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daydreaming-nerd · 1 month

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You Want a Baby? (Bat Boys x Female! Reader)

Based off of multiple resquests... and by all means request more of this shit. My Ruhn asks have been kind dry. Would hate for the frat pack to run a train on the reader...

AN: You guys I spent so much time on this I hope it lives up to expectation because this is my kind of thing.

Summary: It's the perfect storm, you're ovulating, all your mates happen to be home and they all want to see you pregnant with their child.

Warnings: Double penetration, breeding kink, size kink, possessive mates, Over stim, literally so many things I'm probably forgetting

Word count: 3738

It was that time of the month, well not THAT time.

Fae periods were a bitch, that much was true. But fae ovulating? It was a whole different thing. The need to be touched, to be filled, was excruciating. Ever since I had found my mates, three of them to be exact, it was like all those sensations had been heightened. Every time I ovulated, all three of my mates couldn't be present.

The first time Rhysand was meeting with Tarquin leaving only Cassian and Azriel to fuck me senseless. The next time around it was just Azriel to keep me sated. One of the most memorable times was last year when it was just Rhys and Cassian to help. However, I patiently waited for a day when all three mates would be here to take care of me, a day I secretly hoped would be today.

I woke up this morning to an empty bed and a note that said they had all gone to Windhaven to check on the Illyrian camps. I didn’t mind their absence too much until later that afternoon when I felt my body start to sweat with need. I went to the bathroom to strip off my clothes, leaving me only in the black lingerie that Azriel had bought me for solstice last year. I couldn’t help but admire myself, running my hands down my body. It wasn’t until then that I realized what was going on, I was ovulating.

The boys were in Windhaven which meant there was a possibility that they could all be here by tonight. But with the tensions in the Illyrian camps high, I knew it was most likely a long shot. So I spent the day dancing around the townhouse in nothing but my lingerie, loving the feeling of the fresh air on my skin. As the sky got darker I realized my mates weren’t likely to come home.

I made my way upstairs to our oversized bed and tossed myself on top of the covers. I tried to sleep and push all thoughts of Rhysand’s hands, Azriel’s tongue and, Cassian’s cock from my mind. I was unsuccessful, and ended up finding myself writing all over our shared bed, begging for any kind of friction the sheets offer me. That’s how the boys found me, squirming around our bed in nothing but my lingerie.

“Well, what do we have here?” Cassian drawled, leaning against the doorway.

I sat up straight, trying to act like I wasn’t about to reach a hand down my panties just seconds ago.

“I told you both,” Azriel said smugly, walking into the room with Rhysand in tow.

“Told them what?” I ask bringing my knees to my chest in a lame attempt to cover myself.

“I told them that you were ovulating today,” Azriel smirked. “I’ve been tracking your cycle since I got left out last time,” he looked to Cass and Rhys with a death glare.

“We got back from Windhaven a few hours and decided to get a drink at Rita’s,” Rhysand explained, stalling towards where I sat on the bed. “We were talking about you.”

“You were?” I ask, sensing the seriousness in Rhysand’s voice.

“Oh yes we were little one,” Cassian laughs.

“We were talking about how amazing you would look pregnant,” Rhysand explained, his voice like liquid sex.

“R-Really?” I say, not trusting my own voice.

“Yeah,” Cassain answered, taking a step toward me. “We think we're ready for a baby.”

“Only if you’re ready though,” Rhys assured me.

My heart skipped at their words. The idea of carrying any one of their children excited me. I couldn’t lie, I had been thinking about it since my last cycle.

“What do you think, little one? Gonna let us put a baby in you tonight?” Azriel drawled, leaving a kiss on the shell of my ear.

I couldn’t even speak, all the intelligent words leaving my brain. All I could think about was how feral the fae were when trying to conceive. My legs would’ve fallen apart if it wasn’t for my arms holding them together. I nodded my head, still unable to think.

A collective growl filled the room as Azriel grabbed my arms and stood me up in the center of the room, leaving me on display for each of my mates. They closed in on me instantly and I had to crane my neck up to meet each of their gazes. Cassian’s hand slid under the strap of my bra inspecting me thoroughly.

“Which one of you bought her this little set?” Cassian said, slipping the strap of my bra off my shoulder while Rhysand worked on the opposite strap.

“I did,” Azriel said, rubbing circles into my hips as he left open mouth kisses on my shoulders.

“Well thank you Az,” Rhys smirked, unclasping my bra.

My body felt like it was on fire from three sets of hands roaming up and down it. Even if I closed my eyes I could easily tell who touched me where. The sensation of it all had me tossing my head back on Azriel’s chest, trusting him to support my body. He grasped my hips tightly to keep my knees from buckling as Cassian and Rhys stared at my breasts now free of the tight black lingerie.

“Look at those perfect tits Az,” Rhysand drawled.

I felt Azriel’s large hand drift up my torso and to my neck pulling me against his body even more so I could feel his hard cock pressed up against my back. His hand on my throat gently pushed my head to look at him as he said back to Rhysand

“They are perfect,” he smirked, craning his neck down to capture my lips in his.

“And soon they’ll be full of milk,” Cassian pointed out with a smirk, swiping a calloused thumb over my nipple.

Rhysand bends his head down to take one of my aching nipples into his mouth sucking it taut. The gesture catches Cassian’s attention and he leans down to give the same treatment to the other side. The sensation has me arching my back aching to be closer to them. I feel Azriel’s hands grip my hips and yank me against his body again. His hand comes to grip my throat once more as he sticks his tongue down my throat earning a moan from me. I feel Cassian’s lips pull off my tit with a pop as he watches me and Azriel.

“Gods sometimes I forget how tiny she is,” Cassian drawls running his hands up and down my sides. “Look at her with Az she’s like half his size.”

Rhys stops his menstrations on my other breast to see what Cassian is talking about, “She’s practically half all our sizes Cass,” Rhys chuckles.

“Gods I just wanna toss her around like a little doll,” Cassian curses.

“Do it,” Azriel smirks, pulling his lips from mine. “You know how much she loves it.”

Cassian says nothing before picking me up by my hips effortlessly and tossing me onto the bed earning an excited squeal from me.

“Told you,” Azriel beamed with male pride.

Cassian stalked towards me with Rhys and Azriel hot on his heels and I started moving up the oversized bed towards the headboard.

“Oh no you don’t,” he smirks, grabbing my ankles and yanking me down the bed. I wait patiently watching Cassian untie the leathers of his pants, my mouth nearly falling open as his large cock springs out. “Come here baby,” he smiles and I eagerly sit up and lick the tip of his cock.

I looked up at him through my lashes donning my most innocent expression as I took as much of him as I could in my mouth. The rest I pumped with my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Azriel and Rhys fisting their cocks at the sight of me sucking Cassian off.

“Good fucking girl y/n,” Cassain moaned tossing his head back in ecstasy.

I reveled in the salty taste of him, the feeling of every single vein in his cock massaging my tongue. I would never get tired of this, of pleasing my mates. Cassian pulled me off him and pushed my upper half down on the mattress. My panties are ripped off and discarded somewhere in the room. There goes that set.

“Stop Cass, make sure she’s ready, I don’t want to tear her,” Rhysand tells Cassian, the voice of a High Lord making its appearance.

Cassian bends down to inspect my pussy, running a finger through my folds to find me absolutely drenched. “Oh she’s ready alright,” he smiles. “God baby your pussy is so fucking tiny. It’s a miracle you can take us so well.”

“Cass please,” I whine, nearly coming undone at his words.

Cassian starts pushing his cock in me and the stretch has me backing away from him subconsciously. He grabs my hips and pulls me back towards him, pinning me to the mattress. I had been their mate for a while now but every time they entered me I still felt the stretch. Cassian was right, I was half their size, was a miracle I could take them.

Cassian started trusting in me at a fast pace and the sound of our skin slapping filled the room. To my right and left Azriel and Rhys continued to stroke their cocks and as much as I longed to put them both in my mouth, Cassian had me in such a state of pleasure I couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Fuck Cass look at her belly,” Azriel practically moaned. Cassian’s eyes snapped to my stomach where he could see the bulge from his cock thrusting into me. I moaned at the sight.

“Yeah, you like that baby?” He smirks, leaning over to capture my lips in his. His pace speeds up and within seconds he’s cumming inside of me.

Cassian pushes his cock in me a couple of times, his attempt at burying his seed deep inside me. He pulls out soon after and I whine at the sudden emptiness.

“That’s the one that’s gonna get her pregnant,” Cassian beams with male pride, his cock already hardening.

“Pfft, you wish General.” Azriel scoffs positioning himself between my legs.

He pushes in slowly and I cry out at the stretch once more. Each glorious inch of him brings immense pain and pleasure.

“Shhh be a good girl and take it all,” Azriel coos until his hips are flush with mine. “That’s a girl.” he moans as he begins fucking me hard.

My mind goes to mush almost instantly and the moans coming out of my mouth are damn near feral. The need to be fucked and filled by each of my mates runs so deep in my veins. My hands claw and scrape and find Azriel’s forearms as he slams his hips into me, seeking out his own pleasure.

“Az please let me cum, I-I’m so c-close,” I mewl, each word hard to get out.

“Not yet baby, you don’t get to cum until we all have a load in that little pussy,” Rhysand drawls, pumping his cock. “Speaking of, step aside Az I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“No, I’m not done with her yet,” Azriel growls, his possessive side coming out.

“You think I can fit in there with you then?” Rhysand asks.

“Now this I gotta see,” Cassian jests.

The thought of two cocks fucking my pussy at once has my eyes glazing over and my mouth falling open like I’m in some sort of subspace.

“I can take it,” I choke out between Azriel’s thrusts.

“Pick her up Az,” Rhys says, his voice practically dripping with lust.

Azriel doesn’t stop his minstations as he wraps one of his arms around me, lifting me off the bed. My arms wrap around his neck as my forehead bumps his and he stares me down as he fucks me mid-air.

“Good girl,” he rasps, proud of how well I’m taking him.

The next thing I know he’s lying me down again, Rhysand’s warm chest replacing the mattress. His hands wander up and down my sides trying to soothe my nerves as Azriel stops moving.

“Alright little one take a deep breath for me,” Rhys instructs and I can feel him lining his cock up at my entrance.

I do as I’m told, taking the deepest gulp of air possible, excited for what comes next. The second I let my breath go I feel Rhys pushing his cock into me aside Azriel’s. The stretch is more than any I’ve ever felt before but the sounds escaping Rhys and Azriel’s mouths make it so worth it. Once Rhys is brushing my cervix along with Azriel tears prick my eyes and Cassian is kneeling before me in an instant.

“Shhh breathe baby,” Cassian coos, glancing down to where both his brothers' cocks are seated inside my pussy. “Fuck, you’re being such a good girl. Just gotta take two more loads and then we’ll let you cum alright?”

All I can muster is a shallow nod as Rhys and Azriel begin thrusting in tandem. The constant feeling of fullness has me feeling numb while feeling everything all at once. I arch my back further and Rhys runs a hand down my hip to hold me in place so that he doesn’t slip out. My eyes glance to Azriel who has his eyes fixated on the bulge in my stomach being made by both his and his High Lord’s cock. All the while, Cassian brushes the sweat and hair away from my brow whispering praises to me.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” Rhys groans, the vibrations of his chest skittering down my back.

“Me too,” Azriel moans and within seconds I feel his sperm coating my walls just like Cassian’s.

Azriel cumming triggers Rhys to cum as well and even though I can still feel Azriel, the load my High Lord put in me is equally as distinct.

“Holy fuck,” Azriel groans pulling out of me inspecting his work. My breaths are so ragged and my vision so blurred that I can barely make out Rhysand’s voice.

“Take her Cass,” he mutters, or so I think. My assumptions are proven right when I feel Cassian’s arms snake around me, pulling me off of Rhys’ cock.

I whimper at the loss of the fullness as Cassian lays me on top of his chest stroking my hair and kissing my brow. My body vibrates and my heart pounds with the need to cum.

“Poor baby, you wanna cum don’t you?” Cassian coos tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. My eyes are glassed over and my face looks fucked out but I’m still able to nod.

“Make her cum Cass, I want us each to get one more load in her before we’re done,” Rhysand says, already fisting his cock.

“Rhys I’m not sure, look at her. I don’t think she can take much more.” Cassian warns, placing me against the pillows and moving down my body.

“Do you want her pregnant or not?” Rhys snaps.

“Of course I do,” Cassian says. “Can you take three more loads baby?” he asks me.

“Of course she can,” Azriel says, his cock already at attention from seeing his fucked out mate.

“I-okay,” I sputter, still vibrating at the need to be touched. At this point, I was practically bucking my hips into Cassian’s face.

“You want me to lick your pretty clit?” Cassian smirks using one arm to pin my hips to the mattress and the other to spread my folds.

“Y-yes,” I beg.

Cassian chuckles, his eyes fixed on my cunt, “Looks like we made quite the mess of her little cunt,” he muses and both Rhysand and Azirel peer down to investigate.

“Shit Cass it’s spilling out,” Azriel curses.

“Don’t worry brother,” Cassian assures him, as he presses two fingers inside me, pushing the cum deep inside me. “She won’t waste it. Will you baby?” He smiles at me.

“No, I w-won’t,” I say, meaning every word my body still shaking.

“Cass lick her little clit or I will, the poor thing is shaking,” Rhys orders Cassian.

Cassian doesn’t waste a moment before lowering his mouth to my pussy and attacking my clit. It only took five kitten licks for me to orgasm harder than ever before. My back arches off the bed and the tension from my body pushes more of my mate’s cum out of my aching hole.

“Ah ah ah,” Cassian says, pushing two fingers into me again. “What did we say about wasting?”

“Cass it’s your turn,” Azriel bites close to spilling his load.

“Spread em’ baby,” Cassian smirks, spreading my legs for me anyway before burying himself inside of me.

“Oh gods Cass!” I cry out as he starts fucking me relentlessly chasing his own release.

“Fuck I love seeing that little bulge,” Cassian grins, placing a hand over where his cock hit my belly.

Seconds later he’s spilling his load into me, a sound coming from his mouth that I’ve never heard before. My vision nearly goes black, the only thing keeping me grounded is Cassian gripping my throat and pulling me up to kiss me as his second orgasm coats my walls.

“Who’s next?” Cassian asks, pulling out of me.

“Me,” Both Rhysand and Azriel say at the same time.

“Back off Az, you got to have her first last time,” Rhys growls.

Whenever I told people I had three mates they would usually joke about how territorial they would get over me. The irony was that my mates almost never had a problem sharing me, but tonight? Well, tonight was just one of those nights. When mates were trying to conceive they were practically feral, I was honestly surprised things had gone so smoothly till now.

“Yeah, and I literally had to share her pussy with you!” Azriel roars.

Cassain drags me up to lay my upper half on his chest so he can run a hand through my hair and whisper praises to me.

“I’m pulling rank, as your High Lord I’m going first,” Rhysand orders, nudging my entrance.

“Fuck off Rhys,” Azriel says continuing to fist his cock.

Rhys pushes his cock inside me with a groan as he bottoms out. My body shudders and on instinct, I move away from him but he grips my hips and brings me down his cock again fucking into me hard.

In my haze my head falls to the side, my cheek grazing Cassian’s abs, the very ones he let me rut on to get off a few weeks ago, and I meet Azriel. He looks glorious, pumping his cock while watching Rhysand fuck my hole. On instinct, I reach my tongue out and lap at the head of his cock catching his immediate attention.

“You wanna suck it baby?” He muses brushing his cock against my lips. I open my mouth wide, sticking my tongue out in response.

I know I’m so fucked out I can barely wrap my lips around him but Rhys pulling rank seemed like a dick move and I wanted to remedy it in any way I could. Azriel pushes his cock into my mouth letting out a guttural moan in the process.

“Good fucking girl,” Azriel moans and it spurs me on to suck him even harder as he fucks my mouth.

“Oh fuck,” Rhys roars cumming into me for the second time tonight. He knows better than to stay seated in me longer than necessary and pulls out as soon as possible. Azriel’s cock follows, his cock leaving my mouth with a bead of saliva dripping from it.

“Are you fucked out my love?” Azriel croons, grabbing my jaw to face him. It’s evident from my hazy eyes that I am.

“One more load sweetheart,” Rhys whispers, pressing a kiss to my brow. “You want a baby in your belly don’t you?”

“Uh huh,” I rasp still unable to form actual words.

“Open,” Azriel orders his grip on my jaw tightening.

Of all my mates Azriel was always the most dominant. I loved to test Rhys and Cassian, but when it came to Az? I knew it was in my best interest to be a good girl.

So just like I had a million times before I opened my mouth nice and wide for him. His hand gripped my jaw, keeping it open before he spit in my mouth.

“Now swallow,” he growled and I followed his orders once again. I opened my mouth to show him I had been a good girl and he rewarded me by pushing his cock inside me.

“What was that about Az?” Cassian laughed stroking my hair.

“Grounding her, if I’m gonna pump a load in her I want her to feel it,” Azriel groans. “We’ve done it before, haven't we baby?” he asks me and I nod enthusiastically.

Rhys wipes the sweat from my brow as Cassian presses a hand down where Azriel’s cock makes a bulge in my belly.

“She’s gonna cum Az,” Cassian informs his brother.

“Fuck I can feel it. Her tiny cunt is squeezing me so tight I can barely fuck her.” Azriel groans. “Ready baby?” Azriel asks me and I nod once more. “1…2…3…Fuckkk,” Azriel moans, spilling his seed into me.

Despite the haze that fills my head I can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment knowing I did it. I gave each of my mates two orgasms the evidence dripping from my sore cunt, wait fuck.

“Waste!” is the only word I can get out as I feel all six loads of cum spilling out of me.

“Shh, it’s okay mate,” Azriel coos, pressing a kiss to my brow laying down on the side that wasn’t occupied by Rhys. “Cass plug her up,” Azriel continues.

Without warning, two of Cassian’s fingers slide into my pussy keeping their combined cum from leaking out.

“Get comfortable mate,” Cassian chuckles. “We’re gonna have to sleep like this.”

And sleep I do. With Cassian behind me, my head on Rhys’ chest, and Azriel using my stomach as a pillow I’m out within minutes. I don’t know what the future holds as far as children go, but I’d say this was a good first attempt at conceiving.

pregnant! Reader x bat boys Drabble

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irb-pascalito-99 · 1 month

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Catch Me If You Can

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Smut, teasing, unprotected p in v, come play

Summary: Joel’s girl can’t stop staring at him while he’s fixing the table they broke.

A/N: This is an excerpt from Chapter Thirteen of my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing visit a03.

I lean back and watch the muscles in Joel’s back flex as he drills new bolts into the table. Beads of sweat roll down his arms and create dark patches on his t-shirt. I crawl toward him and kiss his neck as he puts the drill down.

“I think you should do this with your shirt off,” I mumble against his skin.

My hands slide underneath his shirt, trailing up his stomach and chest. Joel chuckles. He leans back slightly to give me better access.

I grab the hem of his t-shirt and pull it over his head. He lifts his arms as I do. Joel allows me a couple more kisses before he starts to work on the table again.

I chew on my bottom lip while I watch him. Joel doesn’t have defined abs or the form of a bodybuilder, but there’s no mistaking he has muscles. His arms and back flex as he picks up another table leg to screw into place.

I offered help when he started, but he wouldn’t allow it. Now, he focuses on the task at hand. His eyebrows crease as he bolts the leg into place. He shakes it firmly to assure it is strong before moving on to the next one. He looks over his shoulder to see me still staring at the definition in his arms and back.

“Careful now, I’ll start thinkin’ you only want me for my body,” he jokes with a wink in my direction.

“I like you for more than your body,” I lean back against a nearby wall while Joel searches for the bolts for the next leg.

“Oh really, like what?” He asks. I roll my eyes at his obvious attempt for compliments, but happily play into it.

“Well, turns out you’re good at making furniture,” I joke. He laughs and shakes his head before screwing in the next bolts.

I could think of a million reasons why I like Joel. He’s unbelievably generous. He’s smart, but he doesn’t rub your face in it. He’s amazing with Sarah, and so understanding with Ellie. He’s the kind of man who fucks you so hard against a table it breaks, and then spends the next afternoon putting it back together again. When he pauses with the drill again I continue with an honest answer to his question.

“You make me feel safe,” I say. He puts the drill down and turns his full attention to me. “I don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. I can fall apart a little around you. You make me feel safe.”

I keep my eyes on the ground. I don’t want to see Joel’s reaction to my statement. I don’t want to know if it’s too much too soon. We sit in silence until he picks up the drill again.

“You make me feel safe too,” He says. I lift my eyes from the floor. He fumbles with the screws in his hands. “I’ve been focused on Sarah for so long. It’s nice to be able to let go a little sometimes, have somethin’ for myself you know?”

My heart flutters at the notion of being something he holds for himself, that I could be as important to him as he is to me. I know Joel loves deeply, and Sarah will always be the biggest thing in his life, but I hadn’t thought of how lonely it must have been for him over these last several years.

Obviously Sarah’s mom leaving had left a hole in their family, but Joel lost more than a co-parent. He lost a partner, a wife. He’s never talked about her in a romantic sense. He hasn’t mentioned her at all since the hospital. I haven’t wanted to push him into opening up, but something about this conversation feels different. It feels as though he’s offering me something here.

“Did you have that with Annie?” I ask. Joel’s shoulders tense, and I fear I may have misread things. “Was it ever just easy?”

Joel focuses on drilling the screws into the final leg before he answers me. My heart thumps in anxiety. I shouldn’t have pushed. The weekend was going so well. Why did I have to push my luck?

“I guess it was for a minute there, when we were just young kids livin’ our lives,” He examines his work, shaking the table legs again as he continues explaining. He doesn’t look at me while he talks. “She got pregnant so early into our relationship though, so it didn’t stay like that for long.”

I debate on leaving it like that. Joel is clearly uncomfortable, but I want to know him better. I hardly know his past at all.

“Why? What happened?” I ask.

Joel rubs his face and then wipes his hands on his jeans. He doesn’t shy away from the topic, but I can tell he wants the conversation to be over. From what I can tell after conversations with Tommy and Sarah, Joel doesn’t talk about Annie with anyone these days. I find that strange coming from a man who’s been so adamant that I open myself up to others.

“It was just a lot of pressure,” Joel grabs one end of the table and turns it back over to stand on it’s legs. “Neither of us knew what we wanted or how to handle it. Our parents were furious. We thought marriage was the best answer but neither of us were ready for it. It was a giant dose of real world issues shoved into our teenage romance, so no it wasn’t ready for long.”

“Tommy mentioned you guys were on your own with all that.” I respond. Joel turns to me with a slightly angered look on his face.

“It’s not Tommy’s place to be sharing that,” he says. I shrink back into the wall slightly. Joel’s anger immediately dissipates after seeing my reaction. “Sorry it’s just, a part of my life I don’t want you to have to deal with.”

I try not to be angry that he chooses to hide that part of his life from me, but I find myself wondering why he doesn’t think he can trust me with it. He seems so keen on knowing my secrets and holding my darkness. I wish he’d let me do the same for him.

He doesn’t give me any more room to press him on the topic, choosing instead to bring the energy in the room back up. He picks me up and carries me over to the table. I squeal and kick my legs in the air, caught off guard by suddenly being thrown over Joel’s shoulder.

When he sets me down he places me on the finished table and stands between my parted knees. He places his hands on the surface of the table bracketing my hips. His lips come forward to meet mine, pulling me in for a deep kiss when he shakes the table roughly again. It stays firm on the ground, no creaking or concerns that it might collapse.

“Now that’s a proper table,” he says with a grin. He pulls me in for another kiss, immediately deepening it and bringing me closer to the edge of the table. As the kiss gets more heated I push him away. “What?”

“We are not fucking on the table again Miller, you just fixed it.” Joel’s big brown eyes morph into a sad pleading expression, but I refuse to cave. Instead I shake my head and cross my arms.

“Oh come on,” He kisses my neck, biting down enough to leave a mark on the skin.

“Joel” I moan and throw my head back. When he moves to the other side of my neck I shake my head to clear it and crawl across the table to the other side.

He stands with his hands still on the table. I grin at him while he gives me a grumpy look on the other side of the wood.

“Not on the table,” I say cheekily.

When he starts to round the corner toward me I run off in the opposite direction, heading for the stairs. I giggle as I hear him start to run after me. I’m halfway up the stairs when I feel his hands grip my waist and pull me off my feet. I kick my feet in the air and squeal.

Joel places my knees on the ground. I grab the edge of the steps in front of me and gasp when he grabs the waistband of my leggings and underwear, pulling both down my thighs. The material gathers at my knees as he fumbles with his belt.

“Joel,” I whine. The tension pulls in my center so much it almost hurts. I can feel the center of my thighs becoming slick as my wetness drips down the inside.

“I know baby. I know, I’ll make it feel better.” Joel yanks his own pants down enough that his cock springs out.

His hard length presses against my back causing me to moan as I press back into him. What started out as playful banter has turned into overwhelming need. Joel runs his fingers along my folds, groaning loudly when he realizes how wet I am.

“Oh darlin’, you need it bad huh?” He mumbles huskily into my ear. I nod my head, pushing myself back against him again.

He chuckles in response as he brings his hand back to his cock. He pushes his length through my folds slowly. I push my body back into his hoping that he’ll begin to fill me. I let out a hiss when the head of his member brushes against my clit before he pulls back again.

After a couple thrusts his cock notches at my throbbing entrance. I’m panting as I wait for him to press forward, on the verge of tears from anticipation. He kisses my shoulder while he pushes just the tip inside and freezes again.

“Please, please, please, plea-” I beg, cut short from the delicious stretch of his cock inside me. I throw my head back on his shoulder as he thrusts forward. His hands grip my hips to hold me still while I tremble around him.

Once he’s filled me to the brim he pauses to let me adjust. My pussy flutters around his pulsing length. I could probably come just from this, but he soon retreats and slams his hips back into mine. He keeps his pace slow, but his thrusts hard and deep. Each one pushes the breath out of my lungs.

“Fuck, Joel.” I moan as he thrusts in again. “It feels so good, you feel so good inside me.”

“Yeah?” He pants. His hands slip on my hips as he struggles to maintain his grip through the combined sweat of our bodies. Words are becoming increasingly more difficult as the pleasure builds so I nod my head in response.

I feel my core tighten and clench around Joel’s cock. He groans and starts to thrust harder and slightly faster. His hand slips around my front to start making small circular motions on my clit. The coil inside me starts to tighten even more, causing me to lurch forward on the stairs.

I rest my forehead on the stairs as I call out for Joel, no longer aware or in control of what I’m saying. Whatever it is, it spurs him on more. My fingers pull at the threads of the carpet on the stairs, undoubtedly pulling chunks out as well, while Joel’s fingers speed and supply more pressure. Something snaps inside me. I scream as I let go. Joel grunts as my pussy throbs around him, and continues working me through my climax.

When I come down my body sags against the harsh angles of the stairs. The only thing keeping my hips from the ground is Joel’s hand wrapped around my waist. I can tell he’s close. His thrusts become sloppier as he moans louder with each one. I feel him pulse inside me and he grunts.

He quickly pulls out and turns my body around on the stairs. Joel’s hands grab the front of the shirt I’m wearing, his shirt I stole off the bedroom floor this morning, and yank it open. Buttons clatter along the walls and railing of the stairs as they fly away.

With my chest and stomach exposed to the open air, Joel brings his hand to his cock. He pulls it rapidly. I watch him through hooded eyes while he moans. His eyes wander over my figure splayed out in front of him. Once he looks up to see my face he lets go with a loud growl. His seed decorates my body in ribbons, continuing to pump his length until he has no more left to give.

He grabs the wall with one hand and the railing with another as he breathes heavily with his head hung. I commit the sight to memory, certain that this is what all the greatest painters in history saw when they decided to capture the beauty of man.

His breathing begins to slow down when he opens his eyes again. He brings them up to me and remains frozen as I trail one hand down to the mess he’s left on my skin. I collect his spend on my fingers and lock eyes with him as I bring it up to my mouth and suck my fingers dry. He looks about ready to collapse from the sight alone.

When I pull my fingers from my lips he leans down and kisses me gently. His tongue licks along my bottom lip before slipping inside my mouth. As he pulls away a string of saliva connects us and then splits, seeking in the coarse hairs of his beard.

He stands up first, pulling his pants back up, and then helps me back to my feet. Joel pulls my leggings and underwear back up for me as I wobble on my legs. I keep my grip on the railing so I don’t fall. Over half the buttons on the shirt I was wearing are now hidden in the carpet of the stairs, so it remains open while I attempt to climb back up the stairs. Joel lets me try for a minute before picking me up and carrying me to bed for a nap.

To read more visit a03.

#pedro pascal #smut #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller smut #a03 fanfic #a03 writer #joel smut #tlou hbo #joel tlou #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller x reader #wip #pedrostories #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

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glitter-epoch · 2 months

Note

Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee

HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!

[ there’s a part 2 now :) ] ☄. *. ⋆ gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood

“my lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,” zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. “it would be a waste of time to check you in.”

you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasn’t telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so it’s not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...

and. there was, is, an and. you’re not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like you’re embarrassed to even suggest he might like you.

“i’m sorry,” you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that you’d arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. “i didn’t mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since you’re here...”

zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling.

“no,” he replied. “you should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.”

you blushed like an idiot. “ever?” you mocked.

“mm,” he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. “come with me.”

and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayne’s office. for a few moments, he’s left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory.

i’ve been personally invited to the office.

not like it’s the first time, though.

zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too).

“lay down,” zayne commands.

you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time he’s come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, you’re still sitting up.

“you can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,” he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “i can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, you’re putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.”

“i haven’t even shown you the wound,” you retort, not sure why you’re arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa.

“i see your handywork,” zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. he’s clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. “hm.”

you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands.

“is this bad?” you ask. “i’m sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.”

zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round.

he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad.

“not bad,” he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. “the paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.”

“and that’s bad?”

“you’ll be alright,” he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. “you won’t die, i suppose.”

“well, i’d hope not. it’s just a cut.”

“and what did you do this time?” zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures.

“i had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.”

“you impaled yourself, then,” he remarks coldly. “and xavier.”

he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it.

“xavier, yeah,” you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. “my partner. i’ve mentioned him, i think.”

“yes, you have,” zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. “lift your shirt, please.”

you’re grateful that he’s given you a task and you don’t have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose.

“ouch,” you hiss.

you realize you’re probably stressing him out.

“it’s not bad,” you add, uncharacteristically hoarse.

“it’s not,” zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. “but it hurts, i'm sure.”

you nod. “sure.”

“sure,” he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if he’s just making sure he heard you right.

zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says,

“you’ll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?”

your neck is suddenly clammy. “oh. yeah, sure.”

“if you can’t fold them down far enough, you’ll have to take them off.”

your eyes blow out like glass.

zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. “i would get you a cover, of course.”

“oh, how nice of you.”

he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal.

he inhales at the sound.

the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. they’re longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. “would you like to do it yourself?” zayne asks suddenly.

his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest.

you bristle. “god, no.”

“then why are you staring?”

you’re hoping he won’t finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say,

“okay. good luck. don’t mess up, please.”

he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. “i never mess up.”

the words ‘mess’ and ‘up,’ are foreign on his tongue, like he’d never refer to a mistake so casually, like he’s never made one in his life. he probably hasn’t, you think.

zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. “i’m going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.”

you nod. “sure.”

he chuckles again. “sure,” he hums, and then, before he presses down, “here.”

he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat.

zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures.

“this will be fast, too,” he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like he’s trying to will the fear out of you. “not as fast as that, but faster than you’d imagine.”

you nod. “sure.”

“there it is again,” he smiles. “sure.”

you grin incredulously. “i don’t know what else to say. you’re about to stab me.”

his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose.

“aren’t you glad it’s me, at least, and not some stranger?”

you’re busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. “i am glad it’s you, yes.”

your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adam’s-apple bobbing.

“alright,” zayne says, nearly whispering. “now.”

he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. it’s nearly a whine.

“i know,” zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.”

you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill.

“look at me,” zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh.

you peel one eye open and then the other.

“i know it hurts,” he says gently. “but you can’t move. i could seriously hurt you.”

“sorry, sorry,” you nod. “i know.”

the pools of his eyes are clear. he’s resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident.

“breathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i can’t work if you’re flinching away.”

“okay.”

his brows lift. “okay?”

again, you nod. “okay. i’m sorry.”

“no apologies,” zayne says.

he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly that’s unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass.

you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel.

“i’m going to try again,” he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. “breathe.”

well, i can’t now.

“got it,” you grind out.

“good,” zayne hums. “three, two, one...”

and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth.

“don’t,” zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. “breathe. i can see whether you’re doing it.”

the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh that’s been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers.

his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, you’re stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut.

“do you ever get nervous doing this?” you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isn’t wet just watching him do his job. “are you nervous?”

“no.” his reply is instant. “i’ve done this hundreds of times.”

you’re stunned. “i would be nervous.”

“you are nervous,” zayne murmurs. “close your eyes.”

the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone.

“no,” you gasp. too fast.

zayne’s fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. “no?”

you shake your head. “i-i don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.”

oh, sure.

he’s stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. “then i’ll tell you what i’m going to do before i do it.”

“that’s okay,” you exhale. i’m dying.

zayne’s eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up.

you’re not sure how it’s possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons.

he goes back to work without another word. you’re so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until he’s done.

“alright,” zayne says. “that’s it. don’t move.”

you keep your eyes shut, nodding. “i really can’t thank you enough, i-”

“watch.”

for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. “what?”

zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on.

“this is another cleanser,” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. “i’m going to clean around the sutures.”

you stare incredulously at him. “...okay.”

he’s not fooled by your aloofness. zayne’s right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming.

your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand.

he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up.

you watch like a fool. then, when he’s done, and you think you’ll have to admit to what you’re thinking, he furrows his brows at your face.

“did you cut yourself here, too?” he murmurs.

“where?” you croak.

zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. “mm. here.”

he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back.

you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if you’ll be able to somehow flee the office without another word.

“not yet,” zayne says. “lay back again. you don’t have to put your head back; just lean back.”

and you do it, instantly, because...well, because.

zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more.

as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he can’t look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister.

“you like to watch me work,” he hums.

his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over.

“shut up,” you bite.

he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving.

“thank you,” you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips.

his pupils are swollen. “sure.”

you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice.

“my break will be ending,” zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk.

you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches.

“what do i owe you?” you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare.

“nothing,” zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. “but go to the front desk before you leave. i’m going to call in a prescription ointment for you.”

you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. “oh, wow. thank you.”

as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says,

“i’d like to stay with you, but i can’t. i’ll be working until dinner.”

“no, no,” you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. “i’m fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.”

he still can’t look at you, but at that; zayne grins.

“i’ll call you when i get home,” he says. then, “is that okay?”

you swallow. “of course.”

“i want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,” he adds.

“oh, sure,” you tease.

his eyes darken, like darts. you’re almost afraid.

zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. “i’m glad i could be of service.”

he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says ‘service.’

☄. *. ⋆

this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deep space x reader #l&ds zayne #l&ds x reader #l&ds #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #l&ds fic #l&ds smut

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gildedkrone · 5 months

Text

As long as you're next to me, just the two of us

request from somebody asking for military reader with internalised homophobia. john price x male reader

"You really ought to not blow your cigar smoke onto me, you know?"

The warm embers of spent tobacco, an all too familiar sight in the dark, starry night, and he's smiling, albeit faintly. He takes an audible suck of air, and the embers glow brighter and fade into a dull orange.

"Thought yer used to it by now," Price blows the hints of something scorched gently across your nose and you fan the smoke away with a flick of your hand.

"I don't smoke, John." He blinks and nods to take another chuff of the cigar as you look away then back at him.

He says he knows. Infernally glorious bastard of a captain and he's content with the warm tranquility settled into the space and the cigar is the last thing the mind's got time for. On the rooftop, the stars are ever distant in the cosmos’s grasp and he moves to lay with his back to the railing, almost close enough to touch. But he doesn't come any closer than that and a healthy distance remains between you and him.

"How many years has it been?"

Five. Five years since he appeared in his lieutenant uniform with SAS patches sewn neatly onto the vest and now? Now, he's a captain of a famed task force and chasing a terrorist halfway across the world with a short break in between his ever-growing catalogue of missions. The rank suits him well, suits him and his beard nicely as he grew into the man standing before you.

All's well. If all's well, then why does it feel as if there's a divide between you and him?

"You know," his head angles towards you when the silence fills with murmurs, "I never did congratulate you on your promotion, John."

"Never too late to do so, sweetheart."

"You call everyone that? Bet your lieutenant wouldn't take it well. That mask—"

"Not him." The words are scented with woodsy, "Nobody else gets to be a sweetheart." And he's saying it so sincerely, it’s impossible to doubt the truth and intensity in his words.

"Exceptions? You're not being fair, captain."

He scoffs and you take the time to admire his visage with a subtle lean towards him. The left eyebrow hitches a little, then it falls back to its place and he's smiling warmly as the cigar burns away in crumbling ashes falling to the wind under the pale moonlight.

"How's your love life? Still seeing Sandy?" The sudden change of topic and you cock your head slightly and he grimaces slightly to have felt some sense of chagrin at poking the sore wound in your heart.

"We broke up a month ago." He lowers the cigar, "She just, didn't want to be in a relationship with a military man, you know? All the absences made her mad and she just ... left."

"On a Thursday afternoon."

He listens so attentively; he's reminiscent of the cadets under your care when they first arrive at sergeant bootcamp. A little awestruck and very much eager to learn and get going and you lean in closer for a look at the new-ish scar marring the area above his eyebrows.

"You've gone and hurt yourself again, eh?"

Fingers brush across the region of his face gently as his face is pliant in your hands and tilts with each nudge to facilitate your examination of his new battle scar. Eventually, you release his face and he runs a hand through his scar absentmindedly.

"You datin' again?"

"No such luck. Tinder's trash these days. All you'll ever find are people down to fuck and run. 's not much better on the other dating platforms too."

"Just women?" The parting of your lips and nothing comes out; the words don't come as they should.

"Just women. I-I ... I’ve never considered other men, John."

"Why not?"

It's a moment of confusion—you entertain his queries about manhood and love. What do you say to that? It's a minefield of emotions and memories tangled with barbs and spikes laden with the flags of youth and curiosity shaped into a spitball refusing to be verbalized.

"I don't think another man could ever love me. And ..." The forgotten cigar in his hands dull and the soft cerulean eyes are gently imploring you to continue, "I ... well, it's wrong and I ... don't know if I can do it."

He nods empathetically and you lean back into the railing to find fleeting interest in the moon. How did the conversation morph into this weird mess of clunky and awkward conversations?

"Well, I have a problem when it comes to dating." Oh? Go on, and he does go on.

"I met a man, and I don't know if he fancies me the way I fancy him."

"Really? I'm glad for you, John. What is he like?"

It's cute how his brows furrow slightly when he's in deep concentration and he says—valiant and resplendent. The vigor of the sun, the ferocity of the lion, and the tenacity of the stars.

"Valiant? Resplendent? You must really like him to hold him at such a regard."

"It's not an exaggeration, lieutenant."

Who had managed to capture John's heart to such a degree? You lose interest in the moon to lay the brunt of your attention on him. His eyes dart away into inkiness night then back at you and its kept steady as a sniper's hands in a high-tension scenario.

"Have you tried telling him? About how you feel?"

"You have tips? ‘M not sure quite how to break it to him."

He seems mildly amused by the chuckle and you regale him with strategies and tactics to win over the mystery man Price loves so much. Everything you’ve learnt from the trashy romance novels stashed in your drawers never to be seen any other service personnel. Even if they would never find their place with another man.

"So, a hand grasp and a head tilt, lots of eye contact, and a heartfelt confession? It’s certainly shorter than the list on the web.”

“Mmhm, it’s that simple.”

He asks if you would entertain his request to rehearse it. You humor him and step away from the railing to face him head on. He clears his throat and warmth envelops your hand in a hand shaped like John’s. His body posture is open and inviting, and he’s putting in the effort to treat it seriously.

His hands clasped with yours is so damn warm and fiercely domestic, and his fingers are gentle when they tilt your head upwards slightly. Something in your heart twists slightly at the endearment in his eyes; you’ve been privy to aggression, bloodlust, and anger in them. But not this. Blood hammers in your ears and you keep your face schooled in blasé calm even if his grasp is uncharacteristically soft and yet, harbored the love he had in his being.

“I love you, sweetheart.” The words are painful to hear on ears not meant for them and instincts are warring in your head in tumult.

You cough gently to realign his focus with the moment.

“Yeah, so, that is how you do it, John.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“That’s what you would say that to the man you love so much.”

His throat swallows harshly and his hand remains on your chin. He eyes search for something, and he says it again.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

What is he doing? He cuts you off before you can start.

“I’m saying it to the man I love.”

Whiplash. Whiplash at the revelation as your lips part to reveal hollow words and empty reconciliation of the revelation and your thoughts. No. This—

“I mean it. Whole heartedly. Fully.”

“John … I—I can’t love you, not—”

“I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

“Why? Why the fuck would you choose me? Of all the men and women in the world and you’ve gone and loved the one person who can’t give you anything! John, why?”

His hands are still clasped around yours and laced around your runaway heart. Don’t leave.

“Because it’s what the heart wants, love.” He tugs you in closer and in a moment of stupor, you feel the warmth emanating from him against the chilly night.

“It’s wrong—” And by god, it’s so fucking hard to tell him why it’s wrong when he’s looking at you like that. All worried and desperate to alleviate whatever you were feeling.

“I don’t want to be the fool who dies with a million regrets. And this is fixing it.”

He’s so close but he’s waiting for permission to breach the last barrier of that defensive wall built around the wastelands of the heart. He wipes away the tears which had formed, and soft lips are all you can feel when he closes the gap. Plush, soft lips press against yours and his embrace is all encompassing even as your eyes are shut to close out the world. He comes into view when warmth of his lips disappears and shakes rattle your body in his arms.

“I’ll be here for as long as you want me, sweetheart.”

He means it.

“’m not leaving, unless you tell me to.”

“John, I … I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out together. Me and you, we will find our way as a unit. Together, we’ll do it together.”

He is deadly serious again. “If you tell me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“No … I—I don’t want you to leave. I’m so fucking scared, John.”

“I’m here.” He is here. His hands on your back are proof of his existence in a world bending into a pinpoint of focus that is only John and his features and his exhales on your cheeks. What were you supposed to say? Or do?

There’s no need to do anything.

And maybe, just maybe, that is enough of a promise for you that everything is going to be ok—if it's John, and this was fine, more than fine. Your nod is what John needed to bring your foreheads together.

“Thanks fer trusting me, love.”

The hints of tobacco smoke don’t smell as acrid as they did a while ago and the night isn’t so cold anymore. Not when he wears his heart on his sleeves and draped over you in the moonlight.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist

#fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #john price #john price x male reader #john price x reader #male reader #x male reader #x reader #price fanfiction #cod x male reader

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danikamariewrites · 4 months

Text

Kisses

Eris x reader

A/n: I really loved the corruption Eris hc I wrote so I thought I’d elaborate just a lil bit 😉

Warnings: corruption kink (kinda), lots of kissing and thoughts about Eris

The thought of Eris’s lips hadn’t left your mind for days. It’s only been a week since your first proper date with your mate. Mate.

You still couldn’t believe it. And Eris Vanserra of all people. He had always danced with you at balls, making sure to be kind to you. It’s part of why you had been so taken with him.

The taste and feel of him mixed with those Summer strawberries lingered on your lips. It had affected you so much that you had found a lipstick to match the shade your lips had stained.

You had worn the strawberry lipstick every time you’d seen Eris this week in hopes of another kiss. Every time you were near your mate you found your mind wandering back to that picnic. The way he held you to his chest, his warm hands roaming your body. His warm, plump lips slowly melding with yours for sweet kisses.

A warm feeling began to bloom in your chest at the thought of Eris. A smile spread on your lips at the growing warmth. Signaling he’s closer to you.

Seconds later, the door to his living area gently opens and you’re met with his beautiful sharp face. Closing your book, you stand to greet your mate.

Instead of curtsying—a habit Eris made a point to break with you—“You’re my mate,” he had said on your second date, “and future High Lady, you don’t need to curtsy to me, my heart.”

Eris makes his way toward you with his arms held out. You throw yourself into his embrace. The bond singing at your reunion. Resting your chin on his chest you flutter your lashes up at him. A soft flame flicked to life in his eyes as a soft smile spread on his lips.

His loving gaze travels from your doe eyes to those strawberry pink lips. Eris sucks in a small breath, a slender finger coming up to trace your lips. “Beautiful,” he breathes out. A blush heats your cheeks at his touch and words.

“You are just stunning, little fox.” You bite your lip at his compliment, trying to hide your face in his tunic. “Hey,” his light laugh like music to your ears, “don’t hide, little fox. I haven’t seen you all day.”

The same finger that traced your lips hooks under your chin. You let him tilt your head up to meet that molten gaze. Silently, you slip from Eris’s grasp leading him over to the couch you have been occupying since this afternoon.

Sitting on Eris’s lap you drape your arms around his shoulders, lazily playing with the ends of his long hair. “How was your day?” You ask sweetly. Eris smirks down at you, “Ok. Better now that you’re in my arms.” Another blush creeps on your cheeks. Becoming putty in his hands. “How are you? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I’m good, I relaxed and read. Thought of you most of the time.” Eris’s eyes widened at the bold comment from you. His heart rate picks up at how adorable you are.

“Oh,” he drawls, “and what were you thinking about, specifically?” He raises a perfect brow at you. Mother above, you just want to caress his face. His perfect smooth skin is a magnet for your hands.

Your fingertips gently trace his lips. Moving to trace his cheek bone down to his jaw. You rest your palm against his jaw, pulling him slightly to you as you inch forward. Eris brings the two of you together, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ve been thinking about our picnic, those strawberries, your kisses,” you whisper. The want for more clear in your voice. Eris’s breath hitches.

“You want more?” You let out a small whine as you nod against him. Gods, if this is how you react to kisses how would you fare with everything else Eris has to teach you?

Eris finally touched your lips with his in a searing kiss. That familiar spark lighting between you. You melt into him, pressing your front to his. Eris’s mouth swallows your moans. His tongue prodding at your lips.

You slowly pulled away from him for air. Your chest heaving, your eyes still closed as you cling to Eris.

Eris leaves soft pecks against your lips. He gently nudges his nose against yours. “Gods, I need your lips forever.” You smile against his lips. “Please, want you more Eris.”

Eris knew at that moment he would never be able to deny you. Ever. Eris kept kissing and kissing and kissing you. He never wanted his lips to leave yours.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra x reader #acotar eris #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x you #eris x reader #eris vanserra acotar x reader #eris vanserra fluff #eris vanserra x you

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writing-intheundercroft · 6 months

Text

The Night Shift

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 10,206

Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)

Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???

Night One

“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.

You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties. You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.

“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages. Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons. Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded. So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.

With few exceptions.

But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day. You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching. It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people. You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.

Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.

“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.

“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”

“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”

“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”

“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose. “And very few days off.”

“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.

Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch. I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”

You swallow thickly. It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow. At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another. You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.

“Oi, Larson! Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.”

Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit. He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.

You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion. Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel. He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.

“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice. It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out. And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years. The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.

No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work. You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.

Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”

The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.

There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine. It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”

She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her. “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.

“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You’re doing fine, you think. You’re at the top of your field. You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you. The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.

A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.

“I’m happy. Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”

You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom. It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital. It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.

Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes. Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains. Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline. Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward. Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.

The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames. A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth. There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information.

“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful. Lost a few–even more are bleeding. It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”

“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them. Can someone bring me a coffee?”

He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.

You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name. Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain. And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.

Before you even realize it, you’re running to them. The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.

Sebastian looks awful.

Correction–Sebastian looks dead.

“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”

“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects. His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”

“Move,” you urge the two of them. They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.

Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love. You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.

“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath. The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.

You let out the blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.

To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised. Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year. You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars.

“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”

You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting. He’d be thankful now that you did.

“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”

You don’t want to. Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest. You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.

There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut. The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.

“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later. In the meantime, there are others.”

Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.

“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”

“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.

Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done. From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included). Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital. But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them. Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring. They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.

After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened. You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.

You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.

But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.

“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you.

You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest.

Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.

Night Two

You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied. Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.

“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps. She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”

“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.

“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.”

You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.

“How is Sallow? The patient in 213.”

She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you. Do you know him?”

You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.

After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door. It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.

“Come in!”

Shit.

You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you. He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.

“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”

“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns.

You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”

You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”

He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”

“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really? I’ve lost five damn years in my head? What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.” Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.

“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed. Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.

His smile fades. “What?”

“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie. Was it a lie? You honestly can’t remember.

“I would never,” Sebastian bites back. “I would never break up with you.”

“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay. We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”

“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?”

You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water. Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.

“Here, drink this. You’ll feel much better,” you assure him.

Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes. He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere. But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period. It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.

Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body. With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him. The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso. Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.

You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.

The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy. He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room. You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.

That had been two years ago. You wonder what’s changed since then.

Night Three

Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered. Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.

There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off. His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union. You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.

Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you. You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.

You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Anne,” you sigh into her touch. Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her. She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here? It’s so late.”

“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”

“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”

Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”

You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”

Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you. I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.

You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth. That we ended amicably. That we were fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.

It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt. Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde. It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.

“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.

“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”

You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact? Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.

That’s a question for another time, you decide.

“It’s late, you two should be getting home. Visitor hours are over.” you remind them.

“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry. I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”

“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours. I decide whose side I’m on.”

Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks. Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart.

After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave. You’re finally able to start your rounds. Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward. Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week. Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.

Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in. Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep. He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.

“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.

“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”

“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart. Nothing particularly new, and no memories back. He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies. It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.

“Open your shirt, please.”

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”

Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell. A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops. You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.

Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving.

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.”

You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”

“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian. Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”

“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me. Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”

You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.

Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that. I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”

“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again. You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably. One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.”

That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.

The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You’re engaged,” he croaks.

“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely. You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.

Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles. It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child. It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.

“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”

Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.

But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.

The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully. Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning. Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean. It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.

Night Four

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.

“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound. You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue. His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.

“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”

“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me. I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”

“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.

“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.

“I’m sorry for that. I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.

“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve. Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.

“I see you had quite a few visitors today.”

Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”

“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him). “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”

There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.

“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”

You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument. “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer. It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters. You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.

“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”

You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl.

“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it. She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”

You blink at him. He seems completely unbothered.

“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me. Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian. You’ve probably been dating a while.”

“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”

“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.

“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else. Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”

You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.

“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”

“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him.

Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”

“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind. Only ever thought about myself, my career.”

“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”

You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”

“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”

“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable.

Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”

You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”

“Nice. That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”

“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.

“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you’re the one who thought it…”

“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.

“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.

Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.”

“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”

“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold. I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.

“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”

Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?”

“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”

Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies. You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.

“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).

“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron. When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man. He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.

“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles.

You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face. The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful. Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable. And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore. In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.

“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”

Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen. He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights.

You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight. You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname. And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.

Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.

Night Five

Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room. But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.

The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you. At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes.

“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily.

You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”

“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”

You stride over, running your hands over them. Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars. They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.

“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”

Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”

“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart. I want the details.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.

“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.

“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”

“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.

“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure. That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.

“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”

“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.

“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”

“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have. You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”

“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”

“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”

“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”

“I didn’t know that. So I packed my things and left.”

The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back. After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work. Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted. Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love. He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley. Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.

“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.

“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror. A damn good one. The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.

“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others. I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.

“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”

“I was talking to Clopton about you. We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks.

“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement. A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it. But it feels right rolling off your tongue.

“Everett said something about you being engaged. It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight. And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.

“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.

“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay. That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly. “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”

“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him.

“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t. And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.

“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him. From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.

Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.

“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger. And that’s good–it’s good for us now. It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.

“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”

“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy. I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”

You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man. That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you. But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.

“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly. You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”

“You ran away.” You remind him.

“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love. You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”

“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest. I’ll leave you be.”

He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together. The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy. Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.

“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”

Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat. Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.

It would be insane.

You haven’t talked in five years.

He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.

He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.

Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration. At least he was when you were younger. Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even. The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.

Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.

Don’t marry him.

The words replay in your mind. It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years. That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.

It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.

Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.

Night Six

It has been a long, long day.

What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened. That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself.

You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.

You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room. You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion. Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.

When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual. Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.

This is it. This is the start of the rest of your life.

You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed. It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.

“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.

They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”

You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”

“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”

“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red. You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”

They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”

You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan. There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives. The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.

Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.

Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings. You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.

The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs. Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included. Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group.

“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head.

“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”

“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin. He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”

“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.

“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”

“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.

“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”

You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon. For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door. Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub. Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.

Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers. You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one. Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker. It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.

It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”

You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room. He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).

Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night. He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”

“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”

“Shut up.”

Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”

You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life.

“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.

“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him. I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life. He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”

You have been too, you think.

“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.

“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs. The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk. Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.

Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face. He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.

“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”

You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.” You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin. The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine. You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.

“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.

“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”

“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done. That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.

“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”

“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”

“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”

“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.

“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.

“Let’s try again.” you whisper.

Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you. You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips. It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years. You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer. His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.

“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

You have, you think. So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving. You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body. He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest. Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past. But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.

The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week. And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x anne sallow #Auror Sebastian #Auror Sebastian Sallow #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #writing-intheundercroft #this one got a little out of hand #should I write a smutty part two?????

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mountttmase · 2 months

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Winter Sun - Chapter 7

Note - the last chapter 🥺 from the bottom of my heart thank you all so much for all your kind words on this series. It’s been overwhelming seeing how involved you guys are, the last chapter especially and I hope this makes up for it. Feedback would be appreciated as usual and until next time, let’s enjoy our babies 🥺🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 8k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Masterlist

‘So I have a little favour to ask’ Carly sang down the phone to you and you couldn't deny the sound of her voice filled you with joy. You'd been home from Portugal for two weeks now and you’d missed being around her everyday. Your mood significantly dropping since you’d got back home but it wasn’t just the absence of your best friend in your life that was making you miserable.

Not a word had been exchanged between you and Mason since that night he left you in bed. Not a call or a text. Nothing. No sign of life from him at all and the longer it went on the more your heart broke.

‘Oh yeah, what’s up?’ You asked her, hoping it was nothing too much as you weren’t in the mood.

‘Welllll, Ben and I were hoping to host a little gathering at the weekend and I was hoping you’d come’ she asked sweetly but you could tell there was something else.

‘You know I will, so what’s the catch’

‘Fine’ she laughed. ‘We were hoping to make it a pizza making party, like do something a little different? Bens just got the new oven installed and wants to try it out’ she explained.

‘Let me guess, you want me to make the pizza dough?’

‘Well you are a professional baker’ she giggled. ‘Pleaseeee I’ll make sure I’ve got all your favourite toppings and I’ll get you a bottle of that fancy gin you like’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘I mean you’ll have to share it with me but of course’

‘It’s fine i’ll do it you’ laughed, thinking it would probably be a good idea to socialise again after keeping to yourself for a little while but there was a thought itching away in the back of your brain. ‘Hey, Carly. Who else is gonna be there?’

‘Oh the usuals, Dec, Lauren, Woody, Kayla’ she listed off and the omission of a certain someone’s name made you relax. ‘Bens also got a friend from home here and possibly a couple of the Chelsea boys might come. Oh and Mason too, he’s free that weekend’

‘Oh so quite a few then’ you breathed, your heart sinking as she finally listed his name off but you’d already agreed to go and couldn’t back out now no matter how much you wanted to.

You thought about it the whole afternoon though. It felt too soon to see him but you knew you’d have to get it over with eventually. It’s not like you didn’t want to talk to him, often finding yourself typing something out for him to message but you were too scared to hit send on anything as he was yet to make a move himself.

When you made it home, your concierge waved you over before handing you a parcel. You took it with a smile, the box being heavier than you first anticipated as it wasn’t overly big but you managed to get it upstairs and once you were in you tore into it. Unsure of what was inside until you’d taken all the bubble wrap off to reveal the hand decorated tip jar that Mason had painted for you. Your heart leaping at the memory of when he first showed you his design and you spent the next few minutes giving it a proper look over.

It was all still there, the pretty flowers and little cakes, the heart with gwens face in but what really made you melt was the detail on the bottom you missed. His initials, MM, in a little heart and you had to bite your bottom lip to hold your emotions in.

All you could think about was messaging him, just wanting to hear his voice but after how things were left you were still feeling unsure of yourself and if he’d want to talk so you resisted. Instead looking back at videos you’d taken of the pair of you on your week away, your favourite being the one from a pool day in the middle of the week where he was giving you a tutorial on how to dive into the pool. You could hear your voice over the speaker telling him there was no chance in hell you’d ever get in there and the sarcastic pout he gave you made you smile.

You managed to hold it together but as the days became closer to seeing him you could feel yourself freaking out. You decided to throw yourself into work and the night before you distracted yourself by making all the dough for the next day. Making way more than you needed to but it seemed to be your coping mechanism for the night so you didn’t think about looking back into his brown eyes again.

When you arrived at Bens the next night you were thankful that Woody and Kayla arrived at the same time and helped you carry everything inside and once in, you made the rounds and said hello to everyone. There were a few faces you didn’t recognise and when you were sat with Carly you watched a girl come from downstairs and lounge over the back of the sofa like it was her own.

You were constantly watching the door, waiting for a specific person to show and just like usual he turned up late so you were semi caught off guard.

You heard his voice before you turned to give him a once over and you hated the way your tummy sunk at the sight of him. The last time you’d seen him he was abandoning you in your bed as he made it clear you were nothing more than someone he wanted to fuck for the week. Now he was just Mason again and you weren’t sure you’d be able to differentiate between the two.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him though, watching him say hello to everyone before he got to the girl who’d come from upstairs and they both looked thrilled to see each other. Him wrapping his arms around her waist as she buried her face his neck and you had to turn away before you burst into tears.

Who was she? And why were they so cosy? You knew the pout on your face was visible and before you could stop yourself you were tugging on Carly’s arm.

‘Hey, Carly? who’s that girl?’

‘Who, Kenny?’ She asked but you could tell she wanted to roll her eyes a bit. ‘Ben invited her, they’re old friends and she’s here for the weekend’

‘Oh right… What’s she like?

‘She fine’ she shrugged but you knew there was more to the story. ‘I wish she wouldn’t lay all over the sofa like that though’ she laughed and even though it was in jest you knew she was serious. ‘I think Ben’s been trying to set her and Mason up for a while now but I’m not sure how well it’s working’ she told you and you felt your heart sink. You didn’t push her for anything else though and soon enough you felt a hand on your shoulder that was gone as soon as it came.

‘Ladies, how are we?’ Mason smirked, leaning over to give Carly a quick kiss on the cheek before looking down at you. ‘You alright?’

‘Good thanks, you?’ You asked, keeping still just in case he tried to kiss your cheek too but he didn’t move a muscle. Looking down at you with a blank expression and you hated not being able to read him.

‘Yeah not bad. It’s good to see you’

‘You too’ you whispered. Not sure how good it was to see him right now and his standoffishness was making your heart shatter.

Mason was about to say something else when the sound of his name being called across the room startled you both. Looking to see Kenny waving him over and he gave you a sympathetic smile before leaving you alone.

You couldn’t lie, his apparent coldness hurt and you had to turn away from Carly so as not to let it show how upset you were. The fact that he couldn’t even seem to touch you in some way for more than a second made you feel rubbish and you knew you’d be in for a long night which was only made worse by the fact Mason and Kenny seemed to know each other and Ben was trying to set them up. You felt him slipping through your fingers even more and you had to give yourself a mini pep talk to carry on.

Not wanting to be a party pooper you put on your brave face and went to sit with Kayla and Woody. Catching up with everything they’d been up to and reliving your favourite holiday moments before Dec, Lauren and a few others joined you. Dec giving you a sympathetic smile but you just shrugged your shoulders. Not wanting to speak about any of it.

You could see Mason out of the corner of your eye, standing with Kenny as they chatted just the two of them and you wondered why he never came to join you until Carly called you into the kitchen and they finally joined everyone else. Realising you must have been the reason he didn't want to sit with everyone and you felt your eyes sting.

You kept away from him on purpose after that, not wanting to keep him away from his friends so you stuck into helping Carly in the kitchen until she got hot and said she wanted to go and change. Leaving you on your own to finish up cutting the pizza toppings.

‘Sorry, y/n’ you suddenly heard behind you, the sound of Mason's voice making you jump but when you turned to face him, he was standing as far away from you as he could get. ‘Shit sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. I was just wondering if you could grab me a glass?’ He asked quietly. Head nodding to the cupboard above your head so with a quick nod you pulled one out and handed it to him.

Your fingers brushed, just for a second, but when you looked up he was looking down still. Unable to meet your eyes so you turned back around to continue chopping.

You heard him move, thinking he would be leaving but when you felt him next to you your heart gave a thud. Carrying on chopping as he faced inwards towards the kitchen but you were waiting for him to speak first.

‘Sorry we haven’t spoken much lately, I’ve just had a lot on’ he told you quietly and you knew it was the worst excuse in the world from him. The way he didn’t care enough to be honest with you made you feel sick and you had no idea how to respond

‘S’fine’ you shrugged, eyes down as you bit the inside of your cheek.

‘No it’s not. I know I just left and that wasn't cool’

‘Its fine’

‘Y/n-‘

‘Mase?’ Ben suddenly called, head popping into the kitchen and his eyes lit up at the sight of him. ‘Ahh there you are. We’re playing Pictionary and Kenny needs a partner. You coming?’

Mason didn’t respond, his eyes flashing down to you first but you just gave him a forced smile.

‘It’s fine, go’

‘Y/n-‘

‘Y/n, you wanna come join? I’m sure we can find you someone’ Ben interjected, cutting Mason off thankfully but you just shook your head.

‘No thanks, I’ve got some stuff to finish in here’ you told Ben before looking back up into Mason's soft eyes. An unreadable expression behind them but you knew you couldn’t look at him for too long. ‘Go on, I won’t get finished otherwise’

‘You sure?’ He asked but you just sent him a nod back. Looking back down to what you were chopping before you felt him sigh and push himself up to leave. The feel of his hand on your waist making you freeze as you felt him press a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head before walking out the door to leave you on your own. Your eyes filled up immediately but you blinked the tears away and took a deep breath in to steady yourself.

He was so confusing and truth be told, you couldn’t face watching Mason with her so you kept yourself out of the way on purpose. Making up jobs in the kitchen and setting everything out for everyone else so that when Carly came back everything was good to go and it was worth it to see the smile on her face.

You let everyone else make their pizzas first, helping Woody out a little bit as he seemed to have no idea what he was doing but you didn’t dare look in Masons direction as Kenny was half draped over him. Soon enough the kitchen was clearing as people took theirs out to the new pizza oven to be cooked and you felt like you were able to take a breath.

After everything that had happened tonight you weren’t very hungry but now everyone had left you could make yours in peace and you were almost done when you felt a presence beside you and you knew who it was immediately

‘You still going?’ Mason asked, taking a seat beside you as you popped the last of your toppings on

‘I’m almost done, I want it to be perfect’ you told him quietly ‘I take pizza very seriously’

‘Well yours looks way better than mine’ he huffed and you sent him a small smile. ‘Are we okay?’ He asked carefully, his voice small and scared almost and when you finally made eye contact with him you saw how sad he looked.

‘Why wouldn’t we be?’

‘You just seem… quiet’

‘Long day’ you shrugged, gulping back your emotions but before you could say anything else you heard people start to filter back inside. ‘Go on, yours is probably done. I’ll just cook mine and be in’

He didn’t reply, just stood up with a sigh as you were already making your way outside where now only Ben and Carly were. You told them you were fine to finish up if they wanted to go inside and you were left with just your thoughts.

You were being miserable and you knew you were and you knew you had to snap out of it. You were the one who caught feelings, clearly he hadn’t so this was a you issue and if you didn’t fix up you were risking ruining the whole friendship group.

Before any of this Mason was a friend and the friendship came first. There was no point dwelling on what had happened and the fact that nothing probably ever would again but you missed being civil with him more than anything so after a quick pep talk you told yourself you’d make an effort with him to be normal. You’d leave the past in the past and move on so you could have your friend back as that was the most important thing. Even if that meant watching him fawn over someone else.

These things don’t work out like you want them too sometimes and that’s okay. But your mood wasn’t and after the realisation hit you, you made sure you’d be cherpier when you went back inside.

You felt lighter as you made your way back in, stopping in the kitchen to cut your pizza up and as if by magic Mason appeared. Walking over to the fridge to grab a drink before standing opposite you.

‘I came to check up on your masterpiece’ he smiled sweetly but he seemed taken aback as you looked back at him with a bright smile.

‘Oh yeah? What do you think’ you asked, showing it to him proudly with a wide smile and your sudden change of demeanour had him looking at you bewildered but he soon mirrored your expression and smiled back at you widely.

‘I think, I probably should have asked you to make mine’ he laughed, eyes wide as he looked over your food and you figured this would be a good time to give him an olive branch and let him know everything was okay.

‘Here, why don’t you take this bit’ you told him, popping a slice on his plate and the rosy blush that took over his cheeks made you smile.

‘No I-I couldn’t’ he stuttered, looking at you like he was in shock but you nodded at him encouragingly.

‘Please? I’ll never finish it all. I want you to have some’ you told him, placing your hand on his arm and his eyes flashed to where you were touching him before looking at you with a soft smile.

‘Thank you’ he whispered but before anything else could be said, Carly was calling you over to sit with her.

‘I’m gonna go eat, but I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?’

‘Okay’ he breathed, a huge smile on his face as he looked at you and you hated the fact that all you wanted to do was kiss him but with one last smile you let him go and took your seat next to Carly.

You sat and listened to everyone talking, chipping in when you needed to but your eyes were on Mason and Kenny, hating the way she looked at him and even worse the way he was looking at her. You told yourself outside you’d have to get used to it but it was going to take more than one evening to do that.

You ignored it though until you couldn’t, watching them discuss the pizza on his plate before she picked up the slice you’d given him from yours and take a massive bite from it.

You were filled with rage instantly. That slice was meant for him, a peace offering of sorts to let him know that the pair of you would be okay and he’d just handed it over to his new play thing like it was nothing.

Your appetite was gone in an instant so you let Carly know you were quickly running to the loo so you could sort yourself out but memories of you and Mason getting physical on this very counter made your blood boil and you just wanted to go home.

Everywhere you looked you could see him and you knew you couldn’t stick around much longer.

Everyone had disbursed by the time you got back downstairs but you found Carly as quickly as you could so you could say goodbye before slipping out.

‘I don’t wanna cause a fuss, I’ll just go it’s fine’ you told her with a weak smile. ‘It’s been a long day and I just don’t feel great’

‘Oh no’ she pouted, pulling you into her body for a hug and you had to bite your lip so you didn’t cry. ‘You sure you’re alright?’

‘I’m fine. I’m just gonna head out before anyone sees. Just tell them I don’t feel good if anyone asks’ you told her and even though she was pouting at you tried not to let it bother you too much as you hated upsetting her and if you carried on seeing how sad she was you’d end up staying.

You’d almost made it out the door when a voice you didn’t recognise called your name and you turned to see Kenny smiling at you sweetly.

‘Hey, I don't believe we’ve met. I’m Kenny, you’re y/n right?’

‘Uh yeah, that’s me’

‘I thought so, I recognised you from everyone’s holiday pictures. I was so jealous but I’m so happy my spot wasn’t wasted’ she smiled but her words confused you.

‘What do you mean, your spot?’

‘Oh Mason didn't tell you?’ She asked, brows raising in shock like she couldn’t believe you didn’t know but you could tell she was about to take some satisfaction in filling you in. ‘I was meant to go with him originally but like a week before I had a really important job come up and I had to back out. I told Mason to find someone else to take and he mentioned you guys were friends. You know what Masons like he probably didn’t want to say anything and upset you’

Her words sliced through you, gaping holes left in your chest at the idea of being just an afterthought for Mason. Second choice, just like normal. You felt like you couldn’t take in a proper breath and you were hoping she didn’t notice how her words were tearing to pieces but even if she did you weren’t sure she would have cared. ‘Don’t worry though, he’s promised me a solo trip just the two of us soon to make up for it’ she laughed before her eyes were back on you. ‘You're leaving so soon?’

‘Yeah I’m not feeling great, I'm just gonna head home’ you said quietly, eyes on the floor so she couldn’t see the pain in them and you stuffed yourself into your coat so you could leave.

‘Oh okay, well hopefully see you around’ she told you sweetly but all you could do was nod before rushing out of the door.

You could barely focus as you drove home. Feeling even more used now that you knew you were his back up. Probably only sleeping with you as you were all he had to choose from and you felt even dirtier than before.

You’d really let yourself believe you meant a little something to him but you couldn’t stand thinking about him anymore. Even if you were only friends you thought he would have treated you with a bit more respect than this.

You were even more emotional when you finally got to the safety of your flat. Tears filling your eyes but you resisted the urge to let them escape. Jumping in the shower before changing into a comfy pair of pjs so you could get ready for bed and cry your little heart out but fate wasn’t on your side tonight.

You thought about ignoring the knock on your door, but it was late so you knew it wasn’t random. Opening up the door with a huff to reveal the last person you wanted to see and the sight of him raised your blood pressure.

‘Mason, what do you want?’ You asked with furrowed brows and you knew you looked pissed from the way he was looking back at you.

‘Charming’ he laughed, but you didn’t react. Watching his face drop a little bit but he carried on. ‘Carly said you weren’t feeling too well I was just coming to check on you’

‘There’s no need, I’m fine’ you told him bluntly but just like usual Mason was giving up without a fight.

‘Can I come in then?’

‘Where’s Kenny’ you questioned, eyebrow raised but he looked even more confused at this.

‘How should I know?’ He scoffed, looking at you like you’d lost your mind and you realised you couldn't send him away no matter how much you wanted to. Hoping he’d see you weren’t in the mood for visitors and leave but this was Mason you were talking about and as soon as you moved aside to let him in you wished you hadn’t of.

He walked through your flat, making his way to the living room where he perched himself on the arm of the sofa so he could face you as you stood far away from him in the doorway. Hands behind your back as he played with his in his lap, both in silence for a beat until he looked up at you with his big eyes and you nearly lost it.

‘Are you gonna tell me what’s really wrong? Cause you look fine’ he told you and you felt your anger rise up in your throat.

‘Oh and you’re the authority on who’s sick then are you? Sorry I didn't realise I had to meet your standards to pass. What do you want me to do, cough up a lung? Would you believe me then?’

‘What the hells gotten into you?’ He laughed, a look of disbelief on his face and you knew you had to tone it down a little bit.

‘Nothing’ you huffed, eyes on the floor so he couldn't read you but you saw him shuffle about uncomfortably.

‘Well it has. Look I know things have been a little weird since Portugal but I’m only here for a few days and I…’

‘And what?’

‘I miss you’ he whispered. You heart breaking at the sound of his voice but you knew you had to stay firm. ‘Things aren’t the same as they used to be. What happened to the contract? Friendship comes first and all that shit? You can barely look at me now’ he told you, unable to hide the hurt in his voice but you were too upset to let it affect you. ‘Last time we spoke at Ben's things seemed better and now you’ve gone all cold again’

‘I said already, I don’t feel well’

‘You don’t expect me to believe that’

‘Believe what you want’ you mumbled and the sigh that he let out almost broke your heart.

‘I hate all this, being off with each other and stuff. Why can’t we just go back to how it was?’

‘Cause I fucking like you, you idiot!’ you suddenly exploded, silencing him immediately as he stared at you in shock and you knew you needed to take it down a peg. ‘I like you’ you told him, your voice sounding vulnerable and small as your eyes fell to the floor. ‘I know about the contract and I remember the rules but I like you. And I’ve been trying to make it stop but I can’t and then you shared my pizza that I gave you with some random girl I’ve never seen before right in front of me’

‘It’s just pizza, Muffin’ he said quietly, trying to hide the smile on his face but you saw it clear as day. He hadn’t called you Muffin since the second to last day in Portugal, the sound making your knees weak and your eyes water but you were determined not to show him what he was doing to you.

‘It’s the principle’ you huffed shakily, wanting him to understand how insignificant he’d made you feel and by the way his eyes dropped you think he got the picture. ‘It hurt, Mase’

‘I didn’t mean to hurt you’ he told you softly, standing up to be closer to you and when he reached for your hand you let him take it. ‘That’s the last thing I’d want to do. Truth is I never actually gave it to her, she picked it up off my plate before I could say anything. I was actually pretty pissed cause I wanted to eat it, like I’d saved it till last on purpose and I knew I couldn’t ask you for another bit’ he laughed, trying to make you smile and you almost conceded. ‘There’s something else though, isn’t there’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s not just the pizza you’re upset about. Something else is wrong’ he stated and you froze.

What did he expect you to say?

You’d admitted you liked him and even though he hadn’t said it back he also hadn't shot you down. If anything he looked lighter from your confession and you figured you had nothing left to lose so you decided to be honest.

‘That girl.. the one who stole my pizza’

‘Kenny?’

‘Who is she?’ You whispered. Your voice sounding scared like you might not like the answer but from the way Mason was looking at you you felt yourself settling down.

‘A friend of Bens from back home. I didn’t meet her that long ago but he introduced us cause she lives in Manchester now’ he explained and you hated the fact she lived so close to him.

‘Oh, so you haven’t known her long?’

‘Not really. Why?’ He asked and even though it was petty you just shrugged your shoulders. ‘Hey come on. What happened?’ He asked, pulling you back towards the arm of the sofa and in between his legs so he could hold your waist but you kept your arms crossed in front of you. ‘Please tell me, Muffin. I can’t help if I don’t know’

‘When you told me you’d paid for my part of the holiday already and were waiting to convince me, were you telling the truth?’ You asked quietly, not wanting to look him in the eyes so you focused on his shoulder instead but you could see from the corner of your eye the confused look on his face.

‘Of course I was. Why? Did someone say something different?’

‘She told me that space was booked for her. That you’d invited her first but a job came up and she couldn’t go so that’s why you never asked me sooner cause it never really was for me. I was just back up but you didn’t want to upset me’

‘First of all, that’s bullshit. It was always meant for you and I’ve got the texts to prove it’ he told you, reaching for his phone to prove his point but you felt a little silly now.

‘Mase it’s fine-‘

‘No, I wanna show you. I don’t want you to think that when it wasn’t that at all’ he told you, his voice hard but you knew his frustrations weren’t aimed at you.

‘See, it was always for you’ he told you gently, your heart sinking at the fact you’d believed her so easily.

‘Why did she say that to me then?’

‘Cause she’s probably annoyed you ended up going’ he laughed. ‘Look, I’ll admit I took her out on a date a few weeks before I came down that weekend we… you know for the first time’ he explained. ‘Nothing special, just dinner and some drinks and she asked about any plans over the winter break and this came up. I think Ben must have mentioned it already and she told me she was up for it if your space was available and I said I’d let her know. Obviously it wasn’t and she got a bit jealous I guess and wanted to make you feel a bit shit about it’

‘Well mission accomplished’ you laughed, uncrossing your arms so you didn’t look so defensive but you were still a little uncomfortable so you just played with your fingers and he let out a gentle sigh.

‘Muffin, who are we trying to kid?’ He asked you softly, your eyes on his face immediately and the soft look on his face made your knees weak.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, there’s clearly something here. Why are we trying so hard to fight it?’ He asked quietly and you felt your breath catch in the back of your throat. ‘Did you mean what you said earlier?’

‘Depends, what did I say?’ You laughed and he squeezed your hips softly.

‘When you said you liked me, did you mean it?’ He questioned, wanting an answer but you weren’t ready to speak so you just nodded, hoping that would be enough for him. ‘Well, I like you too. A lot in fact, more than I ever intended to. And I know it’s against the rules but fuck all that’ he laughed. ‘Why are we fighting so hard against what we want?’

‘I’m not sure’ you whispered, eyes finally meeting his and you smiled at him but his last words to you in Portugal were still ringing in your ears. ‘I guess after what you said on our last night away and how you were for that whole day, I just didn’t think you’d ever want anything more from me. You made me feel like crap, like you got what you wanted and you were done’

You watched the hurt flash over his features, reliving his words to you from that night and even though he hadn’t said a lot, he knew his words along with his actions had really upset you.

‘I didn’t say any of that stuff cause I believed it’ he sighed. ‘You don’t know how many times that night I came back to your door ready to knock it down and tell you how I was feeling. Why do you think I left that night like I was going out of my mind and I was crying like a baby’ he laughed but your heart broke at the sound of his confession. ‘I was so caught up in you and then reality hit that I probably can’t give you what you want. What you deserve’

‘What do you mean?’ You asked quietly, hands finally resting on his chest as you reached out to touch him and he smiled and pulled you in closer at the gesture.

‘You’re this big scary boss lady who’s got so much going for her, you know? Like you’ve got your whole little empire and that’s your world. I thought being with me would be too much for you or something. I’m so far away now and I can’t give you the time you deserve. Maybe I’m not making that much sense’

‘You’re really not’ you laughed, thinking he looked adorable when he rambled but you knew he wanted to carry on so you let him.

‘I’m so proud of you and everything you are and everything that you have. I guess I don’t want to get in the way of that’

‘What if I want you in the way?’ You asked and he looked up at you hopefully. Flashing you your favourite smile that you hadn’t seen in what felt like a lifetime and you had to really hold back to not kiss him. ‘Yes I’m busy and yes I have a lot of stuff to do but do you remember what you said to me on the stairs at Ben's house before we went away?’

‘I said a lot of stuff’ he winked, clearly reliving all the ways he’d tried to woo you on the stairs and you blushed as you remembered his words.

‘You did’ you laughed, nodding your head as you moved your hands to his shoulders. ‘But you said everyone’s got time, you just have to make it. And you Mason, I’d be more than willing to make time for you’

‘Yeah?’ he questioned with a laugh and you nodded reassuring him before his face fell. ‘I’m really sorry. I feel like I’ve acted like such a brat’

‘Did I do something?’ You whispered, wanting to get to the bottom of what really happened. ‘I feel like that last day it went all wrong. You just left without a word and didn’t even try to make it right’

‘I know, I was trying to run away I think. I knew I pushed it too far that night before and we broke all the rules but I was past the point of caring. All I wanted was to wake up next to you that morning, kiss you and tell you how I really felt. But you’d gone and then I saw you in the pool with Chilly and it drove me mad’

‘He was teaching me how to swim, Mase’

‘I know’ he laughed, looking like he realised how silly he sounded but you knew there was more to it. ‘But you told me you wouldn’t ever get in the pool for me and after we’d had the day before and it was so perfect, I could feel myself caring more than I knew I should. It fucking hurt that you didn’t ask me and I know it sounds stupid cause it is so I thought it was best to shut it down. I should of handled it differently though I’m sorry’

‘I’m sorry Mase, I didn’t even think. I never meant to make you feel like that’

‘I know you didn’t’ he smiled, pulling you in closer so that your bodies were flush against each other now. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry for I was just jealous’

‘Is that why you spoke to those girls that night?’

‘That looked worse than it was, but I get it didn’t look great so I’m sorry’ he whispered, looking at you with eyes full of guilt but you just nodded. ‘The guys were going in at me at the bar about you and asking why I hadn’t spoken to any other girls that week and then she practically crashed into me. She was as drunk as anything but she told me she was a fan so I spoke to her hoping the boys would leave me alone. She was falling all over me though and I could barely hear her so I tried to steady her and let her know I’d walk her back to her table but you with your incredible timing popped up at the worst possible moment’ he laughed. ‘But I walked her back and then her friends were asking me loads of questions about United so I just sat with them for a bit to get the others off my back but as soon as Dec told me you were out of it I left them’

‘I know’ you whispered, silently relieved that things weren’t as they seemed. ‘Thank you for looking after me’

‘You don’t have to thank me, all I care about is you being okay and I get it didn’t seem like that sometimes’ he sighed. ‘That whole day I knew it was gonna be my last with you and I was miserable. Didn’t wanna do anything or speak to anyone, like once I was over my strop that morning I just wanted to hold you cause I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to the next day. I was terrified of talking to you about anything cause I knew I’d get upset so I just didn’t and then when we went out I thought if I wasn’t around you then I could push it all down and move on and maybe by the time we saw each other again it’d be alright but as soon as I saw you earlier I knew I’d messed up. I don't think I can be just friends with you now Muffin, it’s not gonna work. Not when I know I want so much more from you’

‘Really?’ You breathed, your bottom lip wobbling as his worlds sunk in.

‘Promise. That holiday just proved to me I’d do absolutely anything for you and these last few weeks without you have been hell’ he confessed. ‘I’ve missed you. So much’ he whispered, kissing your cheek and you blushed at his words. ‘Missed holding you and kissing you and pretending that you’re mine. I’m fed up with pretending though like I’ve had enough of it’

‘Me too’ you laughed, thinking his stroppy expression was adorable but your smile made him smile too.

‘So we’re gonna do this then?’ He asked hopefully and you knew you couldn’t deny him.

‘I think so’ you nodded, holding him close as you squeezed each other tightly. ‘I have no idea how or anything but we can sort it out. I just know I want you’

‘We’ll find a way, I’d do anything to make this work’ he assured you and you couldn’t take it anymore. Leaning forward to finally kiss him like you’d wanted to for the longest time and he reciprocated straight away. Lightly brushing his lips against yours as the pair of you tried to not smile but it was too difficult. Giggling onto each other's lips before you pulled away and you just hoped you mirrored the joy that was so plainly written over Mason's face.

‘How I’ve gone that long without kissing you I’ll never know’ he told you, pressing another heavy kiss to your lips. ‘How about we start a Sugar Mumma franchise in Manchester?’ He teased, eyebrows wiggling to let you know he was only half joking but you quite liked the sound of it.

‘I mean I’m always looking for opportunities to expand’ you laughed, pulling back to look into his eyes and they were the happiest you’d seen him all evening and knowing it was because of you made you blush.

‘You gonna let me be your muffin man, then?’ He joked, referencing the fact he always asked if you had found your Mr. Muffin but little did he know he’d been your muffin man all along.

You quickly escaped from his arms so you could grab your phone, wanting to show him something he’d never seen before and when you returned he sat you down in his lap with his arms crossed over your front before he kissed your neck softly.

‘I wanna show you something’ you laughed, quickly opening up your messages to reveal to him the name you had him under in your contacts and you watched his face as the realisation hit him before he looked at you softly. ‘You’ve always been my muffin man’

‘How long has it been like that?’ He laughed, squeezing you a little tighter as he kissed your cheek but you didn’t have time to answer him as a notification from Dec came through and you were left confused.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ You questioned aloud. Looking up at Mason but you could tell from his shy face that he knew what was going on. ‘Mase?’

‘Well I realised pretty quickly you’d gone but I didn’t know what to do so I waited until Woody asked and when Carly said you didn’t feel well I knew something was off’ he shrugged. ‘You were fine before we ate so I went into another room to try and call you but Dec found me before I got a chance and when I told him what I was doing he gave me a bit of a talking to’ he gulped, his face going as red as you’d ever seen it and you weren’t sure if you wanted to hear anymore. ‘Don’t be upset with him but he told me about when you spoke after I’d left. I don't think he told me everything but I got the main parts and I felt like such a knob. He told me he’d bang our heads together if I didn’t come over and make things right so I left and I guess he thinks if we’ve worked it out then it’s all down to him’

‘Well he’s been suspicious from the start I guess’ you shrugged. ‘You know he told me he’d love for you to have someone like me? That I could be just what you need’

‘I mean he’s not wrong but when did he say that?’

‘Day of the boat trip, when we got back from dinner and you had a word with him. I think he only kept teasing cause he was trying to push us together’

‘Well he should have saved himself the bother, I’ve been yours for a while’ he winked and you felt yourself cuddle into him as you blushed.

‘Really?’

‘Of course, had me hooked since that first chocolate muffin’ he confessed. ‘I like you a lot and I didn’t want you to think I’m like what everyone else sees me as. I love having you in my life and I love having you as a friend but lately I couldn’t help but see you as more’ he told you truthfully. ‘And then you showed up at my birthday looking hot as hell like you’re enough to drive anyone insane’ he teased and his words made you giggle as you tried to hide your face in your hands.

‘I never thought you’d see me as more than a friend’ you laughed, holding him tighter as he peppered kisses to your cheek. ‘And I love being your friend but I’ve always had a soft spot for you’

‘We can still be friends’ he told you softly. Kissing your cheek gently before smiling down at you. ‘Well just be extra special friends who kiss and get to see each other naked’ he teased and you rolled your eyes playfully. ‘Plus now you're my girl you get a prime face time slot’

‘Are you ever serious?’ You laughed, turning in his arms so you could pull him into a hug and you shivered at the way he tucked himself into your neck.

‘I’m serious about you’ he whispered into your skin and you couldn’t contain your smile but you knew in the back of your mind this wouldn’t be as simple as you wanted it to be. ‘What’s wrong, muffin?’

You gave him a sad smile, your heart thumping at how he was able to read you so easily before shrugging lightly. ‘Just worrying’

‘Well don’t, there’s nothing to worry about’

‘Well there is. What’s everyone gonna say? I know Carly will be upset I kept this from her’

‘Wanna know a secret?’ He whispered, his voice sounding playful and you looked up at him in confusion. ‘I think she knows’

‘How? Did you say something?’

‘Of course not, but just like my best friend figured it out I think yours has too. Probably knew before we knew ourselves. Remember when we were at the airport and you made your big entrance?’ He teased, making you hide your face in embarrassment but he was quick to pull your hands apart. ‘She came over to speak to me, mainly just to say thank you for the surprise but she asked me if something was going on between us as she knew you always keep your cards close to your chest’

‘Well now I feel even worse’

‘You don’t have to, she knows you’ll tell her when you’re ready’ he reassured you. Kissing you softly before squeezing your hip. ‘Are you working tomorrow?’

‘Gave myself the day off’ you told him, shaking your head into his neck and you felt him squeeze you tighter.

‘Well I’m staying at Woodlands Park, treated myself to a suite but it’s a bit pointless on my own. Will you come and stay with me tonight?’

‘Really?’ You asked, excitement bubbling through you as you knew it was super fancy there and you’d always wanted to go but the fact you got to spend the night with Mason after so long was even more appealing. You pulled back to look at him, laughing as he gave your bum a cheeky pinch and he nodded at you shyly.

‘Of course, I don’t wanna go back there without you’ he whispered and you knew you didn’t want to leave him either. ‘I promise I’ll get you room service in the morning’ he laughed, trying to convince you further but you were already wanting to free yourself from his grip so you could grab your things.

‘Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready’ you laughed, reaching down so you could kiss him again quickly before sorting yourself out but he held you close to him so you couldn’t move. His face serious when you looked at him

‘Thank you, Muffin. I’ve honestly been miserable without you and I’m really glad we get to start again’ he told you truthfully. Your eyes stinging as you nodded back at him softly before he kissed your forehead. ‘We’ll do it the right way this time, yeah? No more secrets or ground rules or whatever else. We’ll just be honest with each other about our feelings and we’ll go from there okay?’

‘Okay’ you whispered, loving the way Mason made it sound so easy when you knew it probably wouldn’t be but you also knew there was no one else you wanted to try this hard with and when he lent forward to capture your lips again, you let him. Content being back in his arms and thankful you’d broken all your rules for him.

y/n

liked by masonmount, carlywlms_, declanrice and others

y/n My muffin man 🥹🩷

view comments

masonmount all this time I’ve been muffin without you 😘

y/n you’re lucky you’re cute 😩

declanrice I called it (congrats)

y/n 🙄 (thanks)

carlywlms_ so happy for you 🩷

y/n love you 🩷 calling you right now

carlywlms_ you better 😉

okaylaaa oh she’s hard launching 😏

y/n were starting as we mean to go on 😌

benchilwell okay I did not see this coming but I love it

carlywlms_ well you must be the only one who didn’t Jesus Ben where have you been?

y/n yeah Ben, get with it

laurenfryer_ so it really was a couples holiday after all 🥹

y/n we just felt a bit left out

masonmount yeah it’s nothing serious, she’ll be done with me in a week

y/n cute he thinks I’m gonna give him a week

woody_ can you two just get married already? You make me sick

masonmount as joyous as ever woody

nadds__ well I can’t say I didn’t see this coming but I’m so happy for you 🥹

y/n thank you 🩷 I’m concerned as to why everyone could see it but us

masonmount love is blind, muffin. And you need you eyes tested 🤪

lukeshaw23 finally we can go on double dates now you don’t know how long I’ve waited

y/n ooooo yes please 🤭

masonmount not luke asking you out on a date before I did

kaihavertz29 okay I’m so out of the loop, can’t believe my boyfriend has a girlfriend

y/n how did I not know my boyfriend has a boyfriend

masonmount miss you bro ☹️

Tagged: @footiehoemcfc @prideofpd @yoursselo @chelseachilly @willow-writer-ivy @katharinanadiaa @mmountseb @carlottawllms @saltyheartnightmare @masonmtxo @harvestmount @chillymountsjess @treblebluesblog @pulisicsgirl @bluesswift @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps

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joshsjipple · 1 month

Text

Better Than Words

DANNY WAGNGER X FEMALE READER

A/N: Long overdue for some Danny love. I’ve been waiting for the right idea to come to mind to write about him, so I hope this does some justice.

Word Count: 3.3k

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. graphic sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), praise kink, degradation, humiliation kink, slapping kink, semi public sex, oral sex (m rec), slight fingering, breeding kink, slight choking kink, cum play, dom (m) sub (f), p in v, rough sex. I think that’s it!

»--•--«

You can’t imagine a better way to spend your day off. Perched on the couch with your favorite book, you sprawl your legs out across the couch. You’ve been looking forward to this moment since Monday, daydreaming about this incredible book your boyfriend–Danny–had bought you for your birthday a few weeks prior. You nurse on a glass of red wine here and there but never let it sway your attention too far from the book, just sipping enough to savor the taste.

You read through the whole afternoon, only stopping to go to the bathroom and make lunch. You have your ankles crossed and your nose in the book when you hear the keys jiggle in the lock. Within seconds, the door opens, briefly stealing your attention.

Danny gives you a warm smile that is quickly replaced by an apologetic frown once he notices he’s interrupted your reading. You grin at him as he maneuvers through the kitchen, emptying his pockets onto the kitchen island like he does every day.

“Hey, you. You’re home early,” you say, returning to your book again.

“Yeah, I texted you an hour ago. Josh and Jake got into a small fight so we called it a day early,” he explains. You hear him rustling through the fridge, pulling out a canned beverage. He cracks it open and you listen to him gulp a few swallows down.

“Daniel,” you whine, eyes fixated on him once more.

He sets his can down and raises his hands in defense. “Sorry, baby. I’ll get out of your hair,”

You watch him strut past you and down the hallway. He disappears into the bedroom first, exiting it with a towel. Then, as promised, he vanishes into the bathroom and leaves you alone. You take another sip of your wine and soak in the sound of water running faintly in the background. It adds to your vision and you cuddle back into your seat.

Thirty minutes later, the water shuts off. Knowing he never covers up after he showers, you tilt your head to the left to get a glimpse of him. He sways from side to side, radiating confidence and strawberry scented shampoo. He sees you out of his peripheral vision and yells, “How’s your book, babe?”

“Great,” you chuckle, watching him leave your line of vision as you bring your wine back to your lips.

For some reason, your mind won’t focus on the book anymore. You’re almost halfway through, and currently in a very chaotic battle between the main character and the enemy, but all you can think about is Danny’s bare ass that’s pacing around your room right now.

After dressing himself, he quietly roams the kitchen once more. He tugs a few grapes into his mouth, barely making any noise. You want to watch him. You wonder what his hair looks like, what shirt he’s wearing, if he’s wearing sweatpants or shorts. Biting your lip, you take a peak.

You stare for a second too long and his eyes flick to yours, victory glossing over them. “See something you like?” he winks.

“Yeah, actually. Toss me a few grapes, will you?” you smirk. He only rolls his eyes and makes his way over to you. You grab a few pieces of fruit from his large bowl, eyes dancing over his tan face. “Just sit down, yeah? We can share.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you nod, tucking your legs to your chest and patting the seat beside you. “Just keep quiet,”

“Whatever you want,” he falls back against the cushion.

Danny scoots closer to you, grabbing both of your legs and tossing them over his lap. He pats them a few times before setting the bowl on them. He grabs the remote and when you give him a nod, he turns to a channel.

The two of you sit in silence, although he seems to actually be into the movie vs. you having no interest in your book anymore. You scan over his side profile, admiring his long dark eyelashes and his beautifully sculpted nose. His lips are wet from the juice of the grapes and you imagine what they would taste like right now if you sucked one into your mouth.

You’re suddenly aware of his hands on your thighs, stroking small circles into your flesh. You’re wearing your comfiest set of PJs, which also happen to be the skimpiest. The short’s material barely covers your ass when you walk and right now, it’s riding up your thighs, giving Danny more area to work with. His fingers dig deeper into your skin and you can’t help but let out a small whine in pleasure. Danny’s eyes stay focused on the TV. Defeated, you set your book down on the table beside you.

“What are you doing? I thought you wanted to read?” he asks, his tone mocking.

“I’m taking a break,” you roll your eyes, grabbing another grape.

“Fine, but don’t brother me,” he quips, throwing your words from earlier back at your face.

You groan and scoot closer to him, chaining your arms together. “I’m sorry, love.” you kiss his bicep, letting your lips linger longer than necessary. “Let me make it up to you?”

His breathing hitches as you tug at the skin of his neck, yet his eyes never leave the screen. You lick the spot under his ear and his eyes flutter shut briefly. You remove the bowl from his lap, replacing it with your soaked core. Straddling him now, you throw your arms around his neck. He sighs and gives you a look that makes you throb.

“Whatcha doin up there?” he asks, planting his hands on your waist.

“You, hopefully.” you smirk, pulling him into a kiss.

His hands drift from your waist to your ass as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like summer and grapes, making you drag your tongue farther into his mouth. He moans into you, grabbing your ass cheeks with both of his large hands. He pushes the material up, playing with the flesh like putty in his hands. Your hands tangle in his dark locks, tugging and gripping on it just how he likes. His hands drag your body into his waist and you lose all your dignity as you feel him grow against your center.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whimpers, grinding you back into his erection.

You smile as you trail kisses along his neck, nipping at the flesh, sucking the skin into your mouth. He pulls the fabric of your shorts farther up, giving him more area to work with. Shivers shoot down your spine as his finger drags over your clothed entrance.

“Oh, god…” You whine pathetically as if you haven’t gotten laid for months when in reality, it was yesterday.

“You’re so wet, honey. What were you reading over there?” he sneers, kissing your neck.

“I wasn’t reading,” you cry, jaw falling slack.

His hand crashes against your ass, making you jump and grind farther into him. The sting makes you moan, another wave of vibrations coursing through your body.

“So we’re lying now, hm? You were so mean to me earlier because you wanted to read and when I let you, you stopped. Why is that?” He continues sucking on your skin. With his hot mouth on your skin, you’re unable to form a thought quick enough to satisfy him. With another crack of his hand, you yelp and throw your head into the corner of his neck. “Not gonna talk now?”

“Again,” you whine. You should feel pathetic for asking him to slap you again, but you’re so turned on right now you don’t care.

Crack!

“Yeah? You like that?” he whispers into your ear, making goosebumps line your skin. His hands return to your slit, gathering your wetness on his fingers. He pulls them out and uses his other hand to make you sit up. Bringing his hand between both of your faces, your eyes gaze at the soaked digits. Your slick shimmers in the summer light, making you bite your lip. “You see how wet you are, honey?”

You nod, opening your mouth and he slips the two fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, eyes glued to his. He groans as you swirl your tongue across the tips of them, licking up every drop of your own arousal while you drip onto his lap.

“Wanna suck something else?” he asks, and when you nod, he smirks. “Fuck, yeah. Right here. On your knees.”

You obey him, sliding off his lap and sinking to your knees. You welcome the shiver that the hardwood floor below brings. Danny stands and shuffles to the large window covered by white blinds the two of you had picked out when you first moved in. He pulls the string, allowing them to fall open. The sun rays shoot into the living room, blinding you for a second.

“Danny–” you start but he quickly interrupts you.

“Nope. You wanted to be a brat so now you can let everyone see you get treated like one. And you’re gonna take it all, right? No complaints?”

You nod your head, hands tugging at his sweatpants. You tug them down, his hard cock surprising you. “No underwear?” you ask. “It’s almost like this was your plan all along,”

He smirks before grabbing a fistful of hair. “Shut up and suck it.” he demands, voice dripping with sex.

Removing his hands, he lets you take the lead. You lean in and kiss the tip before dragging your tongue around the slit to gather his arousal. Then, you wrap your lips around him, moaning loudly. The vibrations make him twitch and screw his eyes shut. Placing either hands on his thighs, you take him down your throat. You focus on your breathing as he reaches the hilt, a loud whimper rewarding you for your work.

“Oh, god. That’s my good girl,” he praises, massaging your scalp.

Your throat burns as you start to bob on him, swallowing every inch you’re physically able to. Danny has never been a head pusher, which you admire greatly because it would probably destroy your throat entirely. He lets you set your own pace, allowing you to take as much time as needed. He has no worries on finishing, the two of you becoming so familiar with each other’s bodies that it’s never an issue.

You gag around his length, tears welling at the corner of your eyes. You watch Danny toss his head back and his mouth make an ‘o’ shape. You swirl your tongue over him, tracing his veins as he holds your hair into a ponytail.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth, honey. I wonder if the neighbors think so too,” he pants, making you squeeze your thighs together. “Yeah? You like that idea, don’t you? Do you like the thought of people seeing you gagging on my dick?”

You can’t help the wail that leaves your chest. You repeatedly shove him down your throat, making him twitch and wither in your mouth. He hisses and you watch his jaw clench, tugging you away from his hard cock. His hands grip under your arms and he lifts you to your feet.

“Can’t wait any longer. Gonna fuck this pretty pussy,” he grabs the back of your neck and turns you towards the window. “Gonna bend over and stick your head out? Wave to all the neighbors as you soak my cock?” You moan in reply. “Yeah, right. You’re mine. They don’t get a show.”

He removes his hand from your neck and places it on your lower abdomen instead. He guides you backwards until your back is flat against the wall. He rids your shorts and panties quickly, tossing them behind his head with no care for where they end up. His fingertips immediately drag through your folds, causing you to latch onto his upper arms.

“So wet and pretty,” he coos in your ear, slipping his middle finger inside of you.

“Danny. Please fuck me,”

His finger pumps into you steadily for a few more seconds before he pulls away. “Fine. Put your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. Remember you asked for it,”

You yelp as he rips his own shirt off, his hands then moving to grip the back of your thighs. They dig into your skin, hard enough to leave a mark. You cry as he lifts you off the ground. As told, you wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. You’re already clawing at his warm skin, making him shiver as he slides the tip of himself through your folds. With one hand under your ass to keep you in place, he thrusts into you.

You’re shoved back into the wall with a thud, your head smacking the surface. You wince, but Danny keeps going. He barely gives you any time to adjust which is just how you like it. Something about the way you can feel him stretching you just drives you absolutely insane.

“You’re. So. Tight. Princess.” he says, each word escaping with the rhythm of his thrusts.

Your nails dig into the skin of his back, having no regard for the scratches you’re leaving. He whines at the feeling. Moving a hand to your breast, he squeezes and tugs on your hardened nipple. He lowers his head just enough to pull the flesh into his mouth, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. His tongue swirls and sucks on it, biting with his teeth until you squeeze around his shaft that’s buried deep inside you.

You’re close, and the desire to finish causes you to remove a hand from Danny’s back to rub circles into your clit. You work at a fast pace into the swollen bead until a hand catches it, bringing the motion to a halt. You’re wailing, hips bucking in to meet Danny’s thrusts.

“Move your hand,” he growls, lacing your fingers together and pressing it above your head.

“Daniel,” you warn.

“Your pussy is heaven, darling. I’ve never seen anything as pretty,” he cries, sucking on your neck. “She’s squeezing me so tight. Are you gonna come? Gonna make a mess on my cock and show me how much you love me?”

His words combined with his violent thrusts send you over the edge. Your back arches away from the wall, legs loosening around Danny’s waist as your mind goes blank. Not wanting you to fall, Danny lets your hand go and places both hands on your thighs to support you. Even after you’ve come down from your high, his pace doesn’t slow.

“Oh my god…” you say.

“I know. Just take it, yeah? Be my good slut and fucking take it. Take my cock that’s all soaked from your cunt. Give me another one,”

Hair clings to your forehead, glued in place from the sweat beads drizzling down your face. Your breasts bounce with every assault of Danny’s hips. The sensitive skin rubs against his toned chest, adding to your overstimulation. Your clit feels as if it might explode as he places his thumb on the bundle of nerves. You’re scrambling away from the feeling but his grip only tightens.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You wanted to play dirty, so we’re playing dirty. Now shut up and let me cum,”

You smirk at his words, pulling away from the crook of his neck you were hiding in. “You couldn’t cum if I didn’t make noise,”

“Is that a bet?”

Shit. “Yep,”

“Alright,” he shrugs, and moves away from the wall, you in his arms. Tossing you to the couch, he buries your face in the corner. “Don’t make a sound.”

You struggle to breath when he pushes himself back into you, hands gripping your waist as you meet his thrusts. A growl of pleasure rips through Danny’s chest, the sound making you bite back a moan of your own. He removes a hand from your waist and you wonder what he’s doing. You find out seconds later when a sharp painful sting falls across your ass. You bite into the cushion, trying not to make a sound. He does it again before squeezing the red area with his hands.

“You like that,” he moans, hands digging into the skin of your ass. “My good good girl likes it rough, huh? I’m fucking soaked, god. You’re so hot. ‘M gonna cum. Right in this pretty pussy. Gonna give it to you, yeah? Fill you up with my cum like you’re nothing but a pretty fuck-toy.”

Tears stream down your face as you try not to speak. When his hand snakes around your waist and begins rubbing your clit again, you can’t hold back. You squeal at the feeling of him attacking your overly-sensitive clit. He laughs from above you in victory, biting into the skin on your shoulder. His hips buck into you, your body doing it’s best to take all of it.

“Cum for me,” he begs. “Please, I need it so bad. One more. Go on, soak it.”

As if your body is wired to his mind, you climax again. Danny’s praising you again but it all sounds like mumbles to you from your position. Seconds after you finish, he does too. You feel him release himself into you, his warm ropes of cum decorating your insides like frosting on a cake. The warmness spreads through your body as you come down again. Danny uses you until he’s finished, deep and rough moans of pleasure ripping through his chest. Eventually, his movements falter to a stop.

He slips out of you, a string of cum connecting the two of you. He whines at the view before tearing it down with his fingers. You lay still until his hands flip you onto your back. You spread your legs as you feel him begin to drip out of you. He looks like a Greek god perched above you, the light accentuating his features. The muscles on his arms are outlined, along with his stomach muscles. His eyes are glued to your cunt that is overflowing with his cum.

He notices you watching him and bites his lip. “Look at this,” he leans over you and pulls your neck so you’re craned to look at yourself. “Fucking perfect,”

“Danny,” you heave.

“Yeah? You like how my cum looks running down your legs, sweet thing?” he asks, thumb tracing across your cheek.

“Fuck, I love it.” you admit.

“I’m gonna get you pregnant one of these days,” he runs his fingers through his hair before falling onto your chest.

“Danny, I’m on birth control,” you can’t help but giggle.

“We need to get you off it asap,” he says.

“What? You want a baby?” you’re stunned.

“I want everything with you. Besides, you’d be so hot pregnant. And your boobs would be massive,” he kisses your stomach.

You swat at his head with a chuckle. “You’re such a boy,”

“I’m just saying! That does happen, you know. They get all round and full with milk,” he stares up at you, tongue dragging over your nipple.

“Danny,” you whine. “Save this energy for later. I’m exhausted,”

“Yeah me too,” he agrees. “How about a bath? You can tell me about that book you’re reading,”

“Sounds good. But I don’t remember anything after you got out of the shower,” you admit.

“What can I say?” he shrugs. “Who would want to read when I’m here?”

You smile. “Now that I can agree with.”

»--•--«

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #josh kiszka smut #sam kiszka #greta van fleet smut #josh gvf #josh kiszka fic #sam kiszka gvf #danny gvf #danny wagner #danny wagner smut

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 days

Text

Feelings (5)

Hi guys!

New chapter for this Serie, I hope you'll like it too :) Don't be shy about telling what you think about it, or asking if you want to have something special in it. I had a request from here for this one, so I hope it will be ok like this :)

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Suggestive, sex talk (?)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Saying goodbye to Alessia was hard, but you didn’t have the choice. You knew since the start of all this that it would happen, but that doesn’t mean it was making things easier.

You find your apartment like you left it, your friend Sofia came several times to ventilate it and take care of your olive tree. That you renamed Olivio, with all the imagination that is yours. The only thing that changed, is that there is no Alma laying on your couch like she was used to do when you were away. You always hided your keys under your doormat for her to come, but you asked Sofia to take it away for now. You still have things belonging to Alma in here though.

You send them to her by the post before going to your first training session. Your Spanish teammates look at you with friendly compassion when your arrived and you realize that you almost forgot that you lost a finale several days before. Alessia made you forget.

You find your habits really quickly, even if Laia Codina or Jenni are not part of the team anymore. But Ona being one to replace them, you’re pretty sure that Lucy isn’t too mad. You still have to talk to her about Alessia though, you knew that she went on holidays with Ona and didn’t want to bother her. And you teased her so much about Ona that you’re sure she won’t miss to tease you back for now.

Cata Coll is one of your closest friends here and it’s with her that you appear for the first time back on Fc Barcelona Feminin’s Instagram. The training was lighter the first days, but you soon go back to the real session.

“So. You and Less?” asks Lucy one afternoon where you are at her flat after the training.

“Yes?” you answer innocently.

You were playing against each other at Fifa on Playstation, Lucy’s actually crushing you with Manchester City. You’re still trying to figure how she can be good at everything.

“How did you get together?”

“What tell you that we are together?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because you were making out in the plane when I came back to ask if I can borrow your earphones?”

Sitting on the other couch while scrolling on her phone, Ona can’t help but snort. You don’t mind her being here while you’re talking about your love life. You like her and she’s your mate’s girlfriend. You better get along and for now it’s working great. You smile too, to be fair, even if you blush lightly.

“We didn’t put a label on it, so I don’t know if I can call her my girlfriend” you answer, frowning softly.

It was the truth, even if you both said that you won’t go for someone else. You really hope that no one will catch Alessia’s eyes at Arsenal or even London. She’s starting again in a new environment; she doesn’t know everyone for now. You trust her obviously, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t lose interest in you.

“We did that at first too” Lucy answers. “Long-distance was hard, but really worth it if you’re meant to be.”

You hum, missing the complicit smile between Ona and Lucy. You sigh when Lucy scores another goal just before the end of the game. With a disgusted air, you let the controller fall on the couch.

“I’ve never been in a long-distance relationship before. It’s strange, to be honest, not being able to take the girl you like on date or something.”

“It is” Lucy smiles, patting your knee softly. “If you need advice or only talking, you can come to me. Or Mariona, she’s dealing with it for longer that I was.”

You nod. You somehow forgot that Mariona is dating Alessia’s teammate. Maybe you can take planes together sometimes, you think with irony.

“And Alma?” Lucy asks.

“Never heard from her again. I send her the things she left in my apartment and that’s all.”

********

You took the habits to call Alessia every night. She’s usually cooking her diner and put her phone against one of her kitchen walls to be able to cook while talking to you. You can really look at her for hours doing it. You only regret not being able to stick against her while she cuts some vegetables.

“What do you like to eat?” Alessia asks you that night.

You were silently observing her, lost in your contemplation.

“Oh uh… It depends” you shrug. “I’m not really difficult, I mean I think?”

Alessia laughs softly.

“I cooked for Leah two days ago, it was entertaining” the blonde says.

You smirk, knowing exactly what it could have been. You never met anyone as picky as Leah when it comes from food. You can guess her choice when you go to restaurant with her, it’s always the simplest dish.

“Why do you ask anyway?” you ask Alessia.

She looks genuinely surprise by your question, stopping to cut her carrots to look at you better.

“Don’t you come next week to London?”

“Yes?”

“Well I want to cook for you, obviously. We chose to get delivered almost at every meal we share when we stayed at home, but I really want to cook for you.”

“Ok” you smile softy. “Only if you let me take you on a proper date.”

“Is that even a deal?” Alessia smiles at you.

You feel your heart beating faster and God, how did you survive when she smiled at you that way in front of you?

Several days later, you were leaving training in hurry. You have two hours to go to the airport after your session and you came with your suitcase to go for it straight after your shower.

“Why are you in such hurry?” Jana asks from her cubby.

“She’s going to her girlfrieeeend” Cata sings from her spot.

“Girlfriend?”

Keira’s voice came from the other side of the room, and you flinch. Right, you didn’t talk to Keira about your new relationship. For your defense, you were thinking that Leah would. You grimace to Cata, grabs your suitcase and go for the exit.

“Say Alessia I say hi” Lucy shouts before getting hit by Ona on her arm.

“Alessia?”

You giggle when you hear the surprise in Keira’s voice but don’t take the time to answer, too scared to miss your plane. You jump in the taxi waiting for you and went for the airport.

It’s only when your luggage are taking care by the company that you take your phone off of your pocket. You wanted at first to write to Alessia to let her know that you were on your way, but you have some messages from Keira too.

Keira 🥠 Alessia??? Like in Alessia Russo? You better answer me right now, Kid.

You Who’s Alessia Russo?

Keira 🥠 You little shit. Bring back some Scones.

During the two hours and twenty-one minutes of the trip, you slept. You went to bed late this week, not being able to hang up with Alessia, even if you knew that you would see her today.

You are alert when you arrive in London, by dint of traveling from this airport, you know it by heart. There is an hour of time difference with Spain, so you feel like you have only left Spain for an hour and a half. The sandwich you snacked while waiting for your suitcase will allow you to wait until you arrive at Alessia’s, who promised to cook for you tonight. You know that you have at least one hour to go to Alessia’s house, London traffic jam being awful.

You were taping on your phone for an Uber when a voice next to you make you jump out of your skin.

“Hi stranger!”

You jump, turning around only to be face with the mischievous face of your gi… Alessia. She was supposed to be at London, not at the airport. You might look stupid when you look at her with wide eyes and your mouth slightly open. It made Alessia giggles, and you feel your stomach make a jump at the sound.

“Lessi? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I have a great visitor coming to mine this weekend, so I decided to come to take her home.”

“No, I mean…”

“I know what you mean” Alessia laughs before kissing your cheek. “I changed my media hours with Kyra to be here at the right time.”

“Oh.”

You blush and let Alessia takes your suitcase. You then follow her to the parking lot, slaloming between people. You want to take Alessia’s hand in yours, but you don’t want to make her uneasy. There are a lot of people here.

You are happy to be sitting on the passenger’s seat of her car, who is definitely more comfortable than your seat on the plane. You can’t stop to look at her and just because she’s just next to you right now, you softly stroke her cheek before taking her hand in yours.

“I missed you” you mumble when she looks at you.

She is driving and you should have taken the opportunity to kiss her before you left the parking, but you maybe will have plenty of time to do it at her home.

“I missed you too” Alessia smiles.

She asks about your trip; you ask her about her day and finally the journey for her house isn’t so long. Even if there are a lot of people on the road at this time of the day.

“Leah wants to meet you during your stay” Alessia said at one time during the trip. “I told her not today because you will be tired, but maybe tomorrow morning? She can come to have a brunch or something before the game?”

“It sounds nice” you smile, not mentioning that only seeing her is enough for you.

Alessia had a game tomorrow afternoon, but it let you all tonight, all day after the game and all the next day too. You will leave on Monday morning very early to be at training in the morning. And you are determined to enjoy it the most possible.

You are happy to find Alessia’s house too, looking around you, you notice that some things as changed since you came the last time. She added some decorations. Alessia showed you during one of your FaceTime, but it’s different like this. You just have the time to look at the picture she took in Australia during the World Cup, before you feel her arms around you.

“I didn’t have my hello kiss.”

You smile, putting your hand on her arms.

“That’s a shame. It needs to be fixed.”

“It does.”

You turn around in her arms, passing both of yours around her neck. You take the time to look at her properly, her eyes, her freckles, and her smile, before leaning in to kiss her. You can’t explain how much you missed that feeling. Alessia sighs against you and you get even closer to her, melting in her embrace.

“That’s better” Alessia smiles after the kiss.

She then kisses your nose, your forehead, both of your cheeks and finish on your lips again.

“Are you tired? Do you want to take a nap while I’m cooking?”

“Like I’m going to sleep instead of being with you.” you snort.

Alessia rolls her eyes but takes you by your hand anyway. She made you sit on a stool at the central island of her kitchen with a mug of tea. You listen to her, Alessia making almost all the conversation, but it’s always like this between you. You love to hear her talking, trying to remember every little thing she says to you.

Your eyes are going sometimes on her bum, you have to admit. But if she notices, she doesn’t say anything. You proposed to help her two times, but she refused, saying that you can help tomorrow. You will.

Her lasagna is amazing.

“It’s my Nona’s recipe” Alessia smiles when you compliment her.

You made the dishes for her, ignoring her protests, and end up cuddle with her on her couch in front of some film she chooses. But you don’t even try to look at it, you are way more interested about your girlfriend than Blake Lively fighting for her life. You try hard not to bother her too much, but you can’t stop yourself from kissing her cheek, her hair or playing with her fingers.

But Alessia doesn’t seem to mind, actually she has a small smile on her face every time you look at her.

“I missed your smell” Alessia mumbles after another kiss.

You smile, because you said yourself the same things a lot of time during the time you were at Barcelona. And you promised yourself that you will take one of her hoodies when you will leave.

You stroke the skin of her neck with your nose before kissing it several times. But then she softly bites your ear, and you feel your body being swept by electric currents. The sensations are hard to ignore.

They are so hard to ignore that you found yourself with your girlfriend, both naked, some hours later, laying in her bed. Alessia is laying on her back while you are on her belly. One of her hands is playing with your hair and you are trying hard not to fall asleep already.

“Can I ask you something?” Alessia whispers “But you have to promise not to mock me.”

“Of course you can Sweetheart. I won’t make fun of you, promise.”

You turn your head on her to have a better look at her and even if the light of her bedside lamp isn’t strong, you can see that she had blush. You watch her bite her lip and fight the want to bite at it, too. You need to stay focused; you are curious about what is in her mind.

“So… As you know, you are my first girl experiment” she begins waiting for you to hum before talking again. “Well to know how to do things right, I made some research and…”

“You made research?” you ask with a smile.

But Alessia frowns, slapping you softly on your arm.

“Babe, you promised!”

“I’m not making fun of you” you swear, still smiling. “I find it cute.”

Alessia groans and you giggle softly, moving a little on her to be able to kiss her cheek. She’s hot under your lips, attesting of your girlfriend’s blush. She smiles though and clear her throat nervously before talking again.

“So, like I was saying, I made some research and I saw that there is a lot of things to use when two women are, you know, having sex?”

“Yes?” you only say, not wanting to interrupt her again.

“It made me wonder if maybe you like to use them? And if what we’re making is annoying for you. And then I thought that maybe I should buy some of them, but I didn’t know which one you like, or you want?”

She stops talking, a little out of breath. She talked quickly though and that might explain that. She seems nervous so you take her hand in yours to try to sooth her a little bit.

“Ok, first, what kind of things did you see?”

Alessia blushes violently and you can’t help but smile again.

“Alessia Russo, did you watch porn?” you laugh.

“No!” she shouts, sitting up in the bed. “I went to website selling toys, I didn’t watch adult’s movies.”

You roll your eyes, asking yourself how a girl you just have sex with can be so shy about something like that. But that’s the innocent part of Alessia talking maybe. And you love it as much as you love every other part of her. You sat too when she sat up and you take support on her knees to lean on her and kiss her.

“Ok first of all, what we are doing is absolutely perfect to me. It’s special because it’s you and I love every second of it, every time even more.”

You are close to admit how much she affects you, but it’s not exactly admitting that you are in love with her for years. You want to reassure her anyway; you had your first time with someone before and you don’t want Alessia to feel insecure. Or worst, not enough.

It seems to work because she is smiling again, and you can’t resist to the want to kiss her again.

“But if you want to try some things together, we can do it too. Or if you miss something –“

“No” she cuts you, shaking her head. “I don’t miss anything I swear.”

She’s blushing again but you feel like she’s telling you the truth. When she talks again, she’s mumbling, looking at her fingers.

“It’s just that I never felt that way before and I want you to feel as good as I am.”

You could literally melt right now. You take a big breath, drawing her attention on you again.

“Lessi, you have no idea how good you make me feel. Really.”

She seems skeptical though, looking at you attentively. That girl will be the death of you.

“But I’m not experimented like the other girls you slept with” she points, frowning. “How can it be as good as you say?”

“I told you. Because it’s you.”

She looks at you for several seconds before smiling shyly, and you are smiling back. You are touched that she had this process and how much your well-being count for her. You sometimes struggle to realize that after all those years you are Alessia Russo’s… things. You really had to talk about it at some point, but the talk you’re having tonight is maybe enough for now.

“Do you want to buy some things though?” Alessia asks. “You didn’t answer about you having anything, but I don’t really want to use something you already… Well, you know.”

“I understand” you smile softly. “We’ll look together, ok?”

Laying down on the bed again, you take her in your arms this time, kissing her softly. She seems to be relaxed now and you let yourself go against Alessia’s mattress. You love sleeping here. Everything smells Alessia.

“By the way, please don’t tell Leah what we’ve done tonight. We’re not supposed to do something physically tiring the night before games.” Alessia smirks several minutes after, making you laugh.

********

You need a little bit of conviction to get up from the bed and your girlfriend embrace the day after. You are still a bit tired and it’s only the idea of Leah coming to find you both in bed because you are late that makes you get up.

“You are late” Leah grumble when you arrive with Alessia.

“Sorry, sleepyhead here had trouble getting up” Alessia smirks.

“I’m on the Spanish schedule, it’s not my fault” you yawn.

Leah don’t have time to grumble one more time, because the waitress came soon after to give you the menu to chose what to eat. You study it with seriousness, your stomach feeling a little bit empty.

“The usual Less?” the waitress asks to Alessia.

You frown, looking at your girlfriend who nod and give her menu back. Leah passes her command after her and you have to fight the strange feeling you have to ask what you want too. Leah seems to have forget about your delay when the waitress left, but you still have that mix of jealousy and discomfort. Alessia never hide what she does during her day, and she told you several time that she went to brunch or eat breakfast with some of her teammates, but you never imagined that there will be a pretty brunette who seems to know your girlfriend’s order by heart.

“I’m talking to you, Sleepy” Leah says, kicking you under the table.

“Wow, way to hurt your opponent?” you grumble while Leah rolls her eyes. “What was it again?”

“Keira. She asks me to remember to bring her Scones.”

“Oh” you smirk softly, remembering what happened in the locker room yesterday. “She told you that she knows about Alessia and I?”

You explain to Alessia yesterday what happened, and she’s smiling too. She didn’t look sad or hurt that you kind of forgot to talk about it to Keira.

“She told me she discovered because your teammates can’t keep their mouths shut” Leah smirk.

“It was Lucy to be fair.”

Leah rolls her eyes one more time while Alessia laughs, but your smile is quickly faded when the waitress is back. She once again turns in Alessia’s direction with a big smile at first, before giving Leah’s plate then yours. You don’t like the way she looks at your girlfriend or even how she smiles at her.

Your eyebrows are still frown when you look at your plate and suddenly the bacon in it doesn’t seems as yummy as it should. Being already concerned by your changing mood, Alessia discreetly take your hand in hers while Leah is concentrated in her plate.

“What’s up?” Alessia whispers.

“Nothing” you say, forcing a smile.

But that doesn’t work. Alessia frowns, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Communication, remember?”

You sigh softly. She’s right, you promised each other to always talk to the other is something is wrong. But you don’t want to do it here.

“Later, ok?”

Alessia nods, but she doesn’t let go of your hand and relax only when you start to eat. The food is delicious to be honest and you understand why Alessia keep coming here. You don’t know what you will say to her about your feelings, you feel bad at the idea of depriving her from this menu.

When you’re finish, you went right to the stadium. You follow Leah in the parking lot and then follow Alessia who introduces you to the different places and people who punctuate her training sessions. You meet almost all of her teammates too, even if you know some of them already. Like Laia Codina, who you know because she was at Barcelona and that you are happy to see again or Beth Mead with who you play for England.

You already know Lia or Jen because of Leah and you are kind of relax around the team. When they need to get training, Alessia goes with you to the friend and family section, holding your hand.

“So, what happened during the breakfast?” Alessia asks.

You sigh softly. You have forgotten that you were supposed to talk to your girlfriend about this. You look at her and she’s already looking at you, concern in her soft baby blue eyes.

“It’s nothing, it’s just… that girl from the Café? The waitress?” Alessia nods, so you continue. “She was looking at you like you are the most beautiful thing in the world and she’s right because you are, but it makes me realize that she can see you every morning if she wants to and I can’t. And that made me miss you, which is probably stupid because you were sitting right next to me, but…”

You shrug, not knowing how to end your sentence. But Alessia nods once again, seeming to understand what you were meaning. Which is already relieving at your eyes. She squeezes your hand softly before answering.

“It’s not stupid at all, I understand the feeling. I miss to have you next to me in the morning and falling asleep against you at night. I miss you almost every second of the day. But we chose to give us a chance and we knew what it would be. I’m sure it’s worth it.”

You feel your heart fluttered once again and you look around you to be sure that no one is near you, before taking her tight in your arms. She holds you as tight as you are doing, and it help you to feel better.

“I have nothing to worry about, right?” you whisper with your chin on her shoulder.

“Nothing.”

She backs her head to have a look at you and she’s smiling softly. You trust her, of course you do. She’s like the sweetest and the gentlest human being. And then she kisses you, not long but softly.

When Alessia left you in the family and friend section, you go to look for your seat, but you are soon spotted by Amanda, Leah’s mom. She waves at you and makes sign for you to come to her, which you do because no one can refuse anything to Leah’s mum.

“Hi darling!” she says happily when you are at her level. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh, uh…” you mumble while she hugs you.

“Leah told me why you’re here, but don’t worry your secret is safe with me.”

She smiles at you, taping your cheek in a motherly way before making you sit next to her. You recognize next to her Leah’s nan, who you salute too. Amanda looks at your shirt, raising an eyebrow.

“Not wearing an Arsenal jersey?”

“Alexia would probably kill me if I do something like this” you laugh. “Maybe she would make an exception for Alessia’s, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why that? Everyone seems to think that Less and you are good friends.”

Amanda seems to know what happened in the social media, with the video of you going to recomfort Alessia after the finale in Australia. Everyone said how much you are a good friend, choosing to make your friend’s feelings better rather than being focused on yours.

“I’ll think about it for the next time” you promise.

“Great. In the meantime, wear this.”

Without letting you the time to look at what it exactly was, Amanda put one Arsenal scarf on your shoulders. Leah’s face is print on it, and if you don’t see at least one twitt or one TikTok editing you with your friend, it would be a miracle.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo

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