “It’s okay” he said as he took a step closer to her, they were so close. He could feel her breathing tickling his skin, and hear her breathing become faster within the second.

“There’s something else you forgot in Los Angeles..” he panted as their foreheads touched and their noses were inches away from each other. “And I’m not talking about your diary..” he continued as he softly traced his thumb over her cheek to get rid of the tears.

“Buck I-” but without any warning, Evan’s lips crashed into hers, completely cutting off her sentence. Her chin was caught between Evan’s thumb and index finger, as her hand found its way to the back of his head, pulling his short curls.

This was the right person, with now the right time.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Girls Night

--genre + trope: FLUFF!!!, sfw

---pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

--word count: 0.7k

--summary: you thought that getting ready for girls night would be easy, but peter makes it harder when he's staring at you like that.

--warnings: some smooches, peter would do anything for the reader, mentions of being drunk, so much fluff wow.

--gif credits: @gatorstillman

You thoroughly believe that girls night is sacred, and should be honored at least twice a month. Every part of girls night, and sometimes morning, is something so special to you. Getting ready for tonight should’ve been uneventful, and pretty straightforward, but this time to yourself is quickly interrupted by Peter’s big brown eyes staring into the side of your face. He’s lying on your shared bed right next to the vanity he bought and put together for you after watching you hunch over on the floor next to a mirror that is half your size. 

You swear that if you looked hard enough into Peter’s eyes, you could see hearts in them. It feels like his eyes haven’t left you ever since you started getting ready. It doesn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest, but you do look over occasionally when he seems a little too quiet. “Hi baby,” a dopey smile plastered on his features. 

“Hi, my love,” you chirp back, “what are you doing?”

He shifts to get closer to you, “Just looking at you.”

“Oh okay, baby. Don’t forget to blink,” a teasing smile escapes your lips.

Peter doesn’t even respond back in defense of your comment, he just keeps staring at you. “You’re so beautiful,” was the only thing that left his mouth. 

You’re shocked, and he’s still staring at you as if you’re made out of gold. 

Looking down at the time on your phone, you rush to finish applying your lip gloss before you head to your closet to find something to wear. Peter’s eyes never leave your frame as you frantically move from one side of the room to the other, searching for an outfit. The only sound was the music you put on before you started getting ready, you couldn’t even tell if Peter was even coherent anymore, but you needed to leave in less than ten minutes and Peter was the last thing on your mind. 

As you finally put on an outfit you’re happy with, you take one last glance in the mirror before turning to Peter, “How do I look?” Still unsure of you’re clothes, you pull and pick at the material on you, awaiting his answer. 

Still lying in bed with a hand holding his head up, he says, “You are breathtakingly beautiful, Y/N.”

A sigh of relief leaves your lips before you take a few steps toward his relaxed form on the bed. Sitting down, you pull on some shoes you found next to your vanity, “I’ll be back soon,” you turn to face him, “I love you.”

He takes this opportunity to reach his hand up and pull you into his lips. A deep and warm kiss is shared between the two of you, and Peter has no intention of letting you go. He wishes you didn’t have to go out tonight, even though it’s been planned for weeks. Pulling away breathlessly, you look at Peter’s now sparkly lips, a laugh leaves you as you realize your lip gloss has transferred onto him. 

He doesn’t care, too love-struck to care about what he looks like right now. Bringing your hand up to hold his face, you wipe the sticky product off his lips as you continue to laugh at the situation. He takes the back of your hand and holds your hand there before turning to kiss your palm. “I love you, bug,” he gives your palm one last peck, “have fun and be safe, yeah?”

Standing up, you stand at the foot of the bed, “You know I always am.” 

Peter finally sits up, coming out of his daze to place himself in front of you, “Mhm…”

Leaning down to give him one last kiss you start to make your way to the front door, not before a playful smack is felt on your butt. You smirk before you yell a loud and dragged out ‘bye’, before closing the front door and locking it behind you. 

Peter lays back down, already missing you, a sigh escaping his lips. Not even a minute passes before he can hear the excited squeals of you and your friends meeting each other outside. Smiling to himself, he knows that he’ll have to take care of your drunken state when you come home later tonight, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

--author's note: just some more fluff with tasm!peter to end your week <3...don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging! my asks/inbox is open, so send me anything:). ok, bye ily<3333

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Part 5) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: language, angst, mature themes

Word Count: 4,371

A/N: In a shocking turn of events, this is in fact not the last part. I really wanted to put something out there this week but I’m still not quite finished with the last bit of the story. That being said, I think I found a good break point. I’m not even going to jinx myself by saying the next part is going to be the last, so TBD. Thank you again for your support. Please don’t be a ghost reader, and please feel free to comment or DM with any positive or constructive feedback. Enjoy!  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Perhaps that was your fatal flaw all along. The entire time you spent trying and failing to suppress and divert your feelings for the driver, you would have been better served leaning into them and letting them go in a controlled space.  

In clearing the air with Daniel, you felt a weight lifted. You were still shocked by the revelation that the feelings were mutual at least in part, but there was comfort and stability in the understanding that had been reached. The lightness allowed you to finally stand in your confidence and share in the excitement of the next phase of negotiations. The season would be over in less than a month, with only two races left including Brazil. You were grateful for the light at the end of the tunnel.

You discreetly made your way to Red Bull hospitality on Thursday morning, bright and early in Sao Paolo before the chaos of media day began. There was only an admin there who greeted you showed you around. You made yourself comfortable in the empty kitchen area, where it was immediately obvious the difference in resources. It felt opulent yet comforting, especially compared to the aggressive orange and sparse theme of McLaren. Then again, spending any excessive time around McLaren hospitality or their garage nowadays just made you depressed and resentful.

It was early, even for you, and you desperately needed to caffeinate before the meeting. You saw the coffee machine, but no mugs in sight. You began opening drawers and cupboards in search of a vessel, cursing Christian Horner in your head. You finally found them, but of course they were on one of the upper shelves. You strained your body to extend as far as it would go, everything you needed just out of reach. While adjusting your balance on your tiptoes, you felt a warm body press against you and a shadow of an arm reaching over you. You closed your eyes and sharply inhaled, relishing the pressure on your back and the smell of familiar cologne. You opened your eyes again when he peeled away from you.

“I think you were looking for this?” Daniel handed you a mug. You took it, feeling your fingers brush again. The epiphany you had earlier was dispelled in an instant. Engaging in self pleasure may have acted as a momentary release, but it did not subdue the feelings that had taken firm root over the last few months. Masturbation was simply a light pruning for the sturdy tree that now grew in your garden that refused to be moved by earthquakes or hurricanes.   

“I could’ve gotten it,” you grumbled avoiding eye contact. You had told yourself you had no reason to feel awkward about the other night, but you felt yourself shrinking in his presence nonetheless. His voice went up several decibels and he batted his eyes to mock you.

“Good morning, Daniel! Thanks so much for helping me! Good morning to you too, no problem, so happy I could help.” You rolled your eyes.  

“Good morning. I promise I’ll be nicer in ten minutes once I’ve had my coffee.” You haphazardly raised your empty mug. He raised his hands and backed away, a small smirk on his face, but did not leave. He found a seat elsewhere in the kitchen, and you felt his eyes on your back as you went about your business.

You locked eyes when you turned around with a full cup. He innocently smiled and waved, while you forced an aggressive smile back. Leaning against the counter, you took a few sips of coffee without breaking eye contact. After a few minutes you joined him.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Are you done being a cunt?”

“Are you done being a douche canoe?” He snorted.

“I guess not.”

“Likewise.” You paused. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to be here so early before the meeting.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Me neither. I’m excited, I think. And a little nervous.” He looked like a child on his first day of school, fidgety and unable to contain the energy requiring release. He couldn’t help the growing smile on his face. It was contagious, and you quickly found yourself smiling too.

“You should be – excited! Not nervous,” you quickly clarified. He looked down while he continued to bounce his knee.

“What if I make the wrong choice again?” he timidly whispered, though it could have been a question directed at you or the universe. It was no secret that many thought him leaving Red Bull in 2018 was the worst professional decision Daniel Ricciardo ever made, his short stint with Renault followed by his experience with McLaren as evidence. However, hindsight is 20/20. Perhaps he had too much hubris at the time, but he very validly thought he was being forced into a second driver position. How could he have known the series of unfortunate events that would follow? You did not fight the urge to hold his hand this time, gently placing yours on top of his in the middle of the table as you leaned in.

“There is no wrong choice this time,” you whispered back.

You truly believed that Daniel was in a win-win situation. Mercedes was a well-oiled, professional machine. The relationship there would be a symbiotic one. You thought they could help ground and focus Daniel, while Daniel could improve their public image and perhaps allow them to shed their somewhat stuffy, mechanical persona. Moreover, it would represent a clean slate with a new team. Conversely, you couldn’t deny how poetic a return to Red Bull would be. The place where Daniel spent so many years at the beginning of his career, it would be a momentous homecoming.

The Red Bull kitchen was quiet and empty. He looked at your hand. You were about to pull away but he lightly took hold of it before you could.

“Thanks,” he said in a soft voice to match the soft smile that graced his features.

“Of course. You know I’m always here for you.”

“I know.” He lazily rubbed your fingers with his thumb.

“Do you want to go over anything before the meeting?” You feebly attempted to redirect the conversation to be more professional, but you both knew there was no real effort as neither of you moved.

“Not really. I feel good this time.”

You remained in comfortable silence for a beat, lost in the exchange of energy that passed through one another. Your phone buzzed, pulling you away from the moment temporarily. Your face fell slightly. He looked at you expectantly.

“Well, you’re stuck with me today. The partner’s tied up with something.” You raised your gaze to meet his, searching for some kind of approval. He feigned distress.

“Oh no, what will I do? You’ve only handled 70% of this whole process on your own.” You squinted, skeptical of his confirmation.

“You trust a meager, low level associate to handle the entire trajectory of your future?”

“At this point, I trust you with my life.”

It was hard to tell whether he was being overdramatic for comedic effect or genuine. Foot steps in the distance pulled you from your trance, your hands quickly recoiling. With his back to the entry, he didn’t miss the chance to give you a wink and a smile that made you want to melt into the floor. Instead, you rolled your eyes in response but your bashful smile gave you away. You stood up when you saw your expected hosts enter.

“My two favorite people!”

“Good morning, Christian. I appreciate it, but you know flattery doesn’t work with me,” you quipped as you shook hands. When he wasn’t pissing off the rest of the grid, Christian really was quite the charmer when he wanted to be.

“On the contrary, it will get you everywhere.” The smile didn’t leave his face when he turned to Daniel, arms wide open. Their energy was well matched as they embraced in a warm hug. As happy as the driver was last week with his points finish, he seemed immensely more comfortable now.

When they separated, Christian looked at you again.

“What is this? Coffee and no Red Bull?” he teased.

“Sorry, had a bad experience in law school with energy drinks I’m afraid. Nothing personal. Though I was beginning to wonder whether the coffee machine was for decoration only.”

“They hide the mugs on purpose,” Daniel chimed in. Given the dimply smile and his tone, you would think he was joking but knew he was absolutely telling the truth.   

“He leaves for four years, comes back, and thinks he owns the place and can share company secrets.”

You had seen it several times now, but it amazed you how easy their relationship seemed. Although technically Mercedes was not out of the question, you already knew where Daniel’s heart was. It was now just a matter of ironing out the details.

Christian and the Red Bull lawyer joined you at the table in the kitchen. It was a nice change of setting, the informality of it made the weight of the discussion feel a bit lighter. The process with them was easy, especially compared to McLaren and even Mercedes. While it was slightly less formal, at all times you felt respected. Not once did anyone assume you were an admin or paralegal, which admittedly is a low bar. But even beyond that, especially with the partner’s absence, you were never treated as a subordinate and your professional capabilities were never called into question. Of course this process was not about you, but in your opinion you believed choice of outside counsel was an extension of the type of work environment your client could expect. Red Bull had been a pleasant surprise in this respect.

It was all smiles when you exchanged handshakes as you parted ways. You and Daniel were shown out the back door to avoid a few media that had just started to arrive at the paddock. You walked behind the teams’ hospitality stations so that you could join the main entry of the paddock without raising suspicion.

“So. How do you think it went?” you casually asked. You didn’t want your own opinion to taint whatever his genuine response may be.

“Honestly… I think it went really well.” The dimply smile you had become so fond of returned to his face.

“Honestly… me too.” You allowed yourself to show your enthusiasm, feeling yourself break into a wide grin. Away and hidden from the main walk of the paddock, he grabbed your hands and you both quietly squealed and jumped up and down. After a few seconds when you stopped and regained composure, he asked:

“So, what’s next?”

“Well, that depends on you. If you think you’re ready to pull the trigger with Red Bull, you let me know ASAP and assuming we’ve already nixed any dealbreakers that would’ve been in their offer, we go through everything again with a fine-tooth comb, see if they’re able to come up on anything and sign.”

“And Mercedes?”

“We keep them in play until everything is in writing and executed. No need to have a PR disaster like Alpine.” You were, of course, referring to the unfortunate circumstances of Alpine prematurely announcing Oscar Piastri as their second driver for 2023. He chuckled as you continued walking towards McLaren. You could hear the hustle and bustle from the press getting louder as more people began to arrive. He paused just before you were about to turn the corner and enter the circus.

“I want to be at Red Bull,” he said definitively. You smiled.

“Ok then. I’ll get to work.” He gave you an encouraging fist bump before taking a deep breath, knowing this would be the last bit of downtime you both had for the rest of the weekend, reluctant to leave the nest of the quiet sanctuary you shared just behind the organized chaos.

“Shall we?”

You sighed. “No time better than the present.”

-

Brazil was an eventful whirlwind. It was no surprise to you that Daniel continued to skillfully navigate an onslaught of questions about his future in the sport on press day and the rest of the weekend. On Saturday, the two of you gossiped excitedly when Kevin Magnussen got pole in qualifying despite Daniel’s own mediocre performance. Obviously the sport was cut throat, but everyone couldn’t help but root for the Haas underdog. There was a buzz during the sprint, Daniel just out of reach of the points in p11. Unfortunately, the race itself ended up resulting in a DNF for both McLaren boys. With each day of events, Daniel’s mood seemed to sour despite the positive steps being taken behind the scenes. Of course DNF-ing on what could be his second to last race ever is not what anyone wanted. However, while you sympathized for Daniel, that’s not what you were focused on. There was the celebration of George’s first win with Lewis also on the podium, but then there was the internal team drama you watched unfold at Red Bull.  

You anxiously waited out the post-race interview process so that you could update your client. If there was any question on what the path forward was before, it became crystal clear today.

As he walked through the paddock eager to get to his drivers room for some solitude, he saw you practically bouncing on your toes. He was a little annoyed to see you in such high spirits after an abysmal race, but it also made him relax a bit.

“I should DNF more often if it makes you this happy,” he dryly joked as he approached you. You should have been used to this song and dance by now. He makes a questionably flirtatious comment, you blush and get flustered, and after a bit of fumbling you redirect course and get back to business. You knew he wouldn’t change his behavior, no matter how many times you halfheartedly scolded or ignored him. It shouldn’t make you flustered any more, but there was excitement in not knowing whether there was any truth behind it. And as much as you hated to admit it, you liked it. But that was before your conversation in Mexico, where you divulged so much about your own inner turmoil. You had made yourself vulnerable. After that, you had assumed he would stop out of respect. What was a thrill before now felt like a cruel joke at your expense.

“Very funny,” you deadpanned. “I have some important news to share with you, can we go somewhere private to discuss?”

“You’re not going to buy me dinner first?” He had said this before, but it wasn’t landing like it used to.

“You’re going to have to buy yourself a new lawyer if you keep this act up.” For someone who didn’t finish the race, he was being awfully cocky today. And by goodness, did it make you feel things.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the one who said you wanted to be alone with me -”

“Daniel.” He usually stopped after the first rebuttal.

“Not that I’m mad at it-“

Your previous excitement began to sour in your mouth as your heartbeat quickened. You grabbed his wrist and dragged him through McLaren hospitality to his drivers room. You didn’t care who saw or what it looked like. You practically pushed him in and shut the door behind you. His eyes widened as you got in his face.

“Oh shit, is this actually happening?” he began to pull at his shirt.

“What?! No. Shut up. What is wrong with you today?”

“Oh come on, I was just joking! You know I always do this.”

“No.” You pushed your pointer finger into his chest. “Today, you’re being an ass. I don’t know if this is you acting out after a shitty race or what, but pull it together. You are not a 21 year old frat boy, you’re a 33 year old world class athlete with a fully developed frontal lobe - who is now wasting my time, and rest assured, I am billing you for it. And if you stopped your inappropriate jokes for two fucking seconds and let me do my job, I would have told you that there’s a solid chance you can be on the grid in 2024 in a fucking Red Bull. Thought you might want to know.”

You had backed him into a wall and were inches away from his face, huffing and puffing. You were so mad, that one man could make you so infuriated and horny at the same time. His eyes were still the size of dinner plates, but his expression had fallen slightly. It was his turn to blush. He had been surrounded by yes-men for so long, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been chastised like this.

“I’m sorry-” You continued, your tone somewhat more even.

“Max wouldn’t let Checo through today despite what it would mean for the driver’s and constructor’s championships because he thinks Checo purposefully sabotaged him during qualifying in Monaco. The girls are fighting which is more bad PR for Red Bull, Checo’s contract is up next year, and if this dynamic continues between the two drivers then there’s a good chance they won’t renew it.”

“That’s great news-” You cut him off again.  

“Am I a joke to you? Because I know you wouldn’t be making these comments if I was a man. I know you thought I was some secretary when we first met, but I really thought I had earned your respect throughout this process.” He looked at you now wearing the pink pantsuit you’d worn on that fateful first day.

“Can I just-”

“I’ve had to deal with so many mediocre men with undeserved self-inflated egos my entire life. I’ve dated them, I’ve been in class with them, I’ve worked with them, I’ve worked for them – especially the last five years at this godforsaken law firm. Lord knows I don’t need another one. I’ve had to work twice as hard and be better than them to prove myself as an equal. And even with all that, no matter what, as soon as I leave the room I’m the punchline of some joke I never asked or wanted to be a part of because I have boobs. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot initially but I really thought you were different. But no-”

One second you were ranting, the next you were cut off by lips crashing into yours. In your fury you missed his warm brown eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. In a flash he had grabbed the lapel of your suit jacket to bring you towards him, your hands landing firmly on his chest. Fireworks flashed behind your eyelids and for a moment you forgot what day it was, where you were, and who you were. You don’t know how long it lasted. You should have pulled away. You definitely shouldn’t have kissed back. But the taste of saline on him from the demands of the day and the scruff of his beard on your chin and cheeks made you want to stay. You smelled his cologne mixed with musk and, what was that, aftershave? Instead, he pulled away first.

You blinked a few times, jaw slack. You brought a hand to your lips, half to make sure they were still there but also for confirmation that you didn’t just hallucinate.

“Sorry, it was the only way I could think to get you to shut up so I could get a word in edgewise. If you’d let me talk, I would say I think you’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met. You’re smart, witty, funny, and no, it doesn’t hurt that you’re as good looking as I am. You think I give a fuck about billing? I would spend my entire fortune down to nothing if it meant I got to spend more time with you. I’ve known for weeks I wanted to go to Red Bull and I didn’t tell you until three days ago because as excited as I am about figuring out what I’m doing next year, I’m equally dreading it because as soon as I sign that means you leave. When you’re not in the room I only sing your highest praises. So yes, of course I respect you. And I realize, kissing you just now may have proved your point, and I’m sorry about that. And you’re right that I’ve been a cunt today and a lot of this weekend, and I’m sorry about that too.”

There had been very few times in your life where you were left speechless, and this was one of them. It was literally your job to be good with words, and right now they failed you.  

“And I know you’re going to say ‘let’s forget that this ever happened’ and I’ll move on and get back to business, but I can promise you I won’t. I’ll never tell another soul for your sake, because I don’t want you to lose your job, but I refuse to forget this, our conversation in Mexico, or that Sunday in Austin. You’re unforgettable f/n l/n.”

You stood there in silence for a few moments. Your adrenaline was through the roof and your mind was blank. He was clearly looking for a response, yet you had none. You did your best to break the tension.

“Well if your goal was to get me to shut up, you succeeded.”

“Honestly, I’m as shocked as you are,” he said with a small laugh. There was another long pause. “I shouldn’t have said all of that, I’m sorry.” You gave him a knowing smile.

“No you’re not.” He smirked.

“Yeah, not really.” You had become particularly focused on a speck of dirt on the floor, but finally returned his gaze.

“You know nothing can happen,” you whispered. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact that was directed at yourself as much as him. You unsuccessfully tried to hide the disappointment in your voice. He refused to look away from you even when you continued to avoid eye contact.

“Yeah, I know.”

Silence descended again. There was nothing else to say. You realized through your tirade and this whole exchange you had been standing dangerously close to one another, and you hadn’t backed away after the kiss. You could feel his heartbeat on your chest, and you were pretty sure he could hear yours. You separated yourself and tried to pick up whatever pieces of dignity you had left. You straightened out your suit jacket and cleared your throat.

“I’m going to try to add some clauses in the contract for 2024 primary driver placement. They’ll almost certainly come back with red lines to make them conditional, perhaps based on Checo’s performance and/or your own performance in the sim, but Horner loves you so much that I think they’ll be receptive to the idea overall.” Your heart hurt at how crestfallen he looked.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“I’ll send you a draft before it goes to Red Bull. You can expect deliverables by tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

“Assuming everything goes smoothly, I anticipate the agreement to be fully executed by Abu Dhabi. Does that sound like a reasonable timeline?”

He was incredulous at how quickly you could shut everything off. He had spilled his heart to you and in return he received merely an acknowledgement before you put an abrupt end to the conversation. You had done it so many times before to a lesser extent that he shouldn’t have been surprised by how quickly your walls went back up, but he somehow thought this time would be different.

“Yeah,” he finally answered. “But… I want to wait until after the race. I don’t want to have to worry about sneaking away in the middle of practice or qualifying.” It was his way of saying he wanted you there for the duration of the race weekend, he had gotten used to your presence over the last three months. Despite whatever this altercation did to your relationship, professional or otherwise, he couldn’t imagine finishing the tumultuous season without you by his side. He hoped you would pick up the subtlety, but it went over your head.

“I don’t know Daniel, Red Bull probably has a million celebratory events immediately afterwards seeing as their driver won the championship and they won the constructor’s. I imagine McLaren also has a bunch of end of season events planned as well that you’ll have to attend.”

“Can we ask if they can spend an extra day in the country?”

“If you want to wait until after the season is over I totally get it, it might just be easier if we try to schedule something at Milton Keynes the following week.” For someone so smart you were also awfully dense. He tried to come up with a logical explanation that you would be willing to go along with.

“I just thought it would be smart to be able to announce this within a few days after the end of the season, where there’s still buzz and interest and before we get too far into winter break. Plus then it would give the team a few days to come up with a press release still within that timeframe.”

You couldn’t argue that such timing would be better publicity for both him and Red Bull.

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. No promises, but I’ll reach out to Red Bull to see what their schedule is like.”  

He was satisfied with the victory, no matter how small.

“Is there anything else?” The words felt hollow as they left your mouth. He looked away, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, I guess not,” he said in defeat. You felt terrible. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, but saying them out loud would only serve to stoke the wildfire you so desperately wanted to put out.

“I’ll see you next week in Abu Dhabi,” you said meekly. You left the room, ending the exchange in a stalemate with neither party satisfied.

Taglist: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233

[valentoru]

|| Limitless ||

[CHAPTER 8]

SYNOPSIS: Gojo Satoru, a big time artist, who’s known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake wherever he goes. And you, the lead guitarist of an upcoming band, who’s absolutely certain that no one will ever love you. Through an accident in which you happened to kiss Gojo in a frantic state, you both decide, via convenience alone—and zero regard for both of your managers—to pull a fake dating stunt what could go wrong? Any press is good press…right?

PREVIOUS : MASTERLIST : NEXT

Three days later you found yourself stood in front of Gojo’s office again.

You’d never been there before three days ago, but once again you had no problem finding it. The staff scurrying out of it with misty eyes and a terrified expression was a dead give away. Not to mention that Gojo’s was the only one in the hallway completely void of pictures of kids, pets or significant others. Not even a copy of his album cover with the hit song that had won him a Grammy. You knew about all the awards he’d won from a quick google search you’d done the previous day. Just dark brown wood with a metal plaque that read; Satoru Gojo.

You had felt a bit like a creep the night before, scrolling through his Wikipedia page and going through as much information you could find out about him. Unlucky for you, he was reserved and didn’t let the press know much about him. Still you’d quashed yourself the feelings, telling yourself that a thorough background check could be considered mandatory before embarking on a fake-dating relationship.

You took a deep breath before knocking and then another between Satoru’s “Come in” and the moment you finally managed to force yourself to open the door. When you entered the offices he didn’t immediately look up and continued to type on his PC. “My office hours were over five minutes ago, so—“

“It’s me.”

His hands halted, hovering and inch or so above the keyboards then he turned his chair towards you. “Y/N.”

There was something about the way he talked. Maybe it was an accent, maybe it was just the quality of his voice. You didn’t quite know what, but it’s was there, in the way he said your name. Precise. Careful. Feel. Unlike anyone else. Familiar—impossibly so.

“What did you say to her?” You asked, trying not to care about how Satoru Gojo spoke. “The woman who ran out crying.”

It took him a moment to remember that less than sixty seconds ago there had been someone in the office—someone whom he clearly made cry. “I just gave her feedback on something she wrote.”

You nodded, silently thanking all the gods you were not a member of his staff team and never would be, and studied your surroundings.

He had a corner office, of course. Two windows that together must total who knows how many square metered of glass, and so much light, just standing in the middle of the room would cure twenty people’s seasonal depression. It made sense. With all the money he brought in, along with the prestige, that he’d be given a nice space. You on the other hand, didn’t even have your own office or filming booth, you just went where you were told and nine times out of ten the booths would smell of sweat and the offices would be with other people you didn’t know.

“I was going to email you. I talked to my publicity manager.” Satoru told you, and you looked back at him.

He was gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. You pulled it back and took a seat.

“About you.”

“Oh.” You stomach dropped. You’d much rather his publicity manager didn’t know about your existence. Then again, you’d also rather not be in this rooms with Satoru Gojo, have to go to shows, have climate change be a thing. And yet.

“Well, about us,” he amended. “And social media regulations.”

“What did they say?”

“There’s nothing against us dating—though they don’t recommend it—and we are free to keep it a secret. Unless of course it’s gets out then we don’t have a choice.”

A mix of panic and relief flooded through you.

“However there are some issues to consider. Any of the members of staff in this building could sell us out. Equally, if we get spotted, press may sell us out, which means we simply have to be cautious.”

You nodded. “Fair enough.”

“And I absolutely cannot collaborate with you until this is over.”

You huffed put a laugh. “That won’t be an issue. I wasn’t planning on asking you to collaborate with my band anyway.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why not? Your band does the same music as I do.”

“Yeah.”

“Then we would collaborate perfectly.”

“Yeah we may, but we don’t plan on collaborating any time soon. Plus, there are millions of people who do our genre music, and if we were going collaborate, I’d argue against it being with you. I’d like to finish the song ideally without crying in the bathroom after every meeting.”

He glared at you.

You shrugged. “No offence. I’m a simple girl, with simple needs.”

To that he lowered his gaze onto the desk but not before you could see the corners of his mouth twitch. When he looked up again, his expression was serious. “So, have you decided?”

You pressed your lips together as he watched you calmly. You took a deep breath before saying, “Yes. Yes I…I want to do it. It’s a good idea actually.”

For so many reasons. It would get Maki and Yuta off your back, but also…also everyone else. It was as if since the rumour had begun to spread, people had been too intimidated by you to give you the usual shit. The staff had quit trying switch the bands nice 2pm sessions with their nasty, horrible, life-sucking 8pm ones. People had stopped cutting in front of you at the coffee shop next door. And two different staff members had been trying to get ahold of you to potential work under your band as well. It felt a little unfair to exploit this hugged misunderstanding, but this was lawless territory and your life had been nothing but miserable for the past two years. You had learnt to get away with whatever you could. And if some—okay most staff looked at you suspiciously because you were dating Satoru Gojo so be it. You friends seemed to be largely fine with this, if a little bemused.

Except for Megumi. He’d been avoiding you like you had the pox for three solid days. But Megumi was Megumi—he’d come around.

“Very well then.” He we completely expressionless—almost too expressionless.

Like it was no big deal and he didn’t care either way; like if you’d said no, it wouldn’t have changed a thing for him.

“Though, I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

He waited for you to continue.

“And I think that I would be best if we lay down some ground rules, before starting.”

“Ground rules?”

“Yes. You know. What are we allowed and not allowed to do. What we can expect from this arrangement. I think that’s pretty standard protocol, before embarking on a fake-dating relationship.”

He tilted his head. “Standard protocol?”

“Yup.”

“How many times have you done this?”

“Zero. But I’m familiar with the trope.”

“The…what?” He blinked at you, confused.

You ignored him. “Okay.” You inhaled deeply and lifted your index finger. “First of all, this should be a strictly in the work place agreement. Not that I think you’d want to meet me out of work but I’m worried about the press. And just incase you were planning to kill two birds with one stone and being home a date for Christmas—”

“I wasn’t.”

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t planning to ask you to celebrate Christmas with me. But also my family don’t really celebrate.”

“Oh.” You pondered it for a moment. “That’s something a fake girlfriend should probably know.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on his mouth, but he said nothing.

“Okay. Second rule. Actually it could be interpreted as an extension of the first rule. But—” You bit into your lip, willing yourself to bring it up—“no sex.”

For several moments he simply didn’t move. Not even a millimetre. Then his lips parted, but no sound came out, and that’s when you realised you had just rendered Satoru Gojo speechless. Which would have been funny any other day, but the fact that he seemed dumbfounded by you not wanting to include sex in your fake-dating relationship made your stomach sink.

Had he assumed you would? Was it something you’d said? Should you explain you’d had very little sex in your life? That for years you’d wondered whether you were asexual and you had only recently realised you might be able to experience sexual attraction, but only with people you trusted deeply? That if for some inexplicable reason Satoru wanted to have sex with you, you weren’t going to be able to go through with it?

“Listen”— you made to stand from the chair, panic rising in your throat—“I’m sorry, but if one of the reasons you offered to fake-date is that your thought we would—”

“No.” The word half exploded out of him. He looked genuinely appalled. “I’m shocked that you’d even feel the need to bring it up.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks heating at the indignation in his voice. Right. Of course he didn’t expect that. Or even want that, with you. Look at him—why would he? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume—”

“No, it makes sense to be up-front. I was just surprised.”

“I know.” You nodded. Honestly, you were a little surprised too. That you were sitting in Satoru Gojo’s office, talking about sex—not only the meiosis kind of sex, but potential sexual intercourse between the two of you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

“It’s okay. This whole thing is weird.” The silence between you stretched, and you noticed that he was blushing faintly. Just a dust of red, but he looked so…you couldn’t stop staring.

“No sex,” he confirmed with a nod.

You had to clear your throat to shake yourself out of inspecting the shape and colour of his cheekbones.

“No sex.” You repeated clearing your throat. “Okay. Third. It’s not really a rule, but here goes: I won’t date anyone else. As in real dating. It would be messy and complicated and everyone and…” You hesitated. Should you tell him? Was it too much information? Did he need to know? Oh, well. Why not, at this point? It wasn’t like you hadn’t kissed the man, or brought up sec in his place of work. “I don’t date, anyway. Yuta was an exception. I’ve never…I’ve never dated seriously before, and it’s probably for the best. This job is stressful enough, and I have my friends, and my music, and honestly there’s better things to use my time for.” The last few words came out like more defensively than you’d intended.

Satoru simply stared, saying nothing.

“But you can, of course,” you added hastily. “Thought I’d appreciate if you could avoid telling people in the—well anyone—just so I don’t look like and idiot and you don’t look like your cheating on me and rumours don’t balloon out of control. It would benefit you, too, since you’re trying to look like you’re in a committed relationship—”

“I won’t.”

“Okay. Great. Thanks. I know lying by omission can be a pain, but—”

“I mean, I won’t date someone else.”

There was a certainty, a finality in his tone that took you by surprise. You could only nod even though you wanted to protest that he couldn’t possibly do that, even though a million questions surfaced in your mind. Ninety-nine percent of them were inappropriate and not your business, so you shooed them away.

“Okay. Fourth. We obviously can’t keep on doing this forever, so we should give ourselves a deadline.”

He pressed his lips together. “When would that be?”

“Im not sure. A month or so would probably be enough to convince Maki that I’m firmly over Yuta. But it might not be enough on your end, so…you tell me.”

He mulled it. Then nodded once. “May twenty-ninth.”

It was a little over a month from now. But also… “that’s a weirdly specific date.” You racked your head, trying to figure out why it could be meaningful. The only thing that came to mind was that you’d be in Boston that week for a charity show.

“It’s the day after my contract is reviewed. They will be deciding whether they are going to renew it or terminate it.”

“I see. Well, then, let’s agree that in May twenty-ninth we part ways. I’ll tell Maki that our breakup was amicable but that I’m a little sad about it because I still have a bit of a crush on you.” You grinned at him. “Just so she won’t suspect that I’m still hung up in Yuta. Okay.” You took a deep breath. “Fifth and last.”

This was the tricky one. The one you were afraid he would object to. You noticed that you were wringing your hands and placed them firmly in your lap.

“For this to work we should probably…do things together. Every once in a while?”

“Things?”

“Things. Stuff.���

“Stuff,” he repeated dubiously.

“Yep. Stuff. What do you do for fun?” He was probably into something atrocious, like cow-tipping excursions or Japanese beetle fighting. Maybe he collected porcelain dolls. Maybe he was an avid geocacher. Maybe he frequented vaping conventions. Oh God.

“Fun?” He repeated, like he’s never heard the word before.

“Yeah. What do you do when you’re not at work.”

The length of the time that passed between your question and his answer was alarming. “Sometimes I work at home, too. And I work out. And I sleep.”

You had to actively stop yourself from face-palming. “Um, great. Anything else?”

“What do you do for fun?” He asked, somewhat defensively.

“Plenty of things. I…” Go to the movies. Thought you hadn’t been since the last time Megumi had dragged you. Play board games. But every single one of your friends was too busy lately so not that, either. You’d participated in a volleyball tournament, but it had been over a year ago.

“Um. I work out?” You would have loved to wipe that sumg expression off his face. So much. “Whatever. We should do something together on a regular basis. I don’t know, maybe get coffee? Like, once a week? Just for ten minutes at a place where people, not the press but people we know, could easily see us. I know it sounds annoying and a waste of time, but it’ll be super short, and it would makes the fake dating more credible, and—“

“Sure.”

Oh.

You thought it would take more convincing. A lot more. Then again, this was in his interest too. He needed his contractors to believe in their relationship if he was to cajole them into renewing his contract.

“Okay. Um..” you forced yourself to stop wondering why he was being so accommodating and tried to visualise your schedule. “How about Thursday?”

He angled his chair to face his computer and pulled up a calendar app. It was so fully of colourful boxes and your felt a surge of vicarious anxiety.

“It works before eleven a.m. and after seven p.m.”

“Ten?”

He turned back to you. “Ten’s good.”

“Okay.” You waited for him to type it in, but he made no move to. “Aren’t you going to add it to your calendar?”

“I’ll remember.” He told you evenly.

“Okay, then.” You made and effort to smile, and it felt relatively sincere. Way more sincere than any smile you’d ever thought you’d been able to muster in Satoru Gojo’s presence. “Great. Fake-dating Thursday it is.”

A line appeared between his eyebrows, “why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“‘Fake dating.’ like it’s a thing.”

“Because it is. Do you not watch rom-coms?”

He stared at you with a puzzled expression, until you cleared your throat and looked down at your knees. “Right.” God, you had nothing in common. You’d never find anything to talk about. Your ten minute coffee-breaks we’re going to be the most painful, awkward parts of your already painful, awkward weeks.

But Maki was going to have her beautiful love story, and you wouldn’t have to wait ages to finally do a Cancer Awareness Campaign. That was all that mattered.

You stood and thrust your hand out to him, figuring that every fake-dating arrangement deserved at lead a handshake. Satoru studied it hesitantly for a couple seconds. Then he stood, clasped your fingers. He stared at your joined hands before meeting your eyes. And you ordered yourself not to notice the softness of his skin, or how tall he was, or…anything else about him. When he finally let go, you had to make a conscious effort not to inspect your hand.

Had he done something to you? It sure felt like it. Your flesh was tingling.

“When do you want to start?”

“How about next week?” It was Friday. Which meant that you had fewer days than seven to psychologically prepare for the experience of getting coffee with Satoru Gojo. You knew that you could do this—if you had worked your way up to being in a band and kicking your stage fright in the ass, you could do anything, or as good as—but it still seemed like a horrible idea.

“Sounds good.”

It was happening. Oh God. “Let’s meet in the downstairs coffee shop. It’s where most of the staff and well—anyone who comes here at all—goes to get coffee. Someone’s bound to spot us.” You headed for the door, pausing to glance back at Gojo. “I guess I’ll see you for fake-dating Thursday, then?”

He was still standing behind his desk, arms crossed in his chest. Looking at you. Looking entirely less irritated by this mess than you’d ever had expecting. Looking…nice. “See you, Y/N.”

TAGLIST(25/50): @bbmsxlene @lunavelha @satoryaa @tranzumaki @k-kkiana @luvkvni @lysaray @kalulakunundrum @arysbruv @r4veeen @stillnotherapy @catobsessedlady @colortheoryrocks @minzxec @dazqa @packsvlog @luvvmae @simplysm1le @mintfyi @fushism @angstmuncher @fackeraccount @astro-stars @lavender-hvze @miizuzu @rayrayline @kanaojacksonofc @letsmyy

AN:

I have so much in store for this fic I’m genuinely debating making a discord server so that I can pester you guys with spoilers and talk to you guys about stuff bc there’s literally SO MUCH to tell

ANYWAYYY aurkurad chapter🔥 Y/N WHY WOUKD YOU SAY THAT GIRL

© valentoru all rights reserved- do not publish my work on other platforms, plagiarise or translate.

[piglet26]

Top Five Reylo Scenes

Before I start I do want to add why Reylo means so much to me. Recently I went through a really deep depression and part of what pulled me out of it was Reylo. I was able to write essays and do analysis about this OTP. Rewatching the films and focusing on theirs scenes helped get my mind off of some pretty deep stuff. I was also able to receive love and connection through the Reylo community. It's meant a lot to me! Also, I know that Tumblr is very supportive to anyone going through a tough time and directing people to self help lines. If you are going through a time that is really dark or challenging I Love You in Reylo.

Now my top three scenes is tough cause I love them all, but if I had to focus on an order to the game I'd say........

5 " You Need a Teacher"

“There’s a history in Star Wars of the attraction between the light and dark…”

Truth be told I'm surprised this scenes ranked as high as it did with me because I do not like that she beat him. The more I thought about it I realized why I did want to rank it. There is something raw and dirty about them here. The look of sheer amazement he gives her after that lightsaber flew to her was everything. The force theme beginning to play. Then when she lit the lightsaber and he was like "oh, you wanna duel? ok, let's duel then." The moment they found the force together with their faces beautifully lit up. It really is great.

There is nothing violent really about their fight, like I don't fear for their lives. Resembling the scene where Kylo Ren said could “take whatever he wants” and “Don’t be afraid, I feel it too” while looking at her lips. The chemistry took me by complete surprise and I shifted in my seat uncertainly watching this the first time. Surely I shouldn’t like a murderer and a villain with Rey, but I couldn’t help it. This very chemistry, though probably amounting to less than ten minutes of actual interaction between each other, leaves the audience with a hungry desire for more.

Reylo and Anidala could be mirrors of each other with Anakin falling to the Dark Side because of his selfish love for Padme and Kylo coming back to the Light because of his selfless love for Rey.

When Kylo is with Rey, he is calmer, and calculating. For Kylo, the seduction is to the Light. However, when Rey first searches out the Force with her feelings, she immediately ends up in the Dark Side, and is unafraid to take what she wants from it. In battle, she is furious, screaming and bent on destruction. As I mentioned above, Anidala and Reylo could be the Force’s attempts at balancing itself. Where Anidala was destined to fail, Reylo is destined to prevail and finally balance the Force.

4 "You'll turn........I'll help you"

“The Abduction,” the song in TFA when the “bridal carry” happens, has a very similar ascending line of notes to a recurring theme in Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet overture.

I love everything about this. The infamous elevator scene. Reylo once again dominates the screen in The Last Jedi, easily rendering Finn’s growing romance with Rose bland and tedious in comparison. Rian Johnson is a Reylo stan so I stan him. This is the first time Rey and Kylo are physically side by side since she tried to kill him in the forest on Star killer Base. It's the most sexually charged body language! They spiffed up for one another. She’s changed her clothes, put on makeup and decided to leave her hair down. His hair is freshly washed with a spritz.

“Ben” She’s using his real name now and like in every scene with her now he's calm. He hates his name, but when she says it he hears her. She's appealing to his true nature, or, what she believes it to be. It's possessive as well. He is HER Ben. The way he tried not to have a reaction to her until she said his name. He's trying to stay blank and not give away what he intends to do, but none the less has a reaction to her.

Rian Johnson basically confirmed that Kylo / Ben wanted to kiss Rey in the elevator scene. It’s canon so I am prepared to fight. Not to mention, Johnson tells us that Adam Driver, as Kylo / Ben, seriously considered kissing Rey in this scene. He is, indeed, staring at her lips in the elevator with the most intense eye contact.

Reylo speaks to me, and many others, on a spiritual level. Like many stories of both maiden and monster, Reylo shows us what it means to be a heroine. A heroine reaches her hand out to monsters and says: you deserve love and compassion, no matter the mistakes you’ve made. We're in a movement where women are tired of "fixing" men and I'm here for it. I honestly think that's why so many woman found it difficult that Reylo is not soft and sweet.

3 ........Ben?"

Adam Driver says Kylo Ren can’t help but harbor admiration for Daisy Ridley’s Rey in the Last Jedi. “I think there’s something familiar there, as well as something to be feared, or something… that he (Kylo) can’t quite place.”

Let me go ahead and say that I'm going to cheat.... I'm including the novelization in this because that mixed with novel is what gives me life. TROS brought such mixed Reylo emotions. We got great stuff! In small doses *eye roll* In the novel. She was glad to see him. Glad to be with him in this moment. It was the greatest gift she could have given him. His heart was full as Rey reached for his face, let her fingers linger against his cheek. And then, wonder of wonders, she leaned forward and kissed him.

The way Rey sits in wonder...... never mind she was borderline dead..... Ben is there, really there and she's just staring in wonder. Ben is looking at her in painful awe and relief. They are both almost child-like in their affection. The way Rey hesitates, after years alone, it takes her a moment to work up the courage for her first kiss. Ben just lets her take her time. The way he waits patiently for her to work up the courage and then the moment the kiss, he pulls her to him like she is the air he breathes for his first kiss. Oh! The smiles. Seriously?! Ben and Rey are happy! There was fireworks, champagne and pussy power! Rey’s hand. Ben gave his very life essence to Rey because his love is that absolute.

And let’s not forget the novelization of TLJ had this quote “They will never have to be alone again”.

Now this is where things get messy as hell. Adam was on the set of Tatooine..... but as they cut that ending. Daisy stated regarding the ending “the crew was shaken in a way I had not seen before. and I thought, ‘my god if this is people’s immediate reaction when the scene isn’t even ready, imagine what it will be like to see it in the movies, with the John Williams soundtrack and all that." When Ben faded into the force...... no one felt anything for a moment then there was just confusion and disappointment. You cannot nor will you ever have me believing that this janky ending was the real deal.

2 "Join Me.......... Please"

“He (Kylo) sensed his and Rey’s destinies were intertwined, but how?......"

The Throne Room Proposal! Kylo premeditated in the purest Sith way regarding the murdering of his Master for his bae. Then he gives Rey a furious speech on killing the past in a bid to win her over and fulfill his dark Queen fantasy. “You come from nothing, you’re nothing—but not to me,” Kylo tells Rey, in one of the most beautifully twisted declarations of love ever uttered in a family blockbuster, before quietly pleading with her to join him like he’s the most desperately lonely person in the universe. The duo’s visions of their future together—Rey sees Kylo turning to the Light, and Kylo witnesses Rey joining him in the Dark. However, upon Snoke’s death, the bond still stands. Kylo offers Rey a place at his side and his hand in marriage, but it is the proposal of an awkward boy, grasping desperately at a relationship he has only begun to understand.

And you can see it in her face, that she’s torn, there is a part of her that wants to take his hand, not to rule the galaxy, that’s not her ambition, but to simply stay with someone who truly understands her as well. But it’s the ‘please’ Adam Driver showed that Julliard education with that one word. Both actors just brough it. You can see how far they've come and yet still so far away from each other.

1 "You're Not Alone.......Neither are You"

“When Rey feels rejected by Luke Skywalker, who also sees parallels between the power in her and the abilities of his estranged nephew, the old Jedi master inadvertently pushes the two towards each other.”

You knew it was coming. In TLJ, Kylo is at his most sympathetic and tempting; Rey at her most understanding. Both are outcasts because of their power, they are both lonely, whispering to each other comfortingly “you’re not alone” and “neither are you.” Kylo sees more in Rey than she does within herself. He also challenges her as an equal. Ben ultimately encourages her to not only expand her mind, but in embrace her womanhood. It is no wonder that Rey goes to him. After experiencing Luke and his failings as a master and failing to find the answer's she's been looking for....... Rey ends up relating to Kylo. Kylo, for once, has put the whole of misery and life lessons into something productive.

When we find them alone in a dark hut, slowly lean towards each other, and very hesitantly touch hands in a scene fraught with romantic tension. Notably, the Force music plays during the scene, signaling their relationship’s importance. A tear crawls down Rey’s face as the two connect and understand each other on a level so deep that it is reminiscent of sex, and causes Luke Skywalker to pull the ultimate Dad move and blow up the hut.

As Rey and Kylo develop their bond we see the force attempting to balance itself. Yin and Yang....... the imagery littered throughout the sequel trilogy is drawn heavily from those belief systems. We see continuous parallel shots with Rey and Ben to represent this duality. Both are presented in contrasting surroundings that represent the duality of the masculine and the feminine. In many shots half of their figure is bathed in light and the other half is bathed in the darkness.

This connection is as spiritual as it is romantic. As Jason Fry explained, romance is merely the analog we have in the living force for this deep spiritual bond.

[somedaylazysomeday]

Misbehaving - Part Four

Cody is finally back in town! Unfortunately, his timing coincides with Mother Nature.

Commander Cody x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors, do not interact.

Word Count: 5,100

Warnings: Discussions of menstrual cycles and accompanying discomfort, dom/sub undertones, period sex, blindfolds, minor dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex.

Previous | Masterlist

---

You liked to consider yourself an optimist. 

Sure, sometimes things happened that didn’t quite match up with the way you thought they should. There were always bad days and missed opportunities, but for the most part, things worked out. 

A grand and ironic exception, of course, was that you had gotten your period just days before your boyfriend would finally be back on the same planet. You were still struggling to put an optimistic spin on that particular situation. 

I’ll be there in ten minutes.

The message was glaring up at you from the screen of your comlink. You hadn’t told Cody what was going on, and you weren’t exactly sure why. He was familiar enough with human biology to know that most females had a menstrual cycle and it wasn’t exactly something he could hold against you. 

Still, some combination of irritation and denial had kept you from telling him outright. It was going to be a terrible surprise, you thought morosely, especially given that he liked to be welcomed home between your thighs. 

Two sharp knocks on the door sounded and you glanced over at the chrono. Yep, ten minutes from the holomessage, almost to the second. You hauled yourself up from the couch, grimacing at the way gravity pulled on everything between your legs. 

When you opened the door, Cody was standing there. He was proper as always, helmet under one arm and warmth filling his dark eyes. “Ma’am. May I come in?” 

It was the typical playacting you did when he came over. Cody had insisted on it for ‘plausible deniability’ reasons. You had tried explaining to him that your neighbors weren’t the kind to watch arrivals through peepholes, but he wouldn’t listen. It was very Cody - when he decided on something, nothing short of a GAR command could make him change his mind. (Even then, he would probably want to debate.)

“Yeah,” you agreed, leaning against the wall. Not only did it move you slightly out of his way, but it also took some pressure off your aching spine. 

It was a less elaborate welcome than you usually offered, and Cody’s brow twitched before he stepped inside. The door slid shut automatically behind him, leaving the two of you in sudden privacy. 

“Good to see you, mesh’la,” Cody greeted, hands sliding around your waist. You still felt bloated, but the warmth of his hands was soothing. “You look beautiful.” 

You snorted before you could help it. You hadn’t felt like putting on anything flattering, especially since you had bled on the last two pairs of pants you had worn. That meant you were dressed in clothes that were one wash away from being tossed into a garbage chute, and at least two sizes too big. 

“I’m a mess right now.” 

Cody smiled at you, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve never seen anything more perfect.” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to reply. He was being nice, painfully nice, but you felt so terrible that being called perfect only made you think about how far from perfect you felt. 

Cody’s eyes searched your face. Whatever he found there made his smile fade, which made you feel even worse. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You look upset.” 

“I’m-” You took a breath, trying not to let yourself cry. “I’m not having a good day.” 

“Tell me what I can do to make it better.” 

It came out like an order, and you bit your lip. You weren’t sure if you would have said something rude or burst out in tears, but neither option were how you wanted the evening to go. 

“Change the laws of nature?” Your suggestion made Cody’s head tilt slightly. You scrubbed at your face. “I’m sorry. I’m on my period right now and it’s not fun. Not your fault and I don’t mean to take it out on you.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about that,” Cody soothed. “Why don’t you sit back down. Where does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt, not anymore,” you told him. “I had some cramps right before everything started, and the first two days are always awful, but now it’s just blood and bloat and misery.”

Cody urged you back over toward the couch, and you settled into the tangle of blankets you had surrounded yourself with before he got there. The apartment was a mess, now that you took a moment to look around. You were a mess, why would your home be any different? “I’m sorry, Cody.” 

“You’ve already apologized once, and that was one time more than necessary,” he replied, settling onto the couch beside you. “What are you apologizing for, mesh’la?” 

“I just-” Your eyes watered again as you tried to verbalize it. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your leave.” 

“Don’t worry about that.” Cody seemed utterly unbothered, but how could he be? He had been looking forward to this just as much as you were. “We’re on leave for the better part of a week. We have time. Besides, the galaxy isn’t going to fall to pieces just because we won’t have sex tonight.” 

The finality of that made your chest ache. You were tired and your self-esteem was low, but the hormones were also whirling around inside of you. Most of them were going toward making you mildly irrational, but there were enough left over to make you lonely and long to be filled. 

“I was really looking forward to being with you,” you whined, still trying not to cry. “I missed you so much. In more ways than one.” 

Cody smiled, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I know,  sweetheart, and that means everything to me. But I want you happy and comfortable. If that means that we don’t sleep together tonight, I’m fine with that.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” You hiccuped. “It’s that I’m… You know…” 

“Does it hurt?” he asked with a frown. 

“No, but-” You cut off, frowning. Had you missed something? It certainly seemed like you had. “I’m still bleeding. And not just a little bit.” 

Cody paused, eyes searching your expression. Whatever he found there, his brow smoothed. Carefully, he said, “You know, I don’t mind a bit of blood. If you want to be together, I’m happy to-” 

“Ugh,” you interrupted, aghast. “You would want to fuck me on my period?” 

“Not if you don’t want me to. But yes, I want you. Like I said, I’m not worried about a little blood.” 

“What if it’s not just a little?” you asked, heart picking up. “My period isn’t light.” 

Cody shrugged. “And? Point is, mesh’la, my plans don’t need to change if you don’t want them to.” 

You thought about it for a long moment. You didn’t love the idea of having sex on your period, but not because of any real reason. It had always just seemed like a taboo. But if you wanted Cody and Cody wanted you… Well, it seemed silly to turn him away because of some outdated societal norms. 

“And you’re sure it doesn’t bother you?” 

Since he had already said as much in several different ways, you wouldn’t have blamed Cody if he’d gotten impatient or sarcastic with you, but he didn’t. Instead, he was patient and steady as ever as he reassured, “No, it doesn’t bother me. I want to be with you.” 

You melted, leaning in with your face tipped up to his so he could kiss you more easily. And he did, pressing his smiling lips to yours until you were well and truly lost in it. All of your worried and inhibitions had disappeared from your mind… until Cody’s wandering hands crept between your thighs and pressed against the thick pad you were wearing. 

Suddenly, horrified embarrassment filled you. Did he think it was weird that you were wearing a pad instead of a tampon? How long had it been since you’d changed it? What if you smelled bad? What if you had a blood clot when he was trying to fuck you? 

You broke away from him, hiding your face against his shoulder. “I don’t know if I can do this.” 

Apparently, Cody understood the muffled question immediately, since he didn’t ask you to repeat yourself. “Why?”

It was a fair question, and you searched yourself to get an honest answer. “The blood might not bother you, but I think it bothers me.” 

Cody was quiet for a moment. “What if I blindfold you?” 

“What?” The question was unexpected enough to jar you out of your self-consciousness, and you pulled back to stare at him. 

Your lover looked calm and helpful, not at all the expression you would have expected from someone who just offered to blindfold you. Granted, you and Cody had done far more adventurous things in your time together… 

“I can blindfold you,” he repeated. “If you want to fuck but don’t like the idea of seeing the blood, a blindfold can make sure we’re good. You can get the relief you want without worrying about the drawbacks. I won’t force you, I’m just saying it’s an option.” 

Your pussy gave a throb at the idea of being stretched by him, and you did your best to ignore the trickle of blood that left you. “I think that would be perfect.” 

Cody’s smile was beatific, and he squeezed your hand as he stood. “Give me a second to get everything set up and I’ll meet you in the bedroom.” 

You watched him leave. You didn’t love that he was wearing shoes and full armor in your apartment, but you couldn’t help but admire the way his boots gave a hint of strut to his step. Besides, if he could make you forget about your general misery, you would gladly clean the floor and call it a fair trade. 

While Cody was working in your bedroom, you occupied yourself in straightening up the living room. Food wrappers went in the waste can, your glass of water went in the sink, and you managed to fold two blankets before you decided it wasn’t worth the effort. 

“Cody?” you asked, with a soft knock on the door to your bedroom. “Are you-? Wow.” 

Cody turned to look at you over his own shoulder. He studied the towel he had laid out on the bed, frowning. “Is this not okay? I can choose a different one. I just thought the color-”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. The dark purple towel had seen better days, so even if you couldn’t remove any stains, it was no big loss. Besides, you would sacrifice every towel you owned if Cody would just let you take a holoimage of him like this. 

Your lover had stripped off half of his body glove, leaving it to hang from his waist while his upper body was on full display. The lamp on the bedside table had been turned down low, and the dim light played beautifully against the swells and dips of his muscular arms and torso. He had pulled pillows and additional blankets to surround the towel, clearly intent on making you as comfortable as possible, and a silk scarf from your closet was neatly folded on the bedside table, ready to be used as a blindfold. 

“Everything look okay, mesh’la?” Cody asked. 

You suddenly realized you had been staring, and nodded to break the spell he had unknowingly cast over you. “Looks fine to me.” 

Cody held out a hand, half-kneeling on the bed already. “Then the only thing missing is you. Ready?” 

You had already taken his hand when you balked. “Actually, I should use the ‘fresher…”

“Do you need to use the refresher?” he asked. 

“Well, no…” you hedged. “But I could probably do with a little cleanup before we get started.” 

“If that’s what you need to feel comfortable.”

You retreated to the refresher attached to your room and did what you could to freshen yourself up, but your period was still heavy enough that you weren’t going to stay clean for more than a few minutes at best. 

“Feeling better?” Cody asked when you joined him in the bedroom once more. 

“Nervous.” 

He frowned then. “Nervous? What are you nervous about?” 

“That you’re going to be grossed out,” you answered hesitantly. “If you are, it’s fine. We can just stop. You know that, right?” 

Cody nodded, his mouth pressed into a grim line. It was only when he started speaking that you realized it was held that way to fight back a smile. “Yes, sweet girl. I know that. I can also promise that I know what I’m getting into. This is hardly the first time I’ve been with someone who’s on their cycle.” 

You blinked. That… was something you had never considered. And it did make you feel better. You didn’t love thinking of Cody with other people, but if he had done this before, he probably wasn’t going to run screaming at the first sight of blood. 

Whether or not you would was still up for debate. 

Your shoulders settled. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

Cody nodded. His hand extended out again, and this time, you took it. He drew you gently toward the bed, helping you position yourself when you laid down. Your hips were centered on the towel while your shoulders were well-supported by the pillows Cody had arranged for you. 

When he joined you, Cody was careful not to rest any of his weight on you. Instead, he lay stretched out beside you, supporting himself on one arm as he leaned in to kiss you. You relaxed into that kiss, the tension leaving your muscles even faster than it had before. One hand rose without your permission, cradling Cody’s jaw and toying with the near-invisible stubble you found there. 

Cody gave a satisfied little sigh at the feeling of your fingers on his skin, kissing you deeper. Simultaneously, he let himself explore you with the hand he wasn’t using to support himself. 

You were fine - eager, even - when his touch traced along your collarbone, but you tensed when he reached your sensitive breasts. However, Cody was as gentle as ever. He cradled the weight of each breast in his hand in turn, brushing your nipples with the edge of his thumb. When he continued working downward, however, you found it impossible to stay relaxed. 

His fingers had just crept under the waistband of your pants when you tensed, breaking the kiss. “Cody?” 

“I know, mesh’la,” Cody soothed you. He removed his hand, reaching for the bedside table. When he turned fully back toward you, he was holding your silk scarf. “Are you ready for me to blindfold you, sweet girl?” 

“Yes.” You weren’t, but you trusted Cody with every part of you. Even your sight. 

That was probably why you were so nervous about this, you reflected, watching the silken material grow closer until you had to close your eyes against it. For all of the ways you and Cody had experimented with limitations - restraints, certain forms of address, even some minor breath play - you had never given up a sense with him. No matter what had been happening between you, you had always been able to clearly see it coming. 

You were smiling despite yourself when Cody finished tying the material behind your head. Perhaps it was only your imagination, but you swore you could feel him pause when he sat back. “What is it?” 

“Just…” You paused, trying to articulate it. “It’s funny - all the things we’ve done together and being blindfolded is the first time I think I’ve been truly nervous.”

“Nervous?” Cody repeated. Out of the darkness, something brushed your cheek and you jumped violently. “Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you. How do we make you feel more in control? Maybe you should tell me what I can do and when.”

It was a clever solution, but it also sounded like it would take a lot of effort, and you weren’t sure you had the mental capacity at the moment. “Maybe you could tell me what you’re going to do before or while you’re doing it?” 

“I can do that, and you can tell me if you need me to stop or to touch you differently,” he assured, thumb brushing the top of your cheekbone. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

You were smiling when Cody’s lips pressed against yours. The kiss was clumsy at first, and you blamed your fumbling on the fact that you couldn’t see him drawing closer to you. But soon enough, the two of you fell into a steady, comfortable rhythm. 

When you felt a touch against the top of your mound, you jumped and Cody pulled away to bite out a curse. “Sorry, mesh’la. I already got distracted. I won’t forget again.” 

“It’s okay,” you reassured, but Cody wasn’t having it. 

“No, these are the rules for this session. I won’t forget again.” The promise was delivered from much closer than he had been before, and you could feel the heat of Cody’s breath against your throat. “I’m going to touch you.” 

That time, you expected the brush of Cody’s fingers. Even with the way he was mouthing down the side of your neck, you couldn’t keep a frown from your face. Everything was about to become very real. 

He explored along the edge of the pad you were wearing, making you squirm at the warmth of his touch. When he had traced down and between your legs, Cody’s voice rumbled into the very bones of your shoulder. “You ready for me to take these off, princess?” 

You nodded. Apparently, Cody wasn’t going to make you answer him verbally. All he said in response was, “Lay back for me.” 

As you did as Cody asked, there was a slight tugging sensation at your waistline. Cody prompted, “Lift your hips for me and we can get started.” 

After so much time obeying Cody’s orders in the bedroom, your body wasn’t exactly waiting for your input. Your hips raised automatically, helping him ease your underwear down your legs. It was gone, then, and you were jarred by the realization that you had no idea if he had placed them next to you or thrown them across the room. 

“Did you put those somewhere they won’t be smearing blood on the floor?” you asked. Did it threaten the mood? Yes, but so would having to scrub dried blood out of your carpet later.

“Of course,” Cody assured you, pressing a kiss to your hip. “Relax. Let me take care of everything. Do you trust me?” 

“Always.” 

“Good girl.” Another kiss to your hip, then a third on the swell of your lower stomach. 

“Cody?” you asked. A light hum answered you. You would have felt ridiculous, but you could feel his breath on the part of you where your belly turned into your mound. “If you use your mouth on me, I’m going to throw up.” 

A pause. “At the feeling or the idea?” 

“The idea, mostly.” 

“Then I won’t,” Cody agreed. From the sound of his voice, he had moved further up your body. “I am going to use my fingers on you, though. Non-negotiable. I want to do some extra prep work with you on your cycle.”

You nodded again. You knew better than to argue with Cody when he was using that tone of voice. It wouldn’t get you anywhere and would just end with you both being frustrated. As a peace offering, you parted your thighs for him. The slight roughness of the towel until your bare hips was odd, but all you could focus on was that Cody was probably staring at your core. 

“Are you ready for me to start touching your pussy?” 

This isn’t dirty talk, you reminded yourself. Cody’s just trying to keep communication open and effective. Apparently, that didn’t matter to your brain, which insisted on classifying the question as being flirty and daring. You were already blooming for him when you nodded. 

“Let me hear that pretty voice, sweetheart.” 

Well, that certainly didn’t help anything. You had to swallow hard before you trusted yourself to say, “Yes, I’m ready.” 

There was a pause, just long enough to make you wonder whether Cody was going to make you repeat him verbatim before he would move on. Thankfully, he took pity on you and brushed fingertips across your slit.  

Your breath caught in your throat, hips canting upward as if you could find his fingers and force him into you. The sudden, savage surge of want surprised you. The neediness that came with your cycle was nothing new, but faced with the prospect of having those needs met - and met far better than your fingers or toys could manage - was driving your body to previously unknown levels of desperation. 

“That feel good, princess?” 

You wanted to laugh at the idea that he even had to ask, but all you could manage was a dry sounding, “Yes.” 

“Then let me give you a little more.” 

Cody’s stroke was firmer that time, working his way from the bottom of your sex to the hood of your clit. It managed to feel even more dazzling than the first touch had, and you gave a soft moan. That was unusually desperate for you, confirmed by the disbelief in Cody’s low chuckle. 

“My poor little mesh’la needed this even more than I realized,” he mused. “Enough teasing, yeah?” 

The tips of his fingers were at your entrance the next moment, though only one of them pushed inside of you. You were eager for more, but had to admit that one finger felt formidable. The sheer amount of lubrication coating your channel and lips helped ease the way, and you stubbornly refused to think about what else could be causing that wetness. 

Cody worked you slowly with that single finger, patiently petting and stretching you until your inner muscles relaxed enough for him to slip in a second one. You huffed out a breath at the stretch. 

What you hadn’t expected was that being blindfolded forced you to focus more on your other senses. You could feel Cody moving inside of you, of course, but you also felt the way his knuckles occasionally brushed up against your lips. You could hear how wet you were, but also that Cody occasionally held his breath as he watched you take him ever-deeper. His body lay warm against the length of your left leg, and you grabbed his forearm simply to feel the way the muscles and tendons worked as he stretched you. 

Your introspection was cut off when Cody pushed a third finger into you. Your mouth dropped open, a keening noise escaping you as the stretch rapidly went from shocking to uncomfortable to intense to orgasmic. Before you could even begin to warn him, you were tightening around Cody’s fingers and blindly panting out your orgasm.

When the roaring in your ears faded, Cody was still stroking into you. His motions had slowed significantly, but the steady push-pull of his fingers was threatening to build you right back into another orgasm. 

“Cody, please,” you begged, limbs too lax to pull him away. 

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Cody asked. His hand slowed even further, but he didn’t entirely stop. 

“You.” It came out in a gasp, but clear enough to be understood.

“Always so perfect for me.” Cody’s fingers pulled free of you, and you heard the unmistakable sound of him taking off the rest of his body glove. “Do you need anything else from me before I-?” 

“No,” you interrupted hastily. “Please, Cody, I just need-” 

“Shh… I know what you need, sweet girl.” Your thighs were pushed wider - wide enough to accommodate him between them. A blunted head prodded at your entrance and you canted your hips. Cody’s hands closed around your hips, holding you steady. “Be patient. I don’t want to push you into going faster than you should.” 

You sobbed out a breath as he slowly speared into you. Cody was gracefully proportioned, but some magic of your period or the blindfold - or a combination of both - made you feel his length more intensely than you could remember feeling before. He was sinking into your channel at an achingly slow pace, but that just seemed to emphasize the way he stretched you, forcing you wide around him. 

When he bottomed out in you, you froze at the intensity of the full feeling in your lower belly. If you could have removed your hands from his shoulders, you would have pressed them to your stomach. You wondered if you could have felt him lodged in your guts. 

But instead, you clung to Cody. Your fingernails bit into his skin as you used him as both a source of solidity and a handle so that you could move more freely. Your feet were still resting on the mattress, giving you the leverage you needed to push your hips up, and you ground your pelvis against him. 

Cody’s grip loosened enough to let you do it, then tightened again as he groaned. “You’re killing me, mesh’la.” 

“I’m killing you?” you asked, disbelievingly. “Cody, please, I need you to start moving or I’m going to explode.” 

“Fine,” he agreed. “But you’ll tell me if it’s too much?” 

“I promise.” 

Cody took you at your word. He pinned your hips to the bed and started to move. He couldn’t seem to decide whether he wanted to use long, pounding strokes or shorter, deeper ones. He ended up with a combination of both, which you found both hard to anticipate and intensely sexy. 

You couldn’t stay quiet under the onslaught of pleasure. Admittedly, you weren’t trying very hard, but neither was Cody. He was making his opinions clear, a combination of curses, moans, and praises falling from him. The only time either of you were quiet was when one or the other had initiated a kiss. 

Cody panted above you and you picked up on the particularly desperate rasp of it. He was close. That was perfect, since you were also close, but you wanted to see him. 

“Cody,” you said. Cody groaned your name in response, and you realized you needed to be more specific. “Cody, wait.” 

He froze halfway inside of you. “What is it? Do you need to stop?” 

“No, I just need you to take off my blindfold.” 

There was a beat of silence. “Are you sure? What about the blood?” 

Something in your chest shrank at the reminder that you were on your period and that the scene between your legs probably looked a lot more graphically violent than you had been imagining. Even so, you nodded. “I won’t look. I want to see you. That matters more to me than making sure I don’t see the blood.” 

“Give me a moment, sweetness,” Cody requested. The next thing you felt was the gentle brush of his fingers against the back of your head, then the scarf was lifting away from your face. You studied Cody’s face eagerly, taking in every expression and line. 

You didn’t realize you had a lovesick smile on your face until Cody returned the expression. With a gentle brush of your fingers over his cheek, you said, “There you are.” 

Cody nuzzled into your hand - an oddly sweet gesture considered he was balls deep inside of you. “Better?” 

“Much,” you agreed, rolling your hips experimentally. The brief pause hadn’t killed the mood entirely, and the fire in your blood roared back to life. “Mmmm… I’m close.” 

“Me, too.” Cody withdrew partially from you, pushing back in before pulling out a little further, then doing it again. Eventually, he was thrusting into you with luxurious, full-length strokes that almost seemed to be stroking your insides. Every move managed to brush against your g-spot both when he was pushing in and when he was pulling out, and it wasn’t long before you were panting once more. 

“Cody!” 

Cody pressed his forehead to yours, filling your entire field of vision as your body shattered for the second time that evening. It felt indescribably different to squeeze your internal muscles around his cock rather than his fingers, and the thought crossed your mind that you could happily come around him for eternity. Of course, the pleasure would probably kill you rather quickly, so ‘eternity’ wouldn’t be that long. 

He continued to thrust into you, bucking harder and faster and deeper and stronger until your orgasm stretched long enough to have been your second, third, and maybe your fourth. Cody’s hips lost their rhythm, his brow furrowed, and at last he tore himself from you. 

On the rare occasions when Cody didn’t fill you up, you liked to watch him come. There was something so powerful about it, so primal and compelling. But you were still dealing with the aftermath of your extended orgasm, the pleasurable aftershocks, and the inevitable weakness in your muscles that came after a really good time with Cody. 

Dampness seeped down from your inner thigh, dripping onto the towel beneath you as Cody’s hand squeezed the large muscle that lined the top of your thigh. “...Fuck.” 

You managed a laugh at the harshness of his curse. “You okay?” 

“I think I saw the galaxy for a second there.” Cody let out a shuddering breath. “You’re always amazing, but that was entirely different.” 

“It was a lot more intense than usual,” you agreed. “Maybe you were right about period sex.” 

“Not exactly what I meant, mesh’la,” Cody told you. You glanced at him, surprised that he wasn’t indulging in even a bit of gloating. “You were so strong. I know you weren’t sure about trying it, but I’m glad you did. It was very brave of you. Thank you for trusting me.” 

There were a dozen things you wanted to say: that you would always trust him, that there was no one else you could be as confident with, that it was you who should be thanking him. But you settled for a nod, deciding not to try speaking past the lump in your throat. 

In lieu of words, you tugged Cody upward until you could kiss him. He would understand everything you wanted to say.

---

Author's Note - At this moment, I don't have anything more planned for these two. But every now and again, I'll stumble into an idea that's too perfect not to use, so I won't say never!

Thanks for reading!

[ronearoundblindly]

♟ and Jake Jensen (shocking I knoe)

Arts and Crafts

No warnings. Pure fluff. WC ~700

Record-setting torrential downpours for days. It feels like it’s been raining for weeks, months even. You are starting to hate what used to be one of your favorite things.

You can’t nap anymore. You’ve run out of books to read (and listen to). You are trapped inside and ready to start pulling your hair out for the fun of it.

Although a gamer and techie who regularly sits in a dark room staring at a computer for twelve-hour stretches, Jake is also going stir-crazy and loudly announced that he was “fucking done” this morning before disappearing into his office.

You give up staring out the window by 9 AM, knocking on his open door in time with the scratching sound of the 3-D printer.

“Whatcha doing?” you ask in that cute way he likes.

Jake spins in the chair, a huge smile on his face, the kind that lifts his glasses with his cheeks.

“Nothing,” he lies, a mischievous glint flickering over the lenses.

You know better. “You’re bored, Jensen, and up to something.”

Your boyfriend opens his arms as you saunter over and perch in his lap, eyeing his screen over his shoulder. His feet shuffle to turn you both around.

“Is that some sort of longboat?” you guess. “Like the Vikings? Trying to get in touch with your roots, huh, Mister Frosted Tips?”

Jake chuckles while you play with his hair a bit, then he snuggles you closer.

“Actually,” he pushes at the bridge piece over his nose, “that is a Maori waka. Similar, but they made war canoes…and technically the Vikings had longships.”

You hum.

“Dork.”

Jake snorts and sags in the chair, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You simply card your fingers through his short hair some more.

“So why are you building yourself an ultra-tiny canoe?”

“Just an idea,” he mumbles, “and I think I’ve just had another.”

He starts clicking through schematics and typing a new search. After landing on his intended target, he wiggles you—nicely—off of him to load more material into the printer.

Bouncing with new-found purpose, Jake grabbing string and a drill bit has you a smidge worried.

“Hey, pretty lady, you wanna play in the mud?”

Why you two even bothered to put on raincoats, you’ll never know.

Less than ten minutes into your epic boat race on the raging creek in the backyard, you’re both soaked through and still beaming. The strings make sure you don’t lose your vessels either down the current or to the now invisible bottom.

You keep trying to clothesline Jake while your noticeably faster vessel tugs you past him. He’s hurtled over you a couple of times, hoping for best two-out-of-three or first to ten.

“Face it, Jensen! I am owning your W.A.S.P.y ass with a flightless bird.”

Although enjoying your delighted smugness, he takes a short break to shake droplets off of his eyewear. “Oh yeah,” he practically wheezes, “you’re not competitive at all.”

You stick your tongue out as you pass back to the starting point at the edge of the property.

He jogs, following. “Ready to eat your words?” Jake lines up the boat in the water, his longer arm placing him right by your ear. “It’s go time.”

You release your grip and start running, screaming behind you. “I’m sorry. Did you want a pushover?”

“Absolutely—duck—“ he vaults over you just as your knees hit the squishy silt shore “—not.”

It’s a good show, but he gloats when finally his longship overtakes your waka, dancing in victory and shouting into the traitorous weather. Once he reels in the little boat on its line, Jake plops down in the mud, huffing beneath his dripping hood.

He watches you carefully retrieve the christened ‘Kiwi’ and join him in the rain.

He elbows your side. “Thanks for letting me win one.”

“I can only whoop your Anglo-Saxon ass so much, babe.”

“Love you, too,” Jake squeaks, gently tackling you to rub his goatee on your cheek. Once you stop squirming, he pulls back to wiggle his eyebrows over foggy, wet glasses. “You wanna print a tanker and try to sink it with Roman candles?”

Rain becomes one of your favorite things again.

from this game of "Comfort My Characters"

Thank you for asking!

Skipping the taglist because this is two in one day and hopefully one each day until I'm done, so yeah, just check back for comfort fics!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[tokimihyachi]

Achilles Heel [Pantalone x Reader Series] Chapter 1

❝I cannot kill you, for your end will become my eternal damnation.❞

SYNOPSIS: Pantalone does not do well with love. He never thought, wanted, much less had experience in that field. He viewed it as a weakness, a bad omen hanging above his head. But he was prepared to make an exception for you.

He'd let you become his only Achilles Heel if it meant keeping you.

CHAPTER ONE: A LION'S DEN | 1/22

⸻ PANTALONE WAS A PATIENT MAN.

     It wasn't luck that had gotten him the seat of being the second richest person in Teyvat. Nor was fate the reason why he ended up being one of the renowned Harbingers. That was his doing, not of any god, not of any preordained fate. Every deal he had made was calculated carefully to match his objectives and each contract he handled traipsed on a rope of his cleverness.

     He deserved his riches, his power, and his influence. His job required excellence in the observation of how the economy fluctuates, and sharp wit to act on the scene. While it is true that being a banker required empathy as well, only a fool with no self-awareness would dare and test his tolerance.

     The Regrator was in search of a temporary secretary— his former one had unfortunately been hospitalized for poisoning— when a man in his late fifties pleaded him for a moment of his time, claiming he was the one he has been looking for.

     But with his patience growing thinner, perhaps this imbecile should have begged for his life instead.

     He glanced at the watch hidden underneath the layers of his thick coat, before begrudgingly placing his attention back at the buffoon in front of him. 10 minutes. The oaf sitting across the table had been uttering pure nonsense for ten minutes of speeches filled with self-centered praises, and glories of his wealth.

     The relevance of his self-boasting to their interview? Nowhere to be found.

     "What was your name again?" he asked. The man, obviously offended by the sudden interference, frowned and straightened his posture.

     "Diego, My Lord." Pantalone thought briefly of how common his name was and how this man's stupidity blinded him from seeing how angered the Harbinger was.

     He gathered every parchment from Diego's resume, pretended to scan them quickly, and smiled wryly. "After such a short-notice meeting, I'll require more time to evaluate certain things before I reach a decision. Regardless of such, you have a remarkable taste for gifts."

     Diego seemed pleased with the compliment, eyeing the sack of treasures he had gifted upon his arrival.

     "Anything for you, My Lord." the man replied standing up from his seat, holding a hand out for him to shake.

     How ludicrous. Did this dolt really think he'd win him over such useless trinkets?

     Nonetheless, he kept his façade and shook Diego's hands.

     "It was a pleasure doing business with you, My Lord. I hope we will meet again soon." the man removed his hat and placed it on his chest as he bowed at him.

     Pantalone acknowledged it, waving his hand in the air to dismiss his presence. Words should not be wasted on unprofitable assets which Diego was the moment he walked his hubristic soles into his office.

     Once the man had left, the banker called out his guards stationed outside the cabin they settled in. At the sight of him, the Fatui saluted, awaiting his orders.

      Pantalone's eyes drifted to the fading figure of the man outside talking to his coachmen, barking orders. Men like Diego needed to be put back in their place. He appreciated ambitious people. Essentially, it was those kinds of employees that worked more diligently than the rest as if they had to prove to the world that they were capable of doing something. That their presence was needed. Their talents sought after.

     After all, that was how his own story began; destitute from birth with no blessing from the gods. He loathed it. His meager disposition, the vulnerabilities of his upbringing, and how those experiences dubbed him detestable to society.

     Rather than listening to his Aria of misery as everyone else with ill-fated lives, he stole the baton from the conductor and became the maestro of the orchestra. When an instrument to his masterpiece invariably sounded out of tune, he took it upon himself to pluck the strings of his own fate— weaving it meticulously, till he had the results he wanted.

     Till the pitiable harmony that was his life sounded like a symphony worthy of reverence.

     Though so minuscule, he could see that in Diego. A man yearning for success to improve his life. However, it seemed that the career-driven man was long gone.

     Pantalone turned to his men and with an unmoving gaze said, "Kill him. Swiftly, and not a sound should be heard."

     They nodded, moving in synch comparable to robots, and went away.

     Embers from the cabin's fireplace crackled slowly in a faded resonance within the sanctuary of the office. The sheer cold from outside slowly invited itself as it crept up the nails of the roof similar to an unwelcome guest— dampening the firewood until its glow dimmed. What a quiet reminder that Snezhnaya's frost was unforgiving, much like the Tsaritsa herself.

     Truly, Pantalone was grateful for the benevolence of their Archon. Whilst it was the Director who recruited him into the Fatui, the Tsaritsa saw him for his aptitude in financial affairs, thus granting him the power to the nation's economic policies and the position of Northland Bank's head.

     She did not bat an eye when his greed overtook his senses, a case rarely ensued but still did at a certain point. To the Tsaritsa, as long as her children remained faithful only to her with their long-term goals aligning her grand scheme to overturn Celestia, the manner in which they carried out their duties was irrelevant.

     The clack of the door hitting the wall pulled him from his thoughts, and a figure with a hood entered his office: unwanted, unannounced, with a stature so confident it almost vexed him. Which ignorant moron would dare enter a Harbinger's office without their permission?

     Turns out only you.

     "Oh," you said, "so there's one more."

     Pantalone looked through the window only to be greeted by the sight of all his men on their knees, tied up together like a present, unconscious.

     Though the Regrator was a businessman to heart, the sight of blood never fazed him. If anything, he greeted death whenever the two crossed paths on the battlefield with a nod of his head. One is not a true member of the Fatui if danger is not their companion.

     The Tsaritsa only accepted results beyond satisfaction and Pantalone was prepared to do anything even if he was just artillery to the Archon. Therefore, dealing with you should be easy if he hadn't just finished dealing with his former client. He wasn't quite in the mood for a fight.

     What a nuisance you are.

     Instinctively, his hand went to his delusion, hidden from plain sight underneath his overcoat. Even so, you simply went past him and reached for the sack Diego had brought earlier. After only seconds of rummaging, you brought out a piece of old jewelry— a pendant with a faceted rock.

     You looked at him briefly, the papers on the table, then to every part of his body except his eyes. "Sorry for the mess. This is very important to me and that man," you pointed at Diego outside, dead from the looks of it. "stole it from me. Just had to get it back. I heard your order to kill him from the roof so I did it myself."

     "Now, now, there's no need to thank me just a smile from you is enough." you added, chuckling a little.

     Pantalone drew his brows together. Were you perhaps... an escapee from the mental hospital? That's strange. He was sure there were no psychological institutions nearby.

     When no response still came from him, you stared at the papers again. "By the way, the fifth clause in that contract technically breaks the policies stated in the first." you said.

     The man finally moved. "What?"

     "That resume on your table," you gestured at the papers. "Not only are the stipulations contradicting, but the estimation for the projects are all wrong, and that seal on it is fake. Whoever forged that was clearly stupid."

     He knew that. Admittedly, it took him six seconds of reading the documents to conclude they were written by another hand who clearly did not understand the demands of a secretary to a Harbinger's work, but you merely glimpsed at it still inches away from yourself and already recognized what they were.

     How odd you were.

     You sighed from his inability to continue the conversation, "Well, I'll be taking my leave now." you then placed a hand on your chest out of respect. "Goodbye, kind sir."

     Before you could take another step, Pantalone seized your wrist, the warmth from your bare hand seeping through his gloves.

     "Are you deranged?" he asked.

     "My insanity depends on the amount of breakfast I've had. I've barely eaten a spoon today so I think you've made the correct assessment. Are you a doctor?" you grinned.

     Pantalone almost snorted in amusement if he hadn't stopped himself. What civilization did you live in for you not to recognize who he was? Wait. He shook his head. What was he doing? Enough time was already wasted on the wrong interviewee, he couldn't waste much more. He tightened his grip on your hand.

     "How courageous of you to walk into my office, thinking you'd step out freely with no sanction. Do you know which den you've walked into?" His tone was crisp, like the unrelenting ice that plagued the room.

      Obviously, he was livid with regard to your lack of manners. And from the looks of it, you were about to be served the wrath of the Ninth. The hand that once preyed on your wrist was long gone and moved to your neck.

      There was a flicker in your eyes one that he knew was of acknowledgment, albeit the hood that covered most of your face. But it wasn't recognition of his position. The sudden shift in your facial expressions—what you recognized was not who he was but how dangerous he is.

     Yet what intrigued him was how you were more beguiled, curious even, rather than afraid.

     "I think I've walked into a lion's den," you answered, almost gagging at the force of his hold. But despite the lack of air you managed to crack another smile as you continued, "Though I must say, I'm not afraid of being bitten at all."

CHAPTER ONE, END.

-> chapter two

tip this broke law student here! thank you, travellers! i hope you enjoy the rest of the fic! <33

[ourgoddessathena]

missing pure paw paw

✾ pairing : oikawa tooru x reader

✾ warning : written under 30 minutes, not proofread, possibly ooc oikawa, nothing tbh

✾ request : yes / no

✾ word count : less than 500 words

✾ summary : your favorite lip ointment went missing

✾ disclaimer : my grammar is fucking imperfect. i write for myself so if y'all don't like it then don't read it, thanks ♡

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"tooru, honey. did you see my pure paw paw?" you asked as you rummage through your bag. oikawa looked up from his handphone, trying to remember, then shake his head.

"is it the red one? no, babe. i don't see it." he answered. when he saw you still searching your pure paw paw for like a good 5 minutes, he finally get up and help you.

"when was the last time you used it?" asked him while he search in the living room.

"it was in your car, but i can't find it there too--god dammit where the fuck are you?!" oikawa chuckled when he heard your answer. and his eyes catch a glimpse of something red. something that looked like your pure paw paw under the couch. he reached it, and he's right. it's your pure paw paw.

"babe, found it!" you snapped your head so quick when you heard it, and you run to him to take your pure paw paw.

"finally! thanks honeyy. my lips is soo dry it's killing me." you said excitedly while take the lip ointment from his hand. oikawa shake his head a little bit.

"you should drink more, you know." he said. you faked a hurt look in your face.

"i did! but i don't know why my lips are always dry when i don't use this." you started to smear the lip ointment to your lips, then you realize something.

"oh shoot, i used it a little bit to much. tooru, c'mere." tooru looked up, a little bit clueless. what's the relation between you used your lip ointment too much with home come closer to you? but nonetheless, he still come closer.

when you feel he's finally closer enough, you cup his face, tiptoed a little, and give him a kiss in his lips.

tooru's eyes went huge. he can feel your lips that a little bit sticky due to the ointment, smiling a little when you kiss him.

the kiss wasn't that long, but when you pull apart, you can see that tooru's face, ear, and neck are red. like red red. and that honestly makes you blushed a little bit too.

"now it's perfect." you said in a low voice, then leave him alone with another kiss in his cheek.

tooru was dazed for a good ten minute, in the living room, with a red face. i think you broke him lol.

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here is another oikawa x reader (warning! suggestive)

[iamstevessmile]

MY DRIVER

James Bucky Barnes

Summary: Formula 1 Bucky Barnes; Bucky Barnes racer; lot of fluff and cuteness

photo credits @pinterest

“Thanks for tagging along Ads, I’m not sure how much longer I can do it alone.”

“Are you kidding? I should totally be the one thanking you y/n, I mean, you’re taking me to a racetrack filled with good looking guys!” I let out a laugh, shaking my head at her dramatics.

“In that case, you’re welcome.” I grab my car keys off the table, slinging my bag across my shoulder as I make my way to the front door. “Now, we best be going if we wanna get there on time.”

Addison hops off the couch, following behind me like an excited puppy as we both make our way into to my car.

“I don’t know if I already said this, but I’m really excited.” I laugh softly, as I pull out of the driveway and onto the main road.

“Maybe once or twice. I actually always wish you could tag along. It gets quite boring being there alone.”

“I mean, technically you’re not alone.”

“I would classify sitting by myself in a ton of stadiums as alone Ads.”

“Okay, true, but Buck is there.”

“Mmh, he’s there, but I can’t speak to him.” I sigh quietly, not wanting to show how much this all was starting to affect me.

“Y/n/n, you know that I know you more than you know yourself right?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“So I can tell you’re not happy with all of this, so why don’t you say something to him?” I bite down on my lip, turning the car off as soon as I pull into an empty parking spot, after searching for almost ten minutes.

The stadium was packed, no doubt about that.”

“It’s not up to him Ads, you know this.”

“You say this, but in the end, it’s still up to him.” She says bluntly, catching me off guard. “Don’t get me wrong y/n/n, I know he cares, but have you questioned why he’s just agreeing with it all?”

“Of course I have, I think about it more than I’d like to admit, but I trust him Ads. He’s not doing this because he wants to, he’s just listening to his team.”

Addison nods slowly, holding out her hand for me to take before squeezing it gently.

“Sorry babes, you know I just worry about you sometimes.”

“I know, but you don’t have to, I promise.” I flash a genuine smile at her, pushing all the worries aside for the moment. “Now, let’s go, I wanna grab something to drink on the way in.”

Addison and I climb out of the car, locking it before we make our way into the stadium, flashing our tickets at the security on the way in.

“It’s on me, order whatever.” I smile at Addison, gesturing for her to pick something off of the menu while the waiter hands me my drink.

“Thanks babes, I’ll grab the next one.” She says, waiting for her drink before the two of us search for our seats within the crowd.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“No, not really.” I laugh, grabbing the tickets out my bag as I hand them over to her. “You can lead the way, with pleasure.”

With that, i followed her blindly as she led us though the crowd, all the way down to the paddock box, right in front of the race track.

“Do you always sit this close?” Addison asked, shuffling back into her seat as I fall down into the empty one next to her. This area seemed more reserved; with less of a crowd surrounding them and more media reporters and photographers.

“No, I usually sit up top somewhere.” I whisper back, not wanting to bring any attention to me.

I bring the bottle of coke up to my lips, taking a sip as I search the area in front of me. My eyes land on James and my heart rate immediately picks up, a reaction that never seems to fade when I’m around him.

“I see that you’ve found your loverboy.” A small, teasing nudge pulls me from my thoughts, and I can’t help the way my cheeks heat up almost immediately. “Wonder what it’s like dating the top formula one driver in the world?”

I roll my eyes at her, choosing not to answer incase someone was eavesdropping.

“Do not let me leave here without snatching up one of these men.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, I burst out laughing, slamming my hand across my mouth to stop myself from spitting the drink out.

“Noted.” I swallow the small bit of the drink on my mouth as I replied to her.

I turned my body back to the front, my eyes wandering back over to where Bucky was, only to be met with his eye on me already.

Without even having to say anything, the small smirk that spread across his face said enough, and when I tilted my head slightly in question, all he did was wink subtly before walking over to his car.

“I want what you two have, so badly.”

With that, the race had begun, announcement being made consistently as the race quite literally zoomed by.

“THE DRIVERS ARE APPROACHING THE FINISH LINE. AS USUAL, JAMES BARNES IN THE LEAD. IF HE MANAGES TO CROSS THAT LINE FIRST, WE MIGHT JUST HAVE OUR NEW 2022 CHAMPION.“

The whole crowd sat in anticipation, erupting into a wild cheer as they sped across the finish line.

“THATS IT EVERYONE, JAMES BARNES HAS MANAGED TO WIN AGAIN, TAKING FIRST PLACE ON THE PODIUM, ALONGSIDE ROGERS AND WILSON.”

“Oh my god, HE WON!” I screeched, turning to Addison, my excitement extremely evident. “I’m so proud of him, I just-“

“ALTHOUGH TAKING THE CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE FOR THE YEAR, JAMES SEEMS TO BE ON HIS OWN MISSION, AS HE MAKES HIS WAY TOWARDS THE PADDOCK.”

“Hang on, what!” I quickly turn my head away from Addison, seeing Bucky run through the gate entrance of the Paddock, stopping when his eyes landed on me.

I freeze in place, shaking my head slowly as I see him slowly start making his way towards us.

The crowd was going wild. There was no doubt that every single eye in the stadium was on him right now as he stood directly in front of me.

“Hi doll.” He whispers, leaning against the metal bar that separated us.

“James! You shouldn’t be here.” I keep my voice low, seeing the photographers now starting to take interest in the two of us. “What are you doing?”

Suddenly he ducks down, moving under the metal bar, standing up and leaving the smallest distance between us. Way too close for anyone to not question who I was.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He flashes one of his award winning smiles that make me melt inside. “I’m here to celebrate with my gal.”

My cheeks heat up wildly, and my eyes go wide at his words. Was he really doing this?

“But, your team-“

“I just won the world championship for this year, I’m sure they won’t have anything to say.” He says softly, lifting his hand up to rest it against my face. I watch his eyes drop down to my lips as his tongue darts out over his lower lip.

“Are you sure?” I whisper.

“Never been more sure of anything than I am of you.” He says, his lips brushing against my own. “Now, I think your boyfriend deserves a kiss, you know, after winning and all that.”

I giggle softly, not waiting another second before crushing our lips together, melting into him as he pulls me tightly against his body.

Everything felt completely okay, like it was just me and Bucky, until the announcer spoke up again.

“AND TO ALL THE FANS OUT THERE, LOOKS LIKE JAMES HAS ALREADY BEEN SNATCHED UP, SORRY LADIES!”

With Bucky’s lips still on mine, I burst out laughing, feeling absolute pure bliss as he squeezes my hips, peppering kisses on my cheeks before pulling away.

“Hey Ads.” Bucky smiles over at Addison, who was watching the scene in front of her in awe.

“Hi Buck.” She smiles back, before Bucky turns back to face me.

“Come down with me? I want my girl there when I get onto that podium.”

“I’d love to.” I blush deeply at his words, before nudging Addison. “Can Ads come along, she’s really adamant on leaving here with a new boyfriend?”

Bucky chuckles deeply, throwing his head back in the process as Addison shrugs, not denying the claim at all.

“Of course.” He smiles, pulling the two of us towards the podium. “You know, I think you and Rogers would get along really well.”

[dyns33]

Flufftober 7 - Hitman and Bodyguard

Michael Langdon x reader (yes, you read that right) 

Costume balls were a real nightmare by bodyguards.

It was hard enough to follow and protect a client at a ball, but a costume ball was almost mission impossible.

Even knowing her customer's costume, the fool often wandered off into the crowd, and he found it amusing to swap his mask with those of his guests.

No doubt risking being kidnapped or killed was fun for rich people, Y/N was not there to judge.

She was just here to do her job.

The problem was that she couldn't do her job well if her client disappeared all the time, remaining unprotected for several minutes.

Even though the father had warned her that the young man could be difficult, that he probably wouldn't listen to her advice, and that he would pay her even if he was slightly injured, she still had to avoid something serious happened to him.

Disguised as a policewoman, she did her best to follow him like his shadow.

           "You could have chosen a better disguise." he complained when she finally found him, after losing him for the seventh time.

           "Note that I made an effort, I didn't want to disguise myself at all initially. Now stop trying to lose me, I'm here to ensure your safety."

           "But it's going to be fine ! I'm safe, dad is too paranoid ! There are only nice people here and I want to have fun !"

           "I'm not stopping you from having fun, I'm asking you to do it by staying close to me."

           "But you're no fun ! You could have at least chosen the sexy police uniform ! We can't see anything !"

           "I have handcuffs. I can tie you up to the table if you want. At least I won't lose you anymore."

This made him chuckle mildly, as if he didn't know if she was serious.

Y/N was very serious.

And she should have acted quickly, because she turned her head for less than ten seconds, giving him time to go back into the crowd.

Except that this time, it took much longer to find him. Trying to remain calm, as all her years as a bodyguard had taught her, she searched for him in every room of the house.

If he didn't change his mask yet, it was easy enough to track him down. Her client had found it brilliant to have a mask made entirely of gold, with precious stones, and an encrusted crown. With his suit, also golden, and his red cape, he was perfectly ridiculous.

When she finally found him, on the balcony, she didn't give him time to speak, grabbing his arm to lead him back to the main room.

She should have found it strange that he didn't protest. She should have known there was something wrong when he bowed to her before leading her into a wild waltz.

           "That's it. As soon as the music stops, I'll tie you up somewhere."

           "So naughty, chérie. But fine, I'll let you tie me up. I know how to uncuff myself anyway. I could have kept this as a surprise, but I don't like to cheat."

           "... Michael." she growled, trying to pull away.

           "Y/N." he replied amusedly, hugging her even more tightly. "I haven't seen you for a long time. I missed you."

           "You killed my client."

           "I could have. But no, don't worry. I didn't want to upset you, and I thought he was perfectly annoying. He's sleeping in a locked closet. No one will find him. You can rest and enjoy the evening."

           "Don't tell me you messed a contract only for me again, I won't believe you."

           "And you would be right. Even though my main job is assassination, I like diversity. I'm here for the mask. You're here to make sure your client stays alive. We don't have a reason to fight."

           "Hmm."

Y/N stared at him for a long time.

Even though he was a real pain, Michael Langdon was a professional hitman who never lied to her. She could therefore believe him when he told her that the client was alive, and that he would remain so until the end of the evening.

It was not like him, however, to agree to play as a thief.

           "You are right again, моя любов."

           "I knew it, there is something else."

           "I told you, only the pleasure of seeing you. I haven't seen you for a long time. When I heard about this job, and found out who the son's bodyguard would be, I jumped at the occasion. No murder, no drama, a dance and some calm. No need to thank me, darling, I'm happy."

           "Good for you."

           "By the way, I love your disguise. Your client is an idiot, it's always sexier to leave all the room to the imagination."

He had been following her since the beginning of the evening. Y/N hadn't noticed him, not suspecting his presence at all.

But that was probably because she didn't see him as a threat, even if she still didn't understand why.

Or she refused to try to understand why.

Obviously it showed on her face, which made Michael laugh.

Despite the ridiculous mask he wore, Y/N could very well imagine his smile and his sparkling blue eyes.

No, she shouldn't be thinking about that. She mustn't think that maybe she had missed him a bit too, and that she was quite happy to see him.

That was probably why she hadn't kicked him yet, before tying him up, calling for backup and going to get her client out of the closet.

The only reason they were still dancing was because her client was safe, so she could say her job was a success.

He was even safer where Michael had put him than continuing to wander around the house.

           "I might still have to try to get this mask back. My employer might take it badly if he finds out I didn't do anything."

           "You want a secret, corazón ? Your employer and mine are the same. He's tired of his son's nonsense. I'm here to teach him a lesson, and you're here to make sure no one but me try to teach him that lesson. Happy ? Want a drink ?"

           "Never during work."

           "Ah, min skatt." he purred. "I'm so glad to have you back. Of course, if we worked together..."

           "No."

           "Very well, mio angelo. In that case, let's dance."

They continued to dance until midnight came. Like some kind of prince, Michael bowed again, removing the mask to kiss her hand, letting her see his beautiful face for a few moments, before giving her a wink and stalking off to the kitchens.

Y/N waited a bit before going to get her client who was starting to feel cold in the little closet, crying and screaming for help like a child.

This costume ball hadn't been so terrible in the end.

[littlemochix17]

Chapter 12

Words: 15.2k

Dumbledore had convinced Harry not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays, the Invisibility Cloak stayed folded at the bottom of his trunk. Harry wished he could forget what he'd seen in the mirror as easily, but he couldn't. He started having nightmares. Over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with laughter.

"You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," said Ron, when Harry told him about these dreams.

(Y/n) sat motionless in her room, her eyes fixated on the necklace lying on her bedside nightstand. Since returning from her journey with Harry and Ron, she had not stepped out of her bed except to satiate her hunger. She felt no inclination to search for her friends or engage in any other activity. Her mind was consumed with finding answers to the mysterious behaviour of the necklace. Was it under a spell? Was the woman she saw in the mirror the same one who had bewitched the necklace? maybe Leonora knows something Countless questions swirled in her mind, interrupting her thoughts at every turn. Suddenly, her trance was broken as she heard a loud knocking at her window. She knew it was Hedwig, her best friend's owl, and she hurriedly opened the window to find the white owl perched on the windowsill. She took the letter from Hedwig and stroked her feathers affectionately before watching her fly away. As she opened the letter, she couldn't help but smile at the simple words inscribed on it:

Meet me in the common room.

As (Y/n) reminisced about her friends, a sudden realization dawned upon her, and she hurriedly rushed down from her room. She didn't want to waste a moment more, and so she quickly descended the stairs to meet her two dear friends. Upon reaching the bottom, she was greeted with two pairs of anxious eyes, which immediately relaxed as they saw her emerge from her dorm. A warm smile spread across her face as she approached her friends, grateful for their concern and happy to be reunited with them.

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of the girl he had been waiting for. He greeted her with a warm smile, his eyes softening as he took in her form.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with admiration. The girl's face lit up with a radiant grin, her sparkling eyes meeting his.

"Hey," she replied, her voice filled with joy and excitement at the sight of her best friend.

Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was. They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry was still sure he'd read the name somewhere. Once the term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry had even less time than the other three because Quidditch practice had started again.

Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side. If they win their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Harry found that he had fewer nightmares when he was tired out after training.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.

"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled.

"That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words.

"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud.

"When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too.

"It's not my fault," said Wood.

"We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

Which was all very well, thought Harry, but he had another reason for not wanting Snape near him while he was playing Quidditch.

The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess with (Y/n) reading a Muggle book. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him,

"I need to concen-" He caught sight of Harry's face.

"What's the matter with you? You look terrible." Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear but (Y/n) heard them and looked at the black-haired boy waiting for him to talk, Harry told the other three about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," said Hermione at once.

"Say you're ill," said Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

"Really break your leg," said Ron.

"Ok don't do that" (Y/n) said giving Ron a pointed look

"I can't," said Harry.

"There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny-hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione and (Y/n), Hermione leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart while (Y/n) helped him to his feet.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him, both girls leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron.

"Malfoy," said Neville shakily.

"I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville.

"Report him!"

Neville shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron.

"He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.

Harry felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate

Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said.

"The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Suddenly, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up to see (Y/n)'s warm, comforting eyes. She had always been kind to Neville, going out of her way to help him in classes and make sure he was okay.

"He's right Neville, don't let him get to you," she said, her voice reassuring.

"And if you want, I read a few excellent curses from the library, and we can practice them on that idiot any time we want." A mischievous smirk spread across her face before she ruffled Neville's hair, making him feel at ease. Neville felt grateful for (Y/n)'s presence in his life. She had become a close friend and confidant, always there to offer a kind word or a helping hand. Her offer to defend him against his bully made him feel safe and protected, and he knew that he could always count on her.

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

"Thanks, Harry and (Y/n) . . . I think I'll go to bed. . . . D'you want the card, Harry you collect them, don't you?"

As Neville walked away after saying good night to the quartet, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

"Dumbledore again," he said,

"He was the first one I ever-"

He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron, (Y/n) and Hermione.

"I've found him!" he whispered.

"I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel' !"

Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.

As soon as the words "Stay there!" escaped her lips, she raced up the stairs with lightning speed, leaving Harry and Ron looking at each other with confusion written all over their faces. They both turned towards (Y/n) seeking some explanation for Hermione's sudden departure, but she simply shrugged her shoulders, equally baffled. Moments later, Hermione reappeared, clutching an enormous ancient tome tightly in her arms, panting heavily from the exertion of her sprint.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly.

"I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"Light?" said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last, she found what she was looking for.

"I knew it! I knew it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically,

"Wait the maker of the Sorcerer's Stone?" (Y/n) said, now she remembered the name when she saw the book she borrowed from Hermione a week ago, making Hermione nod her head

This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.

"The what?" said Harry and Ron.

"Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look- read that, there."

She pushed the book toward them, and Harry and Ron read:

The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished.

"The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry.

"No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Ron.

"He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

"Clearly he likes life a little bit too much" (Y/n) said as Ron snorted at her little remake

The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match.

"I'm going to play," he told the other three.

"If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," said Hermione.

"Don't worry I know you can win even with Snape being there" (Y/n) gave Harry a smile that eased him a little

But as the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told his friends. The rest of the team wasn't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? Harry didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Sorcerer's Stone? Harry didn't see how he could yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.

Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Regarding (Y/n), she was noticeably absent when Hermione and Ron wished Harry good luck, which left Harry feeling a bit disappointed. He was hoping for some comfort from his best friend, as he usually does when he needs it. Her smile always reassures him that everything will be alright. However, he didn't know, she was waiting for him outside the locker room until he finished changing.

Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practising the Leg-Locker Curse with (Y/n). They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.

"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.

"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."

Back in the locker room, Wood had taken Harry aside.

"Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favour Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole school's out there!" said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door.

"Even - blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Harry's heart somersaulted.

"Dumbledore?" he said, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard. Harry could have laughed out loud with relief. He was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt him if Dumbledore was watching.

At that moment, he caught a glimpse of the girl he craved to see, and she gave him a smile that he had been yearning for. It was the kind of smile that lit up her whole face and made his heart skip a beat. He turned his attention to Wood, who seemed preoccupied with his own nervousness. Sensing an opportunity, he made his way towards the girl, his chest filled with anticipation. As he approached, he noticed that she was holding a bright orange flower in her hand, which added to her already radiant appearance.

"Hey" Harry said returning her smile feeling himself forgetting about Snape instantly.

(Y/n) felt her heart race a little. "Hey, sorry I didn't meet you with Ron and Mione here," she said, her hand outstretched, holding a delicate flower. The boy's eyes flickered to the flower, momentarily confused.

"Oh, er- thanks?" he said, taking the flower from her. He was a bit bewildered as to why she was giving him a flower before his match, but he accepted it graciously nonetheless.

As he looked at the flower in his hand, (Y/n) continued speaking, her voice soft and gentle.

"This is an Azalea," she said.

"I've taken an interest in reading about flowers over the past few days, and I found out that this one symbolizes good luck. So, I stayed behind for a bit, looking for one around the school grounds. I also charmed it so you can keep it alive in your pocket."

Seeing the smile on her friend's face, (Y/n) felt a sense of pride and contentment. She was glad she could do something to help ease his nerves before the big match.

As Harry was about to reply he heard Wood's voice

"Potter!? For Gryffindor's sake, this isn't the time to lose a child!"

(Y/n) chuckled giving Harry a quick hug before backing up "You should go before Wood come over and drag you to the match"

Harry nodded tucking the small flower in his quidditch ropes

"Oh and Harry" he looked back at the (H/c) headed girl

"I know you will win"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione.

"Look - they're off. Ouch!"

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Does anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who. had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.

"It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

A Slytherin girl with black short hair and Hazel eyes spoke up, directing her words towards a younger boy who was known as Malfoy.

"You know Malfoy, if that's how they pick quidditch players, maybe you would be up for it next year. I mean, I am sure they did pity for having such a shitty father," she said, her eyes glaring with anger. Malfoy retorted with a sneer,

"Shut up Davies, at least I have a family." The group then turned their attention to Neville as he spoke up.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said,

"You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word -"

"Ron!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry - !"

"What? Where?"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

While (Y/n) was watching him anxiously as she stayed with Regulus in the Slytherin stands.

Regulus tried to convince the girl to stay with her friends by asking,

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with your friends?" He could see the stress in her eyes as she watched the match.

"Regulus, I've told you before that I don't want you to watch the match alone. Besides, Mione and Ron have each other. They should be fine without me," she replied, occasionally taking her eyes off the match to glance at the boy.

Regulus chuckled. "Well, I guess you're too stubborn to reason with. So, who do you think will win?"

"I don't know. It's hard to cheer on when your two friends are on opposite teams," she said, rolling her eyes at him.

"Well, I guess it would be. I mean, you do have a thing for befriending skeers," he teased.

"It's not li- OMG, REGULUS, LOOK! HE HAS THE SNITCH!" she exclaimed, pointing to the match.

Back to the other Gryffindors

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy. Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape - she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it - the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped - then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear.

"Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror . . .been keeping busy . . . excellent . . ."

Snape spat bitterly on the ground.

Harry left the locker room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. He'd really done something to be proud of now - no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur:

Gryffindors running to lift him onto their shoulders; Ron and Hermione were in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed. Harry had reached the shed. He leaned against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor is in the lead. He'd done it, he'd shown Snape. . . .

And speaking of Snape . . .

A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. Harry's victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognized the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner - what was going on?

Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the forest at a run. He followed.

The trees were so thick he couldn't see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree.

He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone.

Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying.

"d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus"

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy.

"Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all."

Harry leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Snape interrupted him.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I -"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking

a step toward him.

"I-I don't know what you -"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say,

"- your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't -"

"Very well," Snape cut in.

"We'll have another little chat soon when you've had time to think things over and decide where your loyalties lie."

He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing.

It was almost dark now, but Harry could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.

"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione squeaked.

"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back.

"I told you. You'll win" (Y/n) which made Ron nod happily.

"And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right - talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly.

"Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this...."

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, and then he told them what he'd seen and heard.

"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy - and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocuspocus'- I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through -"

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.

"Guess we have to keep an eye on him until then" (Y/n) mumbled to the other three.

Quirrell, however, must have been braver than they'd thought. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he'd cracked yet.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, (Y/n), and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe.

Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer's Stone. She had started drawing up study schedules and colour-coding all her notes while (Y/n) studied with her for a bit before constantly switching to her books about flowers or novels. Harry and Ron wouldn't have minded, but Hermione kept nagging them to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped.

"That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her.

"Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? Do you realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me."

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her and (Y/n), trying to get through all their extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window.

(Y/n) could see the frustration written all over Ron's face as he let out a deep sigh and put down his quill.

"Oh come on Ron don't give up just yet," she encouraged him, hoping to lift his spirits. Ron turned to look at her, his expression a mix of annoyance and exhaustion.

"Easy for you to say. You're as bad as Hermione - there's nothing you don't know," he grumbled.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help but smile at his comment.

"That's not true Ron. I'm as bad in history as Malfoy is bad at being nice," she retorted with a smirk, hoping to inject some humour into the situation.

To her relief, Ron let out a laugh and picked up his quill once more, his determination renewed.

(Y/n) watched him for a moment, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having helped him, before returning her attention to her own book.

It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming. Harry, who was looking up "Dittany" in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until he heard Ron say,

"Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once.

"An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious.

"Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively.

"And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St -"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening.

"Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry,

"about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy -"

"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh -"

"See you later, then," said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"It might have" Said (Y/n)

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.

"Dragons!" he whispered.

"Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him," said Harry.

"But it's against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709 everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden - anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Harry.

"Of course there are," said Ron.

"Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" said Hermione.

"Do you think he is going to buy one?" (Y/n) questioned as the other three shrugged

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed.

Hagrid called

"Who is it?"

Before he let them in he shut the door quickly behind them. It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused.

"So - yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," said Harry. There was no point beating around the bush.

"We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned at him.

"O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts - I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.

"We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Hermione went on.

"We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Harry, (Y/n) and Ron beamed at Hermione.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that let's see he borrowed Fluffy from me then some o' the teachers did enchantments Professor Sprout - Professor Flitwick - Professor McGonagall -" he ticked them off on his fingers,

"Professor Quirrell - an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?"

"Yeah - yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Harry knew the other three were thinking the same as he was. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything - except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harry anxiously.

"And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.

"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others.

"Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry," said Hagrid. Harry noticed him glance at the fire. Harry looked at it, too.

"Hagrid - what's that?"

But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard,

"That's - er"

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg.

"It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid.

As (Y/n) gazed at the mysterious object before her, a sense of wonder and excitement filled her.

"It's a dragon egg, isn't it?" she asked eagerly, unable to contain her anticipation at the prospect of witnessing the hatching of a magical creature. Hagrid, noticing her enthusiasm, nodded in confirmation, his own excitement mirroring hers. Together, they stood in awe, eagerly anticipating the arrival of a new and wondrous being.

"Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow.

"Got this outta the library - Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit - it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here - how ter recognize diff 'rent eggs - what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't.

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she said.

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire. So now they had something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighed, as evening after evening they struggled through all the extra homework they were getting. Hermione had now started making study schedules for Harry and Ron, too. It was driving them nuts. Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig brought Harry another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words:

It's hatching.

Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. Hermione wouldn't hear of it.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing -"

"Shut up!" Harry whispered.

Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? Harry didn't like the look on Malfoy's face at all.

(Y/n) leaned in towards her friends and spoke in a hushed tone,

"I don't know about you guys, but I think it's best if we don't discuss this topic right now. There's a noisy Slytherin over there who seems to be trying to eavesdrop on our conversation."

As she glanced over, she noticed Malfoy intently listening in, confirming her suspicions. Harry nodded in agreement and quickly motioned for them to leave, pulling their two friends along with them as they made their way away from the curious blonde.

Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology and in the end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid's with the other two during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the four of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it. They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open.

The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; Harry thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.

It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

"Isn't he beautiful ?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Hagrid.

"Aww he's so cute Hagrid" (Y/n) said in awe as she looked at the baby dragon

"Hagrid," said Hermione,

"how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face - he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance, there was no mistaking him.

Malfoy had seen the dragon.

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made Harry, Ron, (Y/n), and Hermione very nervous. They spent most of their free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

"Just let him go," Harry urged.

"Set him free."

"I can't," said Hagrid.

"He's too little. He'd die."

"Hagrid if you don't they would take you both away" The (E/c) eyed girl tried to back her friend but Hagrid didn't seem to be cooperating

They looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes.

"He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Harry's ear.

"Hagrid," said Harry loudly,

"Give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip.

"I - I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, can't."

Harry suddenly turned to Ron.

"Charlie," he said.

"You're losing it, too," said Ron.

"I'm Ron, remember?"

"No - Charlie - your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

"Brilliant!" said Ron.

"How about it, Hagrid?"

And in the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

The following week he was dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's Invisibility Cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

"It bit me!" he said,

showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief.

"I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There was a tap on the dark window.

"It's Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in.

"She'll have Charlie's answer!"

The three of them put their heads together to read the note.

Dear Ron, How are you? Thanks for the letter - I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible. Love, Charlie

They looked at one another.

"We've got the Invisibility Cloak," said Harry.

"It shouldn't be too difficult - I think the cloak's big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other two agreed with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert - and Malfoy. There was a hitch. By the next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey - would she recognize a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous. Harry, Hermione and (Y/n) rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed.

"It's not just my hand," he whispered,

"Although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me - I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me - I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

(Y/n) was fuming with anger and frustration. "That little git!" she exclaimed, her face flushed with rage. She couldn't believe how Malfoy was enjoying Ron's misery and taking pleasure in their predicament. She was also deeply troubled by the thought of the baby dragon being taken away to an unknown location if they found him. As she looked away from her friends, she couldn't contain her emotions any longer and let out an exasperated "ugh." In the midst of her distress, Harry attempted to console her while Hermione focused on calming Ron down.

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Hermione, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

"Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice.

"Oh no - oh no - I've just remembered - Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

Harry, (Y/n) and Hermione didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry told Hermione and (Y/n).

"We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

Harry and Hermione decided to follow (Y/n)'s suggestion and leave for their mission, while she stayed behind to keep Ron's company. (Y/n) had a strong feeling that the cloak they were going to use to transport themselves along with Norbert, the dragon, would not be able to handle the weight of three people and a dragon. Hermione, who was quick to agree, knew that the fewer people, the better, as bringing more people could potentially cause problems and attract unwanted attention.

After they dropped (Y/n) at the hospital wing they went to Hagrid and they found Fang the boarhound sitting outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them.

"I won't let you in," he puffed.

"Norbert's at a tricky stage - nothin' I can't handle."

When they told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot - jus' playin' - he's only a baby, after all."

The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle feeling Saturday couldn't come quickly enough. They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night, and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid's hut because they'd had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice.

"An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though the teddy was having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors.

Up another staircase, then another - even one of Harry's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier.

"Nearly there!" Harry panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Then a sudden movement ahead of them made them almost drop the crate. Forgetting that they were already invisible, they shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared. Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you -"

"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming - he's got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on - I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. Hermione did a sort of jig.

"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"

"Don't," Harry advised her.

Chuckling about Malfoy, they waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness. Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Harry and Hermione the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harry and Hermione shook hands with the others and thanked them very much.

At last, Norbert was going . . . going . . . gone.

They slipped back down the spiral staircase, their hearts as light as their hands, now that Norbert was off them. No more dragon - Malfoy in detention - what could spoil their happiness? The answer to that was waiting at the foot of the stairs. As they stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.

"Well, well, well," he whispered,

"We are in trouble."

"Do you think they made it?" Ron lay in bed, tiredness was evident in his voice, a result of the healing potions Madam Pomfrey had given him. Sitting beside him was (Y/n), her red heart necklace in her hand, caressing it gently. Her thoughts were running wild, wondering if their friends had made it, worrying about Ron's state, and of course, pondering over the secret of the necklace she held in her hands.

The girl appeared to be in deep thought as she spoke,

"With Malfoy sticking his nose in, it would be quite challenging to get past the professors. The cloak may make you invisible, but it doesn't make you untouchable." She let out a sigh and shifted her gaze towards her friend who was lying down on the hospital bed.

Ron tried to lighten the mood with a joke, "You know, I would have preferred getting bit by your snake over Norbert any time of the day."

The girl couldn't help but laugh at his comment, "Oh, please! You're just a scaredy cat, Weasley. Did you really think I didn't notice how you sat away from me when I sneaked Nitor into Charms class?" Her tone was teasing as she playfully nudged Ron's good arm.

Ron raised an eyebrow while looking at the girl in front of him.

"Well, what kind of an idiot brings a snake to class? I thought you wanted to keep him hidden?" he asked.

The girl shrugged and replied, "He was bored and wanted to tag along. Besides, he was doing nothing but coiling around my arm under my sleeve."

Suddenly, they heard a voice coming from the staff room in the hospital wing. Their hearts skipped a beat as they turned around to see who was coming out. To their relief, it was Leonora. They breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she wouldn't punish them for (Y/n) being out late in the hospital wing.

"(Y/n)? Madam Pomfrey told me what happened to Ron while I was working on healing potions but what are you doing here?" Said the older woman, Madam Pomfrey, who had apparently filled in Leonora about Ron's condition while she was busy working on healing potions.

However, when she noticed (Y/n) in the room, she couldn't help but ask her why she was there. "I came to see Ron actually I know I should be in bed but I wanted to make sure he's alright," The girl said, looking somewhat embarrassed, explaining why she had come to see Ron.

Ron remained silent, letting his friend do the talking on his behalf.

Leonora, however, wasn't convinced. She asked, "Hmm well then while you're here do you mind explaining why Ron has a poisonous dragon bite on his hand".

Both Ron and (Y/n) became visibly nervous. Leonora's tone became more serious as she revealed that it had taken a lot of convincing to keep Madam Pomfrey from reporting the incident. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, clearly annoyed by the situation.

"Salazar Rose I thought I was done picking up after you" she mumbles as she looks back at the two kids who were looking down ashamed they were found out

"Well?" Leonora raised an eyebrow signaling for one of them to talk

As for Harry and Hermione, they left the Invisibility Cloak on top of the tower. Things couldn't have been worse. Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where they sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Hermione was trembling. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories chased each other around Harry's brain, each more feeble than the last. He couldn't see how they were going to get out of trouble this time. They were cornered. How could they have been so stupid as to forget the cloak? There was no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall would accept for their being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest Astronomy Tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and the Invisibility Cloak, and they might as well be packing their bags already. Had Harry thought that things couldn't have been worse? He was wrong. When Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville.

"Harry!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw the other two.

"I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag -"

Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the three of them.

"I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the Astronomy Tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves."

It was the first time Hermione had ever failed to answer a teacher's question. She was staring at her slippers, as still as a statue.

"I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," said Professor McGonagall.

"It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"

Harry caught Neville's eye and tried to tell him without words that this wasn't true because Neville was looking stunned and hurt.

Poor, blundering Neville - Harry knew what it must have cost him to try and find them in the dark, to warn them.

"I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall.

"Four students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions - yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous - and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" Harry gasped - they would lose the lead, the lead he'd won in the last Quidditch match.

"Fifty points each," said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.

"Professor - please -"

"You can't -"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students."

A hundred and fifty points were lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the House Cup. Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. How could they ever make up for this?

After explaining what had happened to them Leonora sighed

The woman with curly hair looked at the two first-year students with a sense of urgency and determination. "Well come on, I am taking you back to your dorm," she said, which made both Ron and (Y/n) look at her in confusion.

Ron's expression was one of disbelief, "Wait, that's it?" he asked in surprise.

(Y/n) too was astonished, "You're not going to report this to Professor Dumbledore?" she exclaimed. Leonora, the curly-haired woman, looked at them with a frown and shook her head.

"What do you think I am, a snitch?" she asked indignantly.

"You guys solved the problem anyways, why would I report it to Dumbledore? If I wanted to do that, I would have done it the moment Madam Pomfrey rushed to my office asking for an antidote for Ron."

Both kids let out a breath of relief. The thought of getting in trouble with the headmaster was too much to bear. But right now, (Y/n) had to focus on getting out of the hospital wing without being seen.

"But right now, we have to get you out of here before someone else sees you. Come on," Leonora continued, making them nod in agreement. (Y/n) bid Ron goodbye as she and Leonora left the hospital wing.

As they were strolling towards the Gryffindor common room, the head girl with (H/c) hair remembered something that had been bothering her for quite some time. She fidgeted with a necklace that lay in her pocket and then turned to the older woman walking beside her.

"Um, Leonora?" she asked hesitantly, seeking her attention.

Leonora, her companion, turned to her with a curious expression.

"Do you think you could tell me what this necklace does?" The girl inquired, her eyes hopeful. Leonora's gaze fell on the girl's hand and she noticed something familiar that she hadn't seen in eleven years. Her heart began pounding furiously in her chest as she remembered the necklace instantly, causing her to stop in her tracks. The eleven-year-old stopped too, looking up at her with a questioning expression.

"Where did you get this?" Leonora asked nervously, trying to keep her voice from breaking in front of the girl.

"I-it was sent to me last Christmas, and I was going to ask you about it, but you were always busy in the hospital wing working until late at night. I didn't want to interrupt you because I saw how hard you were working," the girl explained.

Leonora gently took the necklace from the little girl, holding it with care as she examined it closely. Her eyes softened as she looked at the piece of jewelry and a sad smile appeared on her lips.

"That was your mother's favourite necklace," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"The first one your father gave to her when we were in our fifth year at Hogwarts."

The girl looked up at Leonora with curious eyes, intrigued by the story behind the necklace.

"When I wore it, it showed me something like a vision or a memory," she explained, her voice trailing off. "I think... I don't know. It happens only when I wear it."

Intrigued, Leonora decided to try the necklace on herself. But to her surprise, nothing happened. The necklace remained still and lifeless, unlike how it had reacted when the little girl had worn it in her room.

"Why doesn't it work?" the girl asked, looking up at Leonora with a puzzled expression.

"Maybe it's bewitched only for you to see the things inside of it," Leonora suggested, handing the necklace back to the little girl. They found themselves standing in front of Gryffindor's common room, and Leonora knew it was time for the girl to rest.

"Well, I think you should rest for a while. We will see that necklace another time, yeah?" she said, smiling kindly at the girl while ruffling her hair making it a bit missy.

The little girl nodded and entered the common room after saying the password, feeling a little tired. She didn't notice Hermione sitting on her bed, waiting for her to come back.

"Where have you been?!" Hermione whispered, yelling so as not to wake up the other girls in the dorm.

"Where have I been? I thought you guys should have picked me up after sending Norbert away. Where have you been?" the little girl whispered back, raising an eyebrow at Hermione as she threw herself onto her own bed.

"McGonagall caught us and took a hundred and fifty points out of our house points because she thought we tricked Neville and Malfoy into thinking there was a dragon," Hermione explained, her voice filled with frustration.

The girl sat up so fast that Hermione thought she would be suffering from a whiplash.

"What!?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

Harry didn't sleep all night. He could hear Neville sobbing into his pillow for what seemed like hours.

Harry couldn't think of anything to say to comfort him. He knew Neville, like himself, was dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they'd done? At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the House points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly have a hundred and fifty points fewer than yesterday? And then the story started to spread: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all those points, he and a couple of other stupid first years.

From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school, Harry was suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the House Cup. Everywhere Harry went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted him. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past them, whistling and cheering,

"Thanks, Potter, we owe you one!"

Only Ron stood by him while (Y/n) ran off after some kids in their year for insulting the boy.

"They'll all forget this in a few weeks. Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them."

"They've never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?" said Harry miserably.

"Well - no," Ron admitted.

It was a bit late to repair the damage, but Harry swore to himself not to meddle in things that weren't his business from now on.

He'd had it with sneaking around and spying. He felt so ashamed of himself that he went to Wood and offered to resign from the Quidditch team.

"Resign?" Wood thundered.

"What good'll that do? How are we going to get any points back if we can't win at Quidditch?"

But even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team wouldn't speak to Harry during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him "the Seeker."

Hermione and Neville were suffering, too. They didn't have as bad a time as Harry, because they weren't as well-known, but nobody would speak to them, either. Hermione had stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her head down and working in silence. Harry was almost glad that the exams weren't far away. All the studying he had to do kept his mind off his misery. He, (Y/n), Ron, and Hermione kept to themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions. . . .

Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Harry's new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern him was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As he drew closer, he heard Quirrell's voice.

"No - no - not again, please -"

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry moved closer.

"All right - all right -" he heard Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Harry didn't think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway toward it before he remembered what he'd promised himself about not meddling.

All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step - Quirrell seemed to have given in at last. Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy and (Y/n) was trying to memorize spells from DADA. Harry told them what he'd heard.

"Snape's done it, then!" said Ron.

"If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell -"

"There's still Fluffy, though," said Hermione.

"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them.

"I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?"

The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could.

"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."

"Or we could just mind our own business" (Y/n) said as she knew how what would happen to them if they were caught yet again, especially Harry and Hermione.

Plus she has her own secret she wants to discover and she won't be able to if she gets expelled from Hogwarts especially not because Snape wants a lot of money and a long life.

"Oh come on (N/n) not you too!"

"Come on Mione do you think Dumbledore will believe us?"

"And we've got no proof!" said Harry backing up his best friend.

"Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor - who do you think they'll believe him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore thinks we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining."

Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn't.

"If we just do a bit of poking around -"

"No," said Harry flatly,

"we've done enough poking around."

He pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and started to learn the names of its moons.

The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Hermione, and Neville at the breakfast table. They were all the same:

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.

Harry had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furore over the points they'd lost. He half expected Hermione to complain that this was a whole night of studying lost, but she didn't say a word. Like Harry, she felt they deserved what they'd got.

At eleven o'clock that night, they said goodbye to Ron and (Y/n) in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there - and so was Malfoy. Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too.

"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them.

"Oh yes . . . hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me. . . . It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out . . . hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed. . . . Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing.

Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Harry's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. His relief must have shown on his face because Filch said,

"I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy - it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual.

"We can't go in there at night - there are all sorts of things in there- werewolves, I heard."

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry's robe and made a choking noise.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee.

"Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

"Abou' time," he said.

"I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly,

"they're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch.

"Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch,

"for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.

"I'm not going in that forest," he said, and Harry was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely.

"Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd -"

"- tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled.

"Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!"

Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid,

"Now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid,

"see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid.

"An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff 'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid.

"So me, Harry, an' Hermione'll go one way an' Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now - that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth's path, and Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Neville, and Fang took the right. They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves. Harry saw that Hagrid looked very worried.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid.

"It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

They walked past a mossy tree stump. Harry could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

"You all right, Hermione?" Hagrid whispered.

"Don' worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter - GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

Back at the common room

Ron and (Y/n) were sitting in the common room, trying to study while waiting for Harry and Hermione to return from their detention. Ron looked up from his Charms book and asked,

"What do you think they would make them do at detention?"

(Y/n) groaned and closed her Transfiguration book. She felt bad for not going with Harry and Hermione when they were sending Norbert away and was worried about what Flinch might make them do.

"I don't know, but I bet it can't be good as long as Malfoy is there," she said, frowning as she thought about Flinch's sick love for torturing kids.

"Don't stress too much, they'll be just fine," Ron tried to comfort her, patting her back. (Y/n) chuckled.

"Weird how lately one of us always ends up comforting the other when we're stressed," she said, and Ron smiled at her words, feeling a sense of brotherly warmth.

"Well, you're like a second Ginny, only if she wasn't so annoying sometimes," Ron teased. (Y/n) gasped and looked at him with a fake hurt look in her eyes.

"Oh, Ronniekins and I thought we had something special! Way to break my heart, mate," she put her hand on her forehead dramatically, pretending to be heartbroken. Ron laughed and threw his head back, forgetting about their books.

"Come on now, why would you want me when you have three golden boys always at your tail?" Ron teased again, and (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, looking at him quizzically.

"Three who?" she asked, and Ron mimicked her expression.

"Three you. What do you mean by three who? You know who I am talking about: Cedric, Regulus, and Harry," he said, and (Y/n) gasped again.

"What? No way, that's not true. I mean, first, Cedric is too old for me-"

"Two years aren't that much," Ron interrupted.

"-Second, Regulus, I don't know, but I just have this 'ugh' feeling when you mentioned us-"

"You know that's just a phase, right?"

"-And lastly, Harry? Are you for real? That's my best friend, Ron. He isn't at 'my tail all the time.'"

"Oh, come on, seriously? Harry looks at you with little hearts in his eyes," Ron said, and at his words, (Y/n)'s heart skipped a beat, but she shook her head in disbelief.

The conversation between the two was getting heated as they argued back and forth.

"He does not," she insisted firmly, her voice betraying her frustration.

"He does, yes," the other person countered with equal force.

"Does not!"

"Does yes!"

At that moment, (Y/n) spoke up, addressing Ron,

"Didn't you just say that I'm like a second Ginny? I didn't know brothers could play matchmakers and set up their sisters with their best friends," she said with a hint of sarcasm. Ron couldn't help but laugh at her comment, causing (Y/n) to roll her eyes.

"Whatever, you're insufferable," (Y/n) finally said, giving up on the argument.

"And you're delusional, but you don't see me complaining," Ron smirked, looking at (Y/n) with a sense of victory as he saw her face and her inability to come up with a retort.

(Y/n) glared at Ron, feeling frustrated and embarrassed. She longed to wipe the smirk off his face but didn't know how.

"Ugh, I can't take this anymore. I'm going to wait for them in my dorm," she said, snatching her books and trying to hide her flustered expression.

Ron's laughter only made things worse, and she felt like she had become the target of his amusement for the last few minutes.

"Study by yourself!" (Y/n) shouted as she stormed off towards the girls' dorm, not wanting to study with Ron anymore.

Despite her irritation, she couldn't help but smile softly at the sound of his laugh echoing through the common room.

Back to detention

Hagrid seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

"I knew it," he murmured.

"There's summat in here that shouldn' be."

"A werewolf?" Harry suggested.

"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Hagrid grimly.

"Right, follow me, but careful, now."

They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound.

Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called.

"Show yerself - I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came - was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, was a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione's jaws dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief.

"How are yeh?"

He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice.

"Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow.

"There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter an' Hermione Granger, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur."

"We'd noticed," said Hermione faintly.

"Good evening," said Ronan.

"Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"Erm -"

"A bit," said Hermione timidly.

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky.

"Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too.

"Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt - you seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said.

"So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

"Yeah," said Hagrid,

"but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently.

"Unusually bright."

"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home," said Hagrid.

"So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets."

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied and wilder-looking than Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid.

"All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"

"Well, enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured - would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward.

"Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.

"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily.

"Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."

Harry and Hermione followed him out of the clearing, staring over their shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view.

"Never," said Hagrid irritably,

"try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, a fair few. . . . Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but

they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs . . . they know things . . . jus' don' let on much."

"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Harry.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns - never heard anythin' like it before."

They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid's arm.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted.

"Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"

They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" whispered Hermione.

"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Neville . . . it's our fault he's here in the first place."

The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry's seemed to be picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others?

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Neville, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups - Neville, you stay with me an' Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry,

"but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta get this done."

So Harry set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

"Look -" he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.

It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

Harry had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered. . . . Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animals side, and began to drink its blood.

"AAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted - so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry - unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward Harry - he couldn't move for fear.

Then a pain like he'd never felt before pierced his head; it was as though his scar were on fire. Half blinded, he staggered backwards.

He heard hooves behind him, galloping, and something jumped clean over Harry, charging at the figure.

The pain in Harry's head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body.

"Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet.

"Yes - thank you - what was that?"

The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Harry's forehead.

"You are the Potter boy," he said.

"You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.

"My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself onto his front legs so that Harry could clamber onto his back.

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

"Firenze!" Bane thundered.

"What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"Do you realize who this is?" said Firenze.

"This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this forest, the better."

"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane.

"Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"

Ronan pawed the ground nervously.

"I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his back legs in anger.

"For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"

Firenze suddenly reared onto his hind legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.

"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane.

"Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."

And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

Harry didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Why's Bane so angry?" he asked.

"What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?"

Firenze slowed to a walk, and warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Harry's question.

They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn't want to talk to him anymore.

They were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"No," said Harry, startled by the odd question.

"We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze.

"Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price.

You have slain something pure and defenceless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Harry stared at the back of Firenze's head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight.

"But who'd be that desperate?" he wondered aloud.

"If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?"

"It is," Firenze agreed,

"unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else - something that will bring you back to full strength and power - something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course - the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who -"

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry's heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met:

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die."

"Do you mean," Harry croaked,

"that was Vol -"

"Harry! Harry, are you all right?"

Hermione was running toward them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her.

"I'm fine," said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying.

"The unicorns dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn.

"You are safe now."

Harry slid off his back.

"Good luck, Harry Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."

He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Harry shivering behind him.

[archesa]

naughty asks: E, F, K for trammander :eyes:

Wiiii! Thanks a lot 🥰 here's some more Trammander content 😄 hope they will satisfy your curiosity 😏😁

E for Exposed - What is the most daring place they’ve had sex?

Already answered here, but to give you another glimpse, there was a time where they almost...

Summer was coming to its end, and the Farens hosted the last ball of the season. A monumental event! One Trahearne and Anwen were expected to attend!

Of course, being hosted by her parents, in her childhood home, the soirée promised to be less tedious than those they had carefully avoided all summer.

The evening was late and spirits ran free, loosening the tongues and sharpening wounded egos it seemed when one of the guests drunkenly slurred something the guests would not dignify with words about the daughter of their hosts.

Anwen disappeared from the ball room, hearing only the next morning of how the indelicate guest had soiled himself after Trahearne had lifted him three foot off the floor and tossed him to the street to challenge him to a duel.

The incident forgotten, the soirée had resumed, and Trahearne, and the Lords Faren, the younger and the elder, had eclipsed themselves to search for their dearest.

Trahearne found her in the gardens, hidden in an alcove, her breathing sharp and her features drawn, her lips red where she had bit them not to shed the tears of rage burning her lids.

The last time she had been thus insulted, she was seventeen, and she had thrown the responsible out of a window. The word had spread like wildfire and to this day, ten years later, was still the gossip of Divinity’s Reach.

She did not want any slander tonight, did not want to attract any unwanted attention on them, or to sully Trahearne’s reputation when he had already suffered the cruel scorn of the Pact.

Trahearne consoled her, reassured her that the opprobrium of Divinity’s Reach nobility mattered little to him, and that he’d always stand by her, as one. And in the midst of this tender moment, one thing led to another, and soon they were entangled in a very intimate position.

The sound of voices broke the moment before anyone could see them, hidden as they were in the grove, but give or take a few more minutes, they might have had a very embarrassing family reunion!

F for Favorite - What do they find sexiest about their partner

Already answered here 😁 Apart from his glow, Anwen loves his smile, and especially the wrinkles forming at the corner of his eyes when he laughs.

And for Trahearne, it's the light that seems to be shining through her — even before she was the Champion of Aurene! She is stellar and he loves watching her shine.

K for Kink - What’s their secret kink?

Accidentally answered here 😅 Apart from that, well... They take full advantage of Trahearne's strength and size 😏