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#so i’m having a bit of a moment right now
subskz · 3 days
Text
multitasking - s.cb
content: sub changbin, dom reader, pegging, lots of teasing, slight dumbification, binnie cries a little, male squirting, praise, handjob, female reader
word count: 4.5k
“One, two, three. One, two, three. Just like that, okay?”
Changbin’s breath came out in shudders, so noisy that you wondered if he could even hear you over them. Judging by his scrunched up nose and furrowed eyebrows coming together to form an adorable look of concentration, you doubted it. He was focused on one thing and one thing only.
“Binnie,” you sang. “Are you listening to me?”
Just to make sure you had his full attention, you brought the steady roll of your hips to a halt, keeping your strap buried inside him, but denying him the friction that had wiped all coherent thoughts from his brain. His body rocked for a few seconds more even after you’d stopped, operating purely off muscle memory. Then, it turned into squirming, hips twisting helplessly in the sheets to try and regain the buildup of pleasure he’d suddenly lost. You watched him wiggle around, half-amused, half-endeared as he finally blinked his hazy eyes open to process what was going on. 
“Mm?” he mumbled; drowsy, like he’d been stirred from a dream. “S-sorry? I didn’t…”
His gaze fully refocused to find you smiling down at him. On your end, you could’ve sworn his pupils dilated just a little bit more, painting his irises black and glazing them over. They looked so innocent, you’d never guess what he was really pleading for.
“I said,” you began playfully, running your palms up his twitching thighs just to tease him. They felt especially thick under your touch with all the tension they were holding, you couldn’t resist digging your nails into his flesh, hard enough to leave crescent-shaped indents behind. The tight clench of his muscles was almost as satisfying as the sweet little gasp he let out. “Are you listening to me?”
Changbin swallowed down the saliva that had begun pooling in his mouth, sucking in a deep breath to find his voice again. “O-oh, yeah.” He shifted on the mattress to inch himself closer to you, as if your strap didn’t already have him filled to the near brim. “Yeah, listening. Sorry.”
“What number are we on, baby?”
He paused, doll-like lips curving deep into a pout. It was almost cute enough for you to let him off easy—almost.
“I…I don’t—” he chuckled nervously, eyes flickering to the side. “F-four?” You shook your head. “Five?”
You could tell he was growing restless, even when he was doing his best to behave himself. His dick twitched against his stomach, crying out for you to just forget about the count and start thrusting into him again. All the blood in his system must’ve pooled hot in his abdomen by now, you couldn’t even blame him for not being able to think straight. 
“S-sorry, I really can’t remember,” he stuttered, embarrassed. “Again?”
It was the second or third time Changbin had lost track by now, and he once again found himself cursing the second he’d ever let his pride rope him into this tortuous little game you’d proposed. He’d never been one to back down from a challenge, even if it was a challenge that you both knew full well he’d fail miserably at. That, combined with his insatiable need to impress you clouding his better judgment, had him playing right into your hands.
“I can multitask!” he’d protested. “Do you know how much work it takes to be this cute and sexy at the same time?”
“So much work,” you’d agreed solemnly, trying not to crack a smile over the defensive squeak in his voice. “Then this should be no problem for you, right?” 
From the moment you’d first bottomed out inside him, Changbin had gotten the sense that he’d already lost.
“I’m trying to help you, baby,” you pouted down at him. His eyes fluttered shut as you dragged your index finger along his plump, wet lips, mesmerized with the cute popping sound they made every time you prodded at them. “If you’re too dumb to count by yourself, just repeat after me.”
“N-no, Binnie’s smart,” he insisted, muffled by your finger. His legs squeezed around your waist like they had a mind of their own, trying to rub against each other and generate some friction. “Not dumb. I can do it, lemme do it.”
“Yeah? Let’s try and make it past three this time.” You gave his cheek an affectionate pat. A shiver ran through his body as your hands glided down to his hips, gripping his soft flesh to stabilize yourself before inching out of him bit by bit. 
Immediately, Changbin’s attempt at counting was cut off by his own whine, stretching out for every second the silicone dragged along his walls. Then, you heard it, shaky and breathless as you pushed back inside him.
“O-one.”
His stomach rose sharply under your palms as you pulled out a second time. Before you’d even snapped your hips forward again, he gasped out a “two”, all too eagerly. You giggled, waiting a few extra seconds just to test his patience 
“Two,” he repeated with a tinge of desperation. He looked lost, like he was genuinely wondering if he’d already managed to mess up the order somehow.
You felt a tinge of pity; he really was trying his hardest for you. So, you followed through, deciding to take it slow this time so he actually stood a chance in counting your thrusts. His foggy brain was grateful for it, but his body, not so much. 
“Th-three—ah. Three. Faster, please?” he barely got the words out in time before he felt that delicious stretch again, coaxing an especially high moan. “F-four.”
You could practically taste the hunger rolling off his skin in warm waves. Every needy noise that grew louder his throat, every jerk of his hips begged you for more, even if he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up with it. His teeth sank into his bottom lip when you pushed back inside of him without missing a beat—faster, just like he’d asked for, and as deep as your position would allow. You dragged your hands up and down his stomach in unison with the slide of your strap; such a simple touch, but enough to disrupt his concentration all over again. 
“Fi—” he began. His voice failed him, cracking pitifully as you grabbed his bouncing chest at the very same instant you brushed against his sweet spot, digging your fingers hard into the plush skin. “F…f-fi…fuck.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back against the pillows as his resolve fully crumbled. The sensation of your palms pressing against his nipples was already dizzying enough, but once you took the hardened buds between your fingers and pinched, he was a complete goner. He made no effort to keep counting even when you didn’t stop rocking your hips, instead letting his mouth hang open uselessly, spilling out another long, shameless moan that made goosebumps rise on your skin. Just a few strokes in, and he was already so far gone.
You let him get away with it for a bit longer, taking the time to admire his dark, messy curls sprawled out against the white pillowcase, even fluffier than usual from all his tossing and turning. Everything about him was so soft. His pecs spilled out between your fingers as you pawed at them, his full cheeks were flushed red and his lips were swollen into a cute, puffy ring after how much he’d nibbled on them. It took all your willpower to not give in to the irresistible sight and keep pounding into him until his head really was too empty to think anymore. 
“So pretty, Binnie. Wanna keep you like this forever,” you murmured. You could feel his heartbeat pick up over the praise, pulsing faster under your palms. Then, all at once, you forced your hips to stop and snapped him out of his daze yet again. “But a pretty boy like you still needs to listen.”
“M-mmph,” he mewled. His body chased after your touch, protesting the loss before he even fully realized what was going on. “N-no. Sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t stop, please?”
“I only stop when you stop.” Your hum was deceptively sympathetic as you watched him fist the sheets in frustration, biceps bulging and chest heaving. His throat bobbed as you closed his slack jaw and tilted his chin up, brushing your thumb delicately over his tiny scar to urge him to look at you. “What’s got you so distracted, hm? What’s on my baby’s mind?”
He forced his eyes open again, so dark that you could see yourself reflected in them clear as day. They gave you your answer before he even said it. 
“You,” he breathed. It was a reply he’d normally be proud of, but with the way you were staring him down from above, he couldn’t stop a sheepish giggle from rising in his throat, lips twitching at their corners and cheeks bunching up.
“Me?” you echoed. “Or this?”
You slid your strap back inside him in one sharp thrust, angling it so that the tip rolled against the roof of his walls and hit his prostate perfectly. He cried out as if on command, high-pitched and sweet. “Ah! Yes, r-right there.”
Even your own rules were becoming less convincing of a reason to deny him when you knew those were the kinds of sounds you’d be missing out on. But you were on a mission, today; teaching Changbin how to multitask, or, toying with his body until he couldn’t take it anymore—whichever came first.
“There’s my answer.” You feigned disappointment, flattening your palm against his stomach and pressing down right around where you guessed the head of your strap had reached inside him. “All you care about is being filled up, huh, baby?”
“N-no, no.” His hand pawed around blindly in the sheets for a moment before he found you, grabbing on to your wrist and pushing your hand harder against the soft pudge of his tummy. You weren’t sure if he’d done it just to gain some kind of stimulation, or because he was just aching to be as close to you as physically possible, but to his credit, he forced himself not to lose his train of thought even as the sensation had his eyes rolling back.
“Binnie’s a good boy. ‘M only like this ‘cause of you. I need you, please.”
He was right; he was such a good boy. He could forget how to count, forget how to close his mouth, forget how to listen, but he’d never ever forget how to say please. That was something you didn’t have to teach him. Still, you didn’t give him what he wanted just yet, instead tracing gentle patterns on his skin, just above where his cock was leaking out tiny drops of precum. It took a few moments for him to connect the dots, but finally, he rasped out the word you were looking for.
“Four…n-no, wait, it was five,” he stammered. “Please, don’t stop, please?”
“Good boy,” you cooed. Grabbing hold of his thighs, you used all your strength to pull your bodies closer together, lifting his legs and settling them around your waist for easier access. A cute, flustered giggle escaped him as he scooted down the mattress, melting into a sigh of pleasure when you were able to nestle your strap even deeper inside him than before.
His fingers sank into the sheets, gripping them so tight that you could see the muscles in his forearms flexing. “S-six,” he gritted out. “M-mm, feels so good. More, please, more.”
The sound of skin on skin began to fill the room as you finally picked up your pace like Changbin had been begging for. You made every stroke count; deep and heavy, pulling out until just the head of your strap was left teasing his entrance, then sliding all the way back inside until your hips smacked against the back of his thighs. The new position immediately took a toll on him, you could tell by the growing lapse in his counting. Every time you left his walls fluttering around nothing, it took a few seconds before he remembered to call out the next number, just so he could feel the relief of you burying the toy inside him again.
“Nine,” he gasped. The building pressure in his core drained his concentration little by little, making for an adorable show of reactions for you the more his self-control slipped. Every pretty sound he made rang out in the thick, hot air around you, unrestrained and heavenly. Your gaze fell from his blissed out face to where his dick laid half-hard against his stomach, bouncing from the impact of your movements. It gave you an idea. 
Changbin choked on his next number as you brought your hand to his head, scooping up the tiny beads of precum and curling your fingers around it. You felt him swell in your grip almost instantly, and when you began to pump his cock along with your thrusts, he fully throbbed in your hands with a fresh wave of heat.
“El-elev—ngh,” he slurred out, barely intelligible. “Three…four. No, t-ten.”
“Four? Ten?” you mimicked. “That’s not right, baby. Try again.”
You swirled your thumb around his leaking tip, effectively fizzling out the last of his thoughts. It was hopeless; the strokes of your hand were mixing up with the pump of your strap, muddling his everything together until he couldn’t distinguish between the pleasure. “Six…n-no, ah. Good, so good. I c-can’t—”
“You usually listen so well, Binnie,” you frowned. “What happened to my good boy?”
Changbin bit down on his bottom lip, so hard that you worried his cute little fang might dig deep enough to split the plush skin. You timed your thrusts seamlessly with the rhythm of your hand, sinking down on his cock as you pulled out of him, and gliding back up his length as you bottomed out again.
“Y-your hand,” he whimpered. “It’s confusing me, I can’t…feels too good.”
“Should I stop touching you, then?”
You released him from your grip, letting his dick fall against his stomach to twitch over the loss. His hips surged up in protest, a soft whine spilling out of him and growing even louder when you pulled your strap out of him in one fluid motion, leaving his walls clenching wildly for you.
“No, no,” he groaned, locking his ankles around your waist to try and bring you closer. “Please, ‘m so close. Please.”
Taking the silicone into your hand, you lined it up with his entrance, pressing the tip just hard enough against him to add an exhilarating pressure. His reaction didn’t disappoint; a full-body shudder, rippling through his muscular thighs, making his chest jump and his biceps tighten.
“You want it, baby?” you asked sweetly, circling the head of the toy around his rim. 
“Yes, yes, please.” The way he rolled his body was nothing short of sinful, you almost gave in right there. His tiny grunts of frustration only grew the more your strap prodded at his hole, teasing the sensitive nerve-endings without giving him the satisfaction of slipping back inside. “Please, b-been so good. Give it to me, please.”
“I know, baby.” You inched the toy away before he could get any real stimulation out of it, brushing its slick tip against his inner thighs in a playful taunt. “Just tell me where we left off, and I’ll fuck you like a good boy.”
Changbin shot you a look of pure helplessness, eyebrows scrunching in dismay as it dawned on him what you wanted.
“I-I…I don’t remember,” he mumbled, not even trying to muster up a guess before he surrendered. “I got it all mixed up, I can’t—”
“I thought Binnie was smart?” 
He squeaked in protest as you pulled your strap completely away with a click of your tongue. “I am! I a-am. Again, please? I’ll try again.”
It wouldn’t make a difference, he knew that as well as you did. But he said it anyway, as a last resort—anything to feel you stretching him out again, anything to hear you whisper honeyed praises into his ear as he fell apart for you.
“You’re hopeless, baby,” you murmured, brushing back his fluffy bangs to reveal his eyes. They were wide as moons, full of desperation and welling up with tears at their corners.
“Please.” The droplets spilled over before he could blink them away. You softened as they trickled down his flushed cheeks, darkening his eyelashes and glazing over his pupils. 
“You’re crying?” Gently, you cupped his face to soothe him. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin as you wiped away his stray tears, only for new ones to take their place again. “You want it that bad, angel?”
The wet gleam in his eyes spoke for itself, but still, he managed a tiny nod. 
“You look so pretty like this,” you marveled, rubbing the pad of your thumb under his eye to scoop up another bead trailing down his face.
Despite himself, Changbin perked up over your words. “Pretty?” he sniffled.
“Mm.” A mix of lube and tears smeared his skin as you tilted his chin up, looking him straight in his eyes to admire the fresh droplets gathering at their edges. They caught the light like rhinestones, a visual captivating enough for you to give him anything his heart desired in that moment. “Beautiful boy. My pretty little crybaby.”
Changbin’s nose scrunched up, a shy, downturned smile tugging at his lips. He knew there was a condescending hint to your words, but when they were spoken so sweetly, when you called him pretty in that voice—when you called him yours in that voice—he could do nothing but melt.
“Seriously. Don’t you like me too much?” He pawed your hand away in embarrassment, but you didn’t miss how his face lit up, visibly yearning for more compliments, for your approval. 
You let out a fond hum. Just like that, you’d found the key to keeping him motivated. He sucked in a sharp breath of surprise as you took hold of your strap, realigning it with his entrance.
“Let’s try again.” You tapped the head of the toy against his rim, just to bask in the way it made him wriggle in the sheets. “Show me how good you are, baby.”
He nodded again, still timid, but revitalized by your encouragement. His lips puckered into a cute little rosebud for you, and with a soft giggle, you took the hint, leaning down to press them against yours. The wet trails on his cheeks cooled your skin as you kissed him, slowly, dragging your lips past the corner of his mouth to kiss away away his tears, too. His shaky sigh fanned out around you, warm and feather-light as you sank back into him, all the way to the hilt of your strap. 
“One.”
You rested one hand on the mattress, bringing the other back to his dripping cock. It was still fully hard even after being neglected so long, jerking gratefully in your palm as you began to stroke it again.
“Two. Th—mm—three.”
“That’s my boy,” you praised. “I know you can do it for me.”
You matched the rock of your hips with the glide of your hand, just as you’d been doing before. It immediately took effect on Changbin, slurring his speech and making his face scrunch up. But he kept trying for you.
“Four…ah, please.”
“Good boy. Keep it up, okay?” You rolled your strap against his sweet spot, teasing it repeatedly with the curved silicone tip before pulling out again. 
“Five. F-five, again, please.”
You indulged him. “Doing so well for me, Binnie,” you crooned, swiping your thumb over his swollen head and making his hips buck. “My smart boy. My good boy.” 
“Mm, mm. Binnie’s smart. Your s-smart boy,” he agreed. He was so simple; spurred on by your doting, even as that familiar, hot coil in his abdomen started nipping at the edges of his mind again. “Your g’boy…ngh. So good.”
More tears trickled from the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut, trying to get ahold of his thoughts long enough to get out the next number. You were being so patient with him, so kind to him, he had to do his best for you. 
“Six,” he whimpered. A new wave of droplets spilled over, this time, because the pleasure was growing too strong to bear. You picked up your pace as you drank in the addictive sight; his clenching stomach, tear-stained face, his bulging muscles grasping at the sheets. He deserved it when he took it all so well and looked so good doing it. 
“Seven, eight—close! I c-can’t—!”
“Almost there, baby. Just a little more,” you encouraged him. “You’re so perfect like this. Don’t you wanna show me how pretty you look when you cum for me?”
His dick stiffened in your hand, both over your words and the way you wrapped your palm around its sticky tip. The squelching noise that each roll of your hand created started to mess with his head again, distracting him from his count.
“Eight…e-eight—ah, please. Please, please, please. ‘M gonna—”
“C’mon Binnie, you’re so close. Don’t give up now.”
“Ten, n-no, nine? Nine—?”
He clenched his jaw, hips surging up and walls tightening around your strap like he was afraid you might pull out at any moment. It was useless. No matter how desperately he tried to concentrate, the pressure in his stomach consumed everything else, emptying his mind a little more each time you filled him up. “S-sorry, ‘m sorry. It’s so good, t-too good.”
“I know, baby,” you purred, sensing that he’d reached his limit. “It’s okay, let it all out for me.”
Changbin’s words melted into moans again as you thrust into him with more force, giving him no chance to brace himself for each dizzying stroke, let alone keep track of them anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was because of how tortuously long the buildup to his climax had been, but the sensation creeping up on him felt more intense than usual, like a dam of water waiting to break. Everything felt amplified—the drag of the silicone along his ridges, the sensitivity of his nerve-endings at every point of contact, the dancing of your fingers around his cock—it was all dialed up to a hundred.
You thumbed at his leaking slit, unprepared for just how powerful of a reaction it’d elicit from him. He stiffened beneath you as a jolt of pleasure shot straight to his core, breaking the dam loose all at once.
Changbin’s broken sob sent a shiver down your spine. He arched his back off the mattress as his orgasm racked his body, spurting his release against the pad of your thumb. You stopped rocking your hips to admire him, completely taken by the sight unfolding before you. His cock pulsed in your hand with every wave of pleasure that passed through him, spraying out more cum than you’d ever seen before. It was noticeably different from the sticky white ropes you were used to—watery and messy. The streams splattered against his contracting stomach, glazing his skin with a translucent layer of fluid and coating your hand in the process.
He was panting by the time the last few drops of his release spilled from his aching head. Even as it dribbled down his hips and sank into the sheets underneath him, he didn’t quite understand what had happened, far too preoccupied with the tiny aftershocks rippling through his body. 
Your fingers uncurled from his dick, letting it fall limply against his ruined stomach. He flinched as you ran your hand over his soft, soaked flesh, still hypersensitive after the climax that had shaken him more intensely than either of you bargained for. 
“Look at that, baby,” you marveled, holding up your dripping fingers for him to see. “Your dick’s crying, too.”
Changbin’s eyes fluttered open, shiny with residual teardrops. They widened when he registered why his skin felt so wet, why the bed beneath him felt so sticky and warm, and why his muscles felt deliciously sore, like when he stretched them after a good workout. His cheeks flushed beet red, legs squeezing around your waist in a pointless attempt to cover himself.
“Oh my God. I c-can’t believe—” His face was hot with shame as he buried it into his palms, muffling a noise that sounded something between a giggle and a miserable wail. “I didn’t mean to. W-wait, don’t look, please.”
His babbling trailed off when you stroked his stomach, a gentle touch that masked how fast your heart was still racing over the effect you’d had on his body. You wanted to make it happen again.
“That was intense,” you murmured. “Are you okay, Binnie?”
He couldn’t find the courage in him to reply, too mortified to face you after making such a wreck of himself, too dazed to string a proper sentence together. All he could manage was peeking out shyly between his fingers.
You rested your hands over his to tug them away from his eyes and get a look at him. A soft objection rumbled in his throat, but he let you, anyway, mustering all his self-control to not shove his face in the pillows and hide away from your stare.
“M okay,” he reassured you quietly. 
“Felt good?”
“Good,” he mumbled. “Too good. Wh-what did you do?”
“Ask yourself that, baby,” you drawled. Changbin shivered as you gave his hips a squeeze, an embarrassing mewl slipping past his lips when he clenched around your strap reflexively and realized it was still nestled deep inside him. “Look at the pretty little mess you made for me.”
Changbin let out another low whine. He gave up on maintaining eye contact, turning his head to squish his heated cheeks against the pillow. “Binnie’s shy.”
“You’re so cute.” You ran your fingers through his messy curls to ease his mind, relieved when you felt some of his tension relieve under your touch. “Do you have any idea how hot that was?” 
Your words seemed to snap him back to his senses, clearing the fog in his head and reminding him of how he’d even reached this point in the first place. He made a tiny grunt of effort as he scrambled to prop himself up on his unsteady elbows, eyes widening with guilt. When he spoke, his voice was shot, edged with a delicious rasp after how much he’d strained it.
“I…” he giggled nervously. “I-I lost count again.”
You puffed out a light laugh of your own. Even you had completely forgotten about keeping track of your thrusts after watching Changbin fall apart so beautifully for you. Your little experiment may not have worked out, but you were far more interested in the outcome, anyway.
“Guess we’ll just have to keep practicing, yeah? Until we find out how many it takes for you to cum for me like that again.” 
517 notes · View notes
horrorartsworld · 2 days
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Hey!! A mutual just sent me your fic "A manspreading man" and gosh,,,definitely one of the best steamy Alastor x reader I've read 😩❤ If you're okay with it, could I request an Alastor x shy!reader where a cozy night when neither of them can sleep so they stay up, maybe having tea together too but, they end up getting steamy with each other?,, 😳 Love your work!! ❤❤
𝓉𝑒𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹
alastor/shy f!reader
warnings: smut w/ a lil fluffies. pet names. kind of primal alastor. p in v. fingering. dub con. not proofread.
aww thank you nonnie baby!! tbh manspreading man was one of my favorites to write so i’m very glad to hear that you liked it so much to request something this lovely & spicy 🤭 got me going back to my roots with writing for al lol, i hope u enjoy <3
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For some odd reason you couldn’t fall asleep. Not that the noises of constant terrors outside and the old sounds of the hotel didn’t have you usually sleeping like a baby it’s just that tonight of all nights seemed different.
Having you tossing and turning like a flopping fish, moments of just staring at the empty ceiling, or throwing a pillow over your face in hopes that you might suffocate yourself to sleep, but none of those seemed to help your ongoing sleep deprivation.
Finally after the last toss you turned you end up throwing yourself out of bed with a huff and your feet seem to oddly enough lead you to none of than Alastor’s quarters right across from your room. The door being slightly cracked enough to let you peak inside, hearing the inviting soft crackly of a jazz record playing and seeing the flicker of a candle going on an end table. Though it seemed very inviting you couldn’t help the sudden nervousness you felt wash over you when you went to approach the door, hugging the blanket you dragged along the way for some kind of support in this. Since you did have a crush on the deer fellow after all and everytime he would come around you would loose all your senses and look like an utter idiot when you’d scurry away from him to save face. In which you were completely committed to doing right now until the door suddenly swung open and you were met with Alastor’s elegantly tall stature.
“Oh!- Well hello my dear..” He speaks surprised to see you standing there holding your blanket in hand, hearing the static in his voice instantly turning your cheeks pink. “What brings you to my door at this hour.?”
You shift on your feet fiddling with your hands in the blanket before speaking, “m’ sorry a-alastor i-i just couldn’t sleep..i’ll be going now..” Your eyes trained on the buttons of his blazer, never meeting his gaze in knowing you’d blush more if you did while you spoke, quickly turning on your heel to make your way back to your room though his clawed hand grabbed your wrist before you could completely make your getaway.
Then you were pulled back to face him, his other hand coming up to your chin to make you look up at him, your cheeks instantly warming up more like you knew they would. “Can’t sleep? You poor thing..I actually have quite the remedy for such things..” He hums, then suddenly letting go of you to grab something from a cupboard leaving you standing there in his doorway.
After a second or two he turns his head to see you standing there sheepishly earning a soft chuckle from him. “Come sit dear..it’ll just be a moment.” He says nodding over to an antique arm chair that sat next to an intricate round table with a matching chair on the other side to go with it.
You shimmy yourself over to it making yourself comfortable on the chair, seeming to feel a bit more relaxed now that you were seated. Alastor then comes to sit down across from you holding two warm teacups that you were sure he used his demon magic to conjure to a certain temp, gesturing it out to you to take. “It’s Chamomile Tea…should do the trick for your sleeplessness..” He says taking his own sip before you did, letting the cup warm up your hands until you tasted it yourself feeling instantly at ease when it went down your throat.
“Wow…that’s good! Thank you Al!” You say with a soft hum and a smile causing Alastor’s smile to look more gentle though something was silently brewing behind those mischievous dial eyes.
“My pleasure my dear…my pleasure indeed..” He takes another sip as there’s a long pause between the two of you. Seeing his gaze over the rim of the cup had wandered down your chest to your hips in an indiscreet way, making your breath slightly falter at the sight.
“S-so…what’re you doing up so late as well?” Your gentle voice hardly above a whisper when you stammer out the question.
“Well I hardly ever sleep..too much to do..and too many folks out there trying to put my head on a mount..” He says nonchalantly in which you nod knowing this was very true with his background, but it was hard to even focus on a simple conversation like this one when his gaze continued its improper cycle along your body.
“Um A-alastor?” You tilt your head down trying to catch his eyes in attempt at getting his attention back by making him realize what he was doing though he already was very much aware what he was doing.
“Hmm? Oh sorry dear, it’s just that…fuck..” He unexpectedly cruses causing your thighs to staple shut when a warmth radiates through your core. Your eyes widening at his outburst, taking note that his chest was rising and falling rather quickly. “W-what’s the matter?” You mutter out confused, big doe eyes searching for some kind of answer on his unreadable face.
A tension brews as a low crackly chuckle escapes from his lips, “You like me don’t you little fawn?”
The unexpected question making a lump form in your throat. Why was he asking this? Were you that obvious? “Going quiet on me now?” His voice rippling through your thoughts with a sense of mocking in his tone. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of darling…” He trails off then getting up from his chair with a creak from its old legs, rounding the small table to come and tower over you, microphone buzzing when he sets it beside him as he leaned into you very close with ether hands at the sides of you clutching the arms of your chair. “..I’m quite fond of you myself..” He husks, his once static voice turning to his normal one as he leaned into your ear to utter those words.
“Y-you are?” You manage to find your voice again, feeling as if the chamomile tea had already kicked in and you were in a surreal dream.
“Mmm yess..” He practically purrs while he toys with the hem of your sleep shorts before riding it up so he can peer down at your plush thighs that were trembling so desperately to try and keep them sealed shut. Then thumbing over the sensitive flesh there he forces them open with his claws digging into them so he could hoist you up and wrap your legs around his hips to bring you to bed and once he has you there he lays you down with him on top but keeping your legs secured around him. “..Feel how much i yearn for you,” he says almost like a question as you then feel him grind his hard on into your clothed warmth. Your face burning as you nod. “Good girl..Shall I show you what I want to do to you?” once more nodding your head he can’t help the low growl admitting from the back of his throat when he slides a finger under the hem of your shorts and pulls them down towards the floor, primal eyes locking onto the wetness of your panties. The sight making his smile enlarged.
“My, My...so soaked just from that?” He couldn’t help but tease, in one single motion ripping your panties off, discarding them just like the shorts.
A low humming buzz is heard when Alastor gets a full view of your needy slick. Pretty pussy, all puffy and red, begging for a good fuck. You couldn’t help instinctively attempt at closing your legs once more with how vulnerable you were infront of him, but he holds them open forcefully with his hands. “Sweetheart..no need to shy away from me…i’m gonna make you feel so good..” you whimper softly just by those cooed words alone, along with the two fingers that were now invading your entrance. The sensation making your body shake as he did it without warning, moving in slow in and out strokes with his fingers, making wet sloshy noises with the air with your hushed whimpers. His fingers feeling like they were so far inside that they’ve reached max capacity…Was his fingers always this long?
“Al-al!..” You whine breathlessly, an all too familiar feeling stirring beneath your tummy with your cunt clenching around his fingers, but he immediately stops just before you could fully come undone.
“Not yet...” He hums with a knowing smile, gently patting your cheek with the other hand. You pout at this though that was quickly replaced when his fingers come in contact with his mouth, softly slurping up the left slick on his fingers, before he crashes his lips on yours, long tongue invading your space making you taste the tangy yet neutral flavor of your own arousal, all while your hips rut against his own in hopes to get that feeling back of your lost euphoria.
Finally getting the hint from your movements he pulls back and takes out his cock, tantalizing tapping it against your aching slit before fully pressing it into your already awaiting pussy. A loud enough cry following with his cock stretching you out with it’s full enough size, reaching much farther lengths then his fingers did. “Such a snug little thing you are,” He hisses while rutting into you, your body bouncing and recoiling with every thrust.
Your head falls back into the mattress, mumbling curses under your breath as the feeling was driving you mad, making him chuckle as you seem to squeeze him in tighter. “You like that..the way my cock just goes in…and out..” He groans as he emphasizes the in and out part by going slow and hard, his cock hitting the wall of your cervix even when he goes slow. “Hey..let me see those pretty fucked out eyes..” he growls lowly, “Atta girl..,” his finger leaning your chin down to look at him, the sight of him so sinful it almost made you come undone on the spot.
His ears flat amongst his head, eyes low and focused and his lip curled almost in a smirk with sweat lining his forehead. You wanted that imagine burned in your brain, which you couldn’t help but admit in your slur of babbles passing from your lips, which only made him fuck you even harder. “Mphmm, yeah? Burned in your brain huh..? That can be arranged..” He snickers genuinely considering haunting you with this imagine from time to time just to make you squirm.
Soon enough, the tightening of your tummy comes back once more and your walls contracts around Alastor’s cock harder then you’d expect. The cum creaming down his cock and dripping onto his sheets beneath you though his pace and speed never lets up. If anything it becomes more impactful as he works up his own orgasm, with you feeling overly sensitive.
His claws dig into your hips as his own snaps ferociously against yours and your post-cumming expression floating in your big eyes was enough to have him over the edge. “I’m gonna make you feel nice and full okay sweetheart?” He seethes out as his hips sputter and he spills his load into your spent little womb.
Slowly pulling out and away, he makes a towel appear in his hand to help you clean up. A soft whimper making its way out at the hollowness you now felt inside, but you were starting to feel sleepy with a small yawn coming after your whimper. “That’s it’s darling…you can sleep now..” He then tucks you under the covers gently with a soft kiss to your forehead seeing your eyes fluttering gently into slumber, completely spent with the workout he just gave you.
After he cleans himself and gets dressed he walks over to the abounded teacups eyeing his own carefully, when he realizes in the murky brew that he accidentally spiked his own somehow, chuckling at his own mix up that ether way seemed to do the trick for your tiresome night.
“No wonder the tea’s gone cold..”
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alotofpockets · 1 day
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The set up | Alessia Russo x Reader
Where your best friend Gio sets you up with his sister.
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k
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“Come on, just let me set you up with one more girl.” Your best friend begged, making you roll your eyes. He loved trying to set you up, but nothing ever really came from it. “Like your other set ups worked so well.” 
“Please, just one more before I head off to Bali. I can’t leave you here all on your own.” Oh he could be so annoying. “I have friends besides you Gio, you know that right?" You give him a friendly shove. 
“Y/n, she’s totally your type. Just give me one more chance.” You knew when he was putting up his best puppy eyes, that you weren’t going to be able to say no. “Fine, but it will be your going away present, so don’t expect anything else.”
You checked your phone one more time to check if you had gotten the right restaurant, a reservation for two under the name Russo he had said. Why he had used his name instead of yours was a mystery to you, but that mystery quickly unravelled when you saw the girl that was sitting at the table the waiter was leading you to.
“Lessi?” The girl looked up with confusion written all over your face, just like yourself. “Hey y/n/n, what are you doing here?” 
“Well, apparently Gio tried setting me up with you.” Alessia chuckled, “Of course he did.” You hesitate for a moment, which Alessia seems to notice. “Sit, this place has amazing food. Plus Gio is paying for the whole thing.” Now it was your turn to laugh. “How did you manage that?”
You settle into your seat while Alessia tells you how she convinced her brother to pay for the whole date. Alessia was right, the menu had some great choices, as you looked through them you wondered why Gio would set you up with his sister, was this one of his jokes, or was he serious about this?
"So, how have you been?" Alessia asks, breaking the brief silence. "I feel like it's been ages since we caught up properly." You had met Gio back in college, and had known his whole family for ages. 
“It really has been a while, hasn’t it? I’m doing well. I got promoted at work which prompted my move to London, they offered me a managing position at their location here. I’ve been getting used to the changes, home and work wise, but overall I’m really happy with the change. How have you been? Has Arsenal been treating you well?” Now that you think of it, you hadn’t been to one of her matches since made the move to Arsenal. You often joined Gio and the Russo family on seeing Alessia play for either club or country, having watched her grow from a college athlete to this phenomenal professional player. 
Alessia tells you all about her move to London and her time at Arsenal so far over the pizza’s that you both ordered. It had actually been really nice hanging out with the girl one on one, something you hadn’t done all too often. 
When both your plates are empty, you don’t want to leave yet but you know you’ll have to say goodnight because you have work in the morning. “This was really nice Less, would you want to do it again some time?” You didn’t know how the blonde was looking at this set up as an actual date, or just as friends catching up, but as the evening came to an end you realised just how much you had enjoyed her company, and how much you would like to go out with her again.
“I had a great time, and I would love to do it again sometime, it’s a date.” Your heart warmed at the words ‘it’s a date’, glad to hear that she was feeling the same way. “Do you want to mess with Gio a bit?” She suggested, and she told you her plan after you agreed. 
You step into Gio’s apartment without an invitation to come in, or saying hello. “Your sister? You set me up with your sister?” You tried your hardest not to smile. His eyes widened, “I really thought you guys would hit it off, and if not it would just be funny.” You shake your head and walk out of the door again. As you get in your car you quickly send Alessia a text.
Y/n: Part one of the plan has been executed :)
The next day you eagerly await Alessia’s text, after lunch your phone finally buzzes with a message from her. 
Alessia: Part two is in motion!
You smile at the message, imagining what Alessia has cooked up, as she was clearly enjoying pranking her brother as much as you were.
The plan was to make Gio believe he messed up with setting the two of you up, while actually you already had your second date planned. 
The second date was even better than the first one, instead of sitting down at a restaurant you went to an arcade. When you headed in the bustling arcade filled your ears, as Alessia led you right to the first game. “Ready to get crushed?” A sparkle behind her eyes told you enough about how tonight was going to go. “Bring it on.” You said back with determination.
You smirk as you get ball after ball in the basket, Alessia was doing well too, but your points were definitely going up quicker. When the timer ends, you have almost double the points she has. Alessia looks over in disbelief. “Less, how did your brother and I get to know each other?” She thinks for a moment before it finally dawns on her, you were both on the basketball team in college. “Okay, so that game doesn’t count because there was an unfair advantage. Let’s move on.” 
She takes your hand and drags you to a new game, where the both of you are just as competitive. The wins were divided more now, her being better at some games, and you better at others. All in all, you had a great time. 
At the end of the night she invited you to come see her play on Sunday, an offer you gladly accepted. It had really been too long since you had seen her play, and you were interested to see how her playing style had changed since she joined the new club. 
She walked you to your front door, “You’ll be at the airport tomorrow as well right?” You nod, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world” Gio was leaving for Bali tomorrow, and his family and a couple of his closest friends were coming to wave him off. Since you had stormed out of his apartment, the two of you were good again, but he still had no idea that you and Alessia had started dating. 
Before she turns around to get to her car, she leans in and pecks your lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You kiss her again, wanting her with you a little longer. “Goodnight Less, text me when you get home?” With a nod and another quick kiss, you watch her drive off. 
The next day you meet the Russo family at the airport. No one wanted to say goodbye, but you knew you had to since Gio had a plane to catch so you stepped up first. You give him a big hug, “I’m going to miss you, Gio. Have an amazing trip, and send me all the updates please.” 
Gio noticed the two of you embracing, and started smirking instantly. He walked up to the two of you. “I knew it!” You rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah yeah, you finally set me up with a good one.” He hugged the both of you. “I’m very happy for you both. Take care of each other while I’m away?” With a promise that you would, he went off to board his plane.
After you, more of Gio’s friends went ahead and said their goodbye’s, and last but not least, his family did as well. Alessia stepped back from saying bye with teary eyes, the goodbye being emotional for the family. She walked right towards you, and you wrapped your arms around her in comfort, no longer caring about the little plan you had made. 
Carol walked up to the two of you, “Want to join us for dinner tonight, sweetheart?” You looked over to Alessia to make sure she was okay with you saying yes to her mom. When she agreed with a nod and a smile, you told Carol you would love to. 
When Gio landed you were still at the Russo’s, and you Gio had added you all to a group chat called ‘Bali updates for the fam’, you smiled at the way he included you with his family, as the five of you watched his video showing you all the hotel room he would spend the first night.
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puckinghischier · 2 days
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Desperate for Dessert
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
WARNING: smut!! 18+ only. minors DNI. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it). oral(f!receiving). p in v.
summary: anon request for the smut implied at the end of suds n sorrows
notes: this is my first time ever writing smut, so don’t hate me if it’s terrible. i tried 😭
part 2 to this!
[2.9k]
~
“Nico, you’re going to get the bed all wet!”
“Oh trust me, that’s the plan,” Nico smirks down at you, having just thrown your damp, naked body on the made bed.
You roll your eyes as he lets the towel covering his waist drop, showing just how excited he is at the sight of you laying naked on your shared bed.
He wastes no time in crawling onto the bed, hovering over you. “Hi.”
“Hi?” you respond with a giggle, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can look at his face.
The fire that was present in his eyes just moments ago is gone. He’s holding himself up above you, simply staring at you. The amount of love and adoration that is present in his eyes makes your stomach turn flips. You start to get a little antsy, holding his stare for what feels like hours.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? And how lucky I am to have you? And how much I love you,” he blurts, breaking the intense moment.
“I don’t recall. Maybe you should try and remind me. Jog my memory a little bit.”
A small smile breaks out on his face as he leans down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He keeps the kiss innocent, pulling back after only a second to place a kiss to your nose.
“I,” his lips move to your left cheek. “Love,” he moves to your right cheek. “You,” his lips land on your forehead before finally returning to your lips.
The kiss is a bit more rushed than the last, his tongue coming to poke at the seam of your lips, gaining the access he wanted. You raise your arms to rest your hands against the back of his neck, pulling him down to you, wanting his body as close as you could get him.
The longer the kiss goes on, you can feel the familiar warmness of arousal form in the pit of your stomach. Nico breaks the kiss to move his lips to your neck, allowing you to catch your breath for a few seconds. You move your hands to his hair as he attacks your neck with bites and sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. Your mind wanders to how quickly the environment went from tender to heated. You let out a chuckle involuntarily, causing Nico to halt his actions.
“Somethin’ funny, Schatz?” he asks through heavy breaths. He looks up at you, lips full and swollen, hair a mess from your hands.
The sight of him like this sends a wave of heat straight to your core. You try to clench your thighs to create some form of friction on the sensitive area, but Nico’s body prevents you from doing so. You start to squirm a bit, needing some relief from the growing arousal.
“Just thinking about how quick you switched from sweet to horny. Thought it was funny,” you admit, taking your hands and pushing the hair off of his forehead, letting them fall back down to the nape of his neck.
“Oh, yeah? This funny to you?” He lowers his hips, rubbing his cock against your slick core, causing you to jolt in surprise.
“Nope. Not at all. Not funny,” you pant out, trying to grind back against him, but he had already pulled away. You whine at the loss of contact, causing him to laugh now.
“Yeah, look at who’s switching up now,” Nico cocks an eyebrow, watching desperation take over your body.
You look up at him, mouth slightly open, begging him with your eyes to do something. You don’t care what it is at this point. His fingers, his mouth, his dick. You just need him to touch you, all humor in the situation no longer on your mind.
“Gotta tell me what you want, Schatz. This is your treat after all, for bein’ such a sweetheart and taking care of me tonight. My treat’s waitin’ on me in the kitchen. But I won’t lie, I’m looking forward to my appetizer,” Nico moves his face down to your neck, breathing his words onto your skin.
“I don’t care. Anything.” You rush your words, eyes falling closed from his hot breath on your neck.
“Uh-Uh. Your choice, Y/N. I don’t move until those pretty little lips of yours do,” he teases, letting his lips move against your skin.
You try to bring your thighs together once again, every touch of his lips on your neck lighting a fire on your skin.
“Your mouth. I want your mouth, Neeks,” you basically moan, thinking of how much you want him to stop talking and do something.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Nico lifts his face from your neck, smirking down at you.
He brings his mouth down to yours, teasing you with a slow kiss, tongue exploring your mouth. He adjusts his body so his thigh is fully in-between your legs, causing you to moan into the kiss when his solid thigh brushes against your soaked core. You take advantage of the contact, grinding yourself onto his naked thigh, chasing relief.
Nico begins to kiss down your jaw, his mouth attaching to your neck once again. “As much as I like the feeling of you riding my thigh, baby, you’re gonna have to stop. You asked for my mouth, ‘member?” he mumbles through his assault of your neck.
“Then quit teasing me and do something, Neeks. Need you,” you whine in response, grinding slightly harder in frustration.
“Good things come to those who wait. And you will, too, if you just let me savor you for a few minutes.”
He moves on from your neck as he slowly slides his body down, removing his thigh from its position against the spot you need him most. His lips find their way down your chest as he licks a stripe down the valley in-between your breasts. Your breath quickens at the action, back arching as he captures one of your nipples in his mouth.
He looks up at you as he swirls his tongue around the taut bud, bringing a hand up to give attention to your other breast. He feels his own arousal growing at the expression on your face. Your mouth is open in a silent ‘o’, not making nearly enough sound for his liking.
“C’mon, Schatz, wanna hear you. Just you ‘n’ me here, let it out,” Nico demands, removing his mouth to latch onto your other breast, switching his hand to toy with the opposite one.
You groan at the sensation, hands gripping at the comforter beneath you. The noise earns a teasing bite to your sensitive nipple, head flying up to look down at the man on top of you.
He looks up at you, eyes claiming innocence as he continues to move his way down your body. Trailing kisses down your stomach, he drops to his knees on the carpeted floor in front of the bed. He removes his lips to readjust and pull your body to the edge of the bed.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. How lucky I am that you’re all mine,” he admires your glistening pussy in front of him. He places small, feather-light kisses on the inside of your thighs, continuing to tease you despite your earlier protests.
“Please, Nico. I’m begging you. Need you,” you cry out, trying to move your body further down to meet his mouth.
“I love it when you’re desperate,” he raises his head, moving further away from where you need him. “Now you know how I feel all the time. Can’t ever get enough of you, pretty girl. Always want you, all the time,” you raise your head to look at him, growing even more desperate at the sight of him between your legs.
He moves his head back down to your center, keeping eye contact as he finally makes contact, licking a stripe clean up to your clit. You cry out at the feeling of relief, dropping your head back down on the mattress.
Nico wastes no time diving in like you’re his last meal. His tongue circles your clit in the most delicious pattern, causing your hands to once again fly to his hair. The sounds of him slurping your juices like it’s a gourmet meal causes you to tug and pull on his hair, earning a groan from him that radiates throughout your whole body.
“Gonna make me blow my load if you do that again, Schatz,” he says against your folds.
“Sorry. Feels too good,” is all you choke out before he reattaches his lips.
You try to keep your touch in his hair light as he continues, but when you feel his tongue enter you, every thought other than pure pleasure leaves your head. You clench around his tongue, feeling the growl he let out at the action. As he thrusts the muscle in and out of your hole, he pulls your body down further, trying to get even deeper.
The sounds you’re making are nothing short of pornographic, trying to squirm from the intensity. Nico places an arm over your waist, keeping your body pinned down during his aggressive assault. You feel the bubble of pleasure growing, the anticipation of your release making every muscle in your body tighten.
“Taste so good, Schatz. Better than candy,” Nico says against you, vibrations causing you to moan out loud enough for your neighbors to hear.
His words, mixed with the noises echoing in your bedroom, cause the coil in your belly to tighten, threatening to break free any second.
“Gonna come, Nico. So close,” you pant out, grasping as his hair once again, pushing his face even harder in-between your legs.
“Soak me, baby,” is all Nico has to say until the band inside of you snaps, causing every nerve in your body to burn white hot. Your legs shake as Nico rides you through the high with his tongue, a warm pleasantness settling over your skin.
Nico removes his face from between your legs once you fall limp, breath heaving as you try to regain oxygen to your brain. He licks his lips as he moves his body up to hover over yours again, not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet taste.
You have an arm thrown over your eyes, your limbs feeling heavy. “Look at me, baby, wanna see that pretty face of yours.”
“Can’t move,” you mumble, causing Nico to chuckle.
He gently removes your arm from your face, admiring the post-orgasm look on your face. You look up at him with half-closed lids, a tired smile making its way onto your face.
“If this is what baking and running you a bath every once in a while gets me, remind me to do it more often.”
Nico full on laughs at your statement, resting his forehead against your own.
“All you gotta do is ask, baby. I’ll gladly grant your request anytime. Now that I think about it, I could use a new pre-game meal for good luck next season,” he says before kissing your lips.
Your body instantly heats back up at his words, arousal already building once again. You remember how hard he was earlier, figuring he’s near painful after recent actions. As you look down to see his cock oozing pre-cum, you know he needs relief, soon.
You adjust your body so you can reach down and take him into your hand, stroking a few times as his body tenses, surprised at your actions.
“Your turn,” you find a surge of energy, removing your hand and flipping him over so you’re straddling his waist.
You try to move yourself down his body, knees dropping off the bed and almost touching the floor before Nico shoots up off the bed. He places his hands under your armpits, basically picking you up to bring you back to your previous position.
“Not tonight, Schatz. Want to be inside of you too much,” he squeaks out, your core brushing against his throbbing tip from the angle you’re sitting at.
He pulls your face down to meet his, slamming his lips against yours before turning you back over. He wastes no time in bringing his hand down to your core, groaning at how wet you already are once again.
“God, you’re always so ready f’me,” he slips a single finger inside of you, slipping in and out with ease.
You moan at the feeling, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. He pumps his finger in and out a few more times before bringing it up to his lips, sucking on the digit.
“Haven’t you teased me enough tonight?” you whine out, ready to feel full with him.
“Like I said, I like to savor my girl,” is what Nico responds with, moving his body to line himself up with your entrance.
Before you can even try to say anything back, he’s slamming into you so quickly you see stars. He bottoms out from the start, removing himself almost completely before thrusting back into you.
You cry out at the pace he’s setting, mouth hung open and eyes screwed shut.
“This what you wanted, Schatz? Wanted me to fill you up?” he grunts out in-between thrusts, bringing his hand down to stimulate your sensitive bud.
The added feeling of his calloused finger rubbing fast circles on your clit causes a sensation overload. Even the moans get stuck in your throat as Nico slams into you. It’s embarrassing how close you are already, your sensitivity causing borderline overstimulation.
“God, you’re always so tight. Always take me so well,” Nico buries his face into your neck, wanting to be as close to you as he can. “Swear, feels like you were made just for me.”
“Just for you. Only ever for you,” you manage to squeak out the broken words.
You bring your other leg up to dig your heels into Nico’s ass, trying to drive him further, deeper. You bring your hands from their place on his biceps to rake down his back, not even aware of how much pressure you’re applying until you hear Nico hiss.
“Glad the season’s over, or I’d be getting an earful in the locker room for the marks you’re leaving, Schatz,” he grunts out.
You can’t even mutter an apology, because as soon as the words leave his mouth, he changes the angle by straightening your bent leg, throwing it over his shoulder, your ankle resting near his ear. He presses a few kisses to the skin above your ankle, the new position has him hitting spots you never knew existed until this moment.
Nico can feel your walls clenching around him, having found the soft, spongy spot deep inside of you. “Not gonna last much longer, sweetheart. Need you to go first. Let go for me, know you’re close.” He spits out, reaching down to rub circles on your throbbing clit once again.
You can feel his thrusts turning sloppy, knowing he’s nearly there. One particularly deep thrust causes your orgasm to explode inside of you with no warning. You cry out in pleasure, entire body spasming. You barely register the feeling of Nico continuing his movements on your clit, nerves burning so hot with your release that you’re almost numb.
The feeling of your release triggers Nico’s own orgasm, causing him to still inside of you. You can feel the warm sensation of his cum inside of you, coming back down from your second high of the night. After a few more thrusts, Nico drops his spent body onto your own. He places soft kisses on the underside of your jaw, letting your leg fall back into a comfortable position. He doesn’t pull out of you just yet, wanting to feel your warmth just a bit longer.
“I love you,” you add to the sound of labored breaths in the air.
“I love you more, Schatz. And not just after sex, still inside of you,” you laugh at his poetic words. “I love you every day, all the time. You’re it for me, you know that, right?” he brings his chin to rest on your chest, making you lift your heavy head to be able to look at him.
Your heart swells, so much love radiating through your bones for the man on top of you. You truly hit the jackpot with him, considering yourself the luckiest girl in Jersey. Hell, the world, even.
“You’re it for me, too, Neeks. Couldn’t love anyone else even if I tried. No room left in here,” you tap your chest, right where your heart sits.
Nico moves his head over to place a kiss where your fingers just touched, laying his ear down to listen to your heartbeat.
The two of you lay like that for a few more minutes, not wanting to break the moment. Eventually Nico pulls himself out of you, remembering that you needed to go pee sooner rather than later. He follows you to the bathroom to help clean you up before you do your business and meet him back in your bedroom. He already has a fresh pair of boxers on, handing you a pair of your own underwear and one of his t-shirts to put on.
Nico slides a pair of sweatpants on as you get dressed, walking over towards the open bedroom door.
“Where are you going?” you question, wanting nothing more than to crawl in bed and cuddle your boyfriend as you fall asleep.
“Did you forget? That was only the appetizer. I still have one more treat left,” he references the cake you made him earlier in the evening.
You laugh as you follow him out of the bedroom, thinking about how he already got his cake, but now he gets to eat it, too.
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sometimesanalice · 1 day
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Make Me Your Masterpiece
Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)
(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)
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You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.
They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.
You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.
“I think that’s-” you’d started.
“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.
The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 
The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.
By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.
Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.
The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.
You’d been a goner right then and there.
And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.
As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.
Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.
He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.
Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.
You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”
It was the best first date you’d ever had.
For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.
You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.
You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.
Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.
You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 
Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.
He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 
You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.
Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.
You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.
Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.
“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”
You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.
It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.
Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.
“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”
He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 
You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.
You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.
It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.
There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.
First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.
You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.
Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.
Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.
Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.
You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 
After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.
“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.
He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”
Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.
You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.
Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.
You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.
He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”
“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.
You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.
His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.
“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.
Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”
You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.
The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.
“Where do you want me?”
“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.
His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”
Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”
You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.
You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.
His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.
Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.
He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.
Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.
There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.
He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”
You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.
You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.
Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.
You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  
“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”
Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.
You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.
“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”
The answer is easy, “Yes.”
You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.
The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.
The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.
He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”
You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.
“Bob”, you whine.
The camera clicks.
“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”
The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.
He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.
The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.
“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”
“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.
He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.
“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”
Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.
Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.
Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.
But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.
“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”
Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.
Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.
All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.
You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.
You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.
His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.
You needed more.
“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.
He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.
“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”
Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.
He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.
He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.
It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.
Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.
The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.
He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.
You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.
“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”
You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.
He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.
Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.
Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.
It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.
You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.
Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.
This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.
The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.
“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”
You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.
“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.
“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”
You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.
“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”
He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.
That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.
It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.
That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.
He gave you the sky and he made you his world.
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Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!
A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!
You can read my other stories here!
taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
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nomazee · 1 day
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Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉
May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢
Take your time! ❤️❤️
this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3
my 1k event!
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 
Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 
“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 
“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 
“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 
“It’s ‘you and I.’”
“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 
Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 
“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 
“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 
“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 
In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 
You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 
“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 
“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 
He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 
“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 
“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on his face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 
“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 
“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 
“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes
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reverie-starlight · 2 days
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sakusa is the number one guy to have an eye on you. If you so much as sniffle, he's pulling out he emergency scarf...
So he absolutely knows when you go on your period, but he tries to phrase it in a way that makes it kess obvious that he knows.
"is it that time already?"
how fitting is it that when I started writing this, my period did too? 🥲 sorry this took so long dira, I’ve been busier with school than I thought I’d be 😭 your other requests are in the works!!
gn!reader that menstruates, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. FLUFF. cuddly reader that's somewhat shy about affection. attentive kiyoomi. making this part of my MSBY!manager!reader mini-series as a little add-on :3
sakusa swears he can pinpoint the exact moment the switch flips in your brain and you succumb to the PMS feels.
you’re cuddling with him on the couch as a movie plays in the background when you shift a little. he glances down at his chest to see you resting your chin on his sternum, eyes wide as saucers and showcasing the familiar look of affection.
he sighs fondly and rests his hand on the back of your head. "someone feeling a bit needy?"
of course you are. he's been keeping track of your cycle since the beginning of your relationship, he has everything down to a T by now. he knows your symptoms, your usual cravings, how many days in advance he'll need to stock up on supplies... and it's never brought up, because you know he'd get a bit embarrassed if he were to be called out on it, but there's an unspoken understanding that he's tuned in to you and your body.
so obviously he knows that you're PMSing. even if he hadn't been tracking things, he'd know just by the way you had to keep yourself from clinging to him at practice earlier.
for whatever reason, you seem to become almost touch-starved just before your period, despite the constant stream of physical affection he gives you everyday.
so when you nod, he just smiles down at you softly and traces a heart on the apple of your cheek. “you did so well at practice today, manager.”
he thinks back to how you made it through the day despite waking up with a bad back and some sore thighs. another clue that tipped him off about your oncoming period.
you look up at him curiously, making his heart thump a little faster at how cute you look with your cheek smushed in his palm. “shouldn’t I be the one praising you for your performance today, actual athlete?”
he snorts, something he only ever finds himself doing around you. “I hear it enough everyday. How often do you get to?”
you nuzzle into his chest and he pretends that he doesn’t notice the shy smile you’re sporting. normally he would tease you, but he finds himself feeling much, much softer for you when you’re like this.
he rubs your lower back a bit and you whine at the relief it provides. “can I get you anything, my love?”
“kiyo, if you even think of getting up right now there will be hell to pay.”
he grins and scratches your scalp with his free hand. “of course, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
you lean up for a kiss and he happily obliges.
and so you stay like that for another ten minutes, the serene silence only broken by your stomach growling. “I’m not letting you go hungry. Let’s get you something to eat, come on.”
he picks you up and helps you wrap your legs around his waist before making way to the kitchen so he can fix you a snack. he works one handed, the occupied one settled under your thighs to support you, and listens to whatever you have to say.
needy as you may be, he wouldn’t trade getting to care for you for the world.
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hope you enjoyed!
some tags: @emmyrosee @luvring @aayo-whatt
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apdreadful · 3 days
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Anyone saying that Tommy is just convenient, he’s just a stepping stone, or Buck is confused and projecting his feelings for Eddie onto Tommy. Denial is not a river in Africa.
Buck didn’t just roll out of bed one morning and decide “I am declaring myself to be bisexual! And starting today, I’m looking for a guy”
Buck has ALWAYS been bisexual. So the whole time we have known Evan Buckley, he has been attracted to men.
However, it’s very likely had never really sat with and processed what to do about that attraction prior to meeting Tommy. Never acted on it prior to Tommy. Never made it as obvious to anyone before Tommy.
In retrospect, the signs were definitely there, before Tommy.
The catalyst for the change? Is Tommy.
He made the conscious decision to go see Tommy when he had no damn reason to. He wasn’t thinking of leaving the 118, he just wanted a reason to see him again. I don’t think Buck actively processing “I want to date this man” he just wanted “something” and Tommy was part of that something. But he had no damn idea how to get his brain wrapped around what exactly he was planning to do with those feelings “Huh, this is more…what do I do now?” Hence the basketball game.
And I don’t know if it was before Tommy came over or if seeing Tommy standing there in his apartment made those pieces finally click into place for Buck.
(Personally I’m leaning toward that “Well not at the same time” response to teaching him Muay Thai. Because there was no mistaking THAT look that Tommy gave him)
Because if you have ever been into someone and are even the tiniest bit queer, you saw that dance for exactly what it was.
The subtle signs, the shifting in atmosphere, the carefully chosen words, way their bodies started mirroring each other as they moved closer.
Tommy having more experience with this dance, started getting the inkling this may be going SOMEWHERE...So he took that chance and dropped the “Well probably not at the same time”with THAT look. That look was a whole sentence.
Now Buck’s awakening bisexuality, understood that look. And those butterflies starting flying and he stepped right up and said “I have been trying to get your attention”
He decided THIS man. Right here. Is the one that I want enough- choose to just lay it all out for.
Now for any baby bi THAT is a big damn leap. Because you think you know..But you don’t have the experience to know if you’re reading the signs right.
Brass Tacks my lovelies is..
Buck wanted Tommy..he wasn’t entirely sure for what. But he knew it was Tommy specifically.
And if you think he’s projecting his feelings about Eddie onto Tommy. Go back and look at that first episode Eddie shows up at the 118 in.
Buck wanted to be in that firefighter calendar, and he saw Eddie as competition to getting that which he wanted. Eddie was his competition. Did he recognize that he was competition because he also looked hot af?
Yep.
So when Tommy catches Bucks interest, once again Buck finds himself in competition against Eddie for the thing he wants, which this time is Tommy’s attention. And because Eddie is his best friend, and he knows Eddie is awesome. In Bucks head, Eddie is worthy competition for Tommy’s attention. It doesn’t matter that Eddie isn’t interested in Tommy the same way Buck is.
If it were Eddie that Buck really wanted, why tf hadn’t he asked Eddie to teach him Muay Thai? They’ve been friends for years. Why had Buck not been interested in the basketball game prior to Tommy’s appearance??
Buck is bi. And it was the hot dish casserole that is Tommy Kinard that made all those little “huh” moments click into “well that’s makes sense” place.
So stop playing at being flat earthers.
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noyasmashing · 1 day
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Your page is AMAZING. Can u please do a small fic on dumbification with a masochist Katsuki in a college AU?
(Gender Neutral Reader)
A Little Plot: Katsuki externally dislikes reader but reader knows Katsuki doesn’t actually hate them and in their dorms they carry out…activities. Kirishimas dorm is right next to theirs and he is having a blast(jerking off to the two having sex and in the end Kiri gets caught cause his moans get louder than Katsukis and readers combined).
Okay… so this is gunna have to be a small drabble until i have more time to write a realll juicy one about this. I have to reply now though bc i LOVE this idea (might be a multiple part series tbh)
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Picture entering Katsuki's dorm room only to find him dick-in hand while watching a video of you (probably sparring with a fellow classmate). To add to the shock, his shirt was raised and he was biting the hem to prevent any pre-cum from getting on it, exposing his abs.
He would attempt to maintain an air of anger, quickly adjusting his boxers. He would be fuming, threatening to explode you. However, the moment you coyly remark something along the lines of, "You're quite the pervert, Kats, I’m sure you won’t mind me watching," he hesitates.
He despises how you seem to be the only one with a strong impact on him. With damp, clumpy lashes, he would glance up at you. And for the first time, his usual fierce expression gone, replaced by flush ears and unsure, stuttering speech.
You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction as you gently trace your fingers along his muscular physique, causing him to tremble. All he desires is to be manhandled, and fucked dumb. Accustomed to being the dominant one, he wants needs to be roughed up, but his pride wouldn’t let him tell you that.
So slap him around a bit and scold him for his inappropriate behavior. Watch how rapidly he cums in response. Better yet, bring him to climax three times, while pulling on his spiky blonde hair.
He wouldn’t even realize how loud he was moaning, until it became quiet clear that someone else was listening…
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jongseongsnudes · 12 hours
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kiss me (part three)
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bff/fwb!jake. 1.4k words. ✨️smut✨️ + angst ft. lee heeseung. (part one) (part two)
“you’re so hot,” you hear him mumble into the kiss, his lips barely leaving yours as he does. his hands are everywhere, your waist, your ass, your thighs. the man was desperate for you and to be fair, you wanted him too. 
what started as a few flirty kisses with heeseung and a childish way to show jake that you in fact did not need him, turned into a full fledged heated make out session in the back of the cab, all the way into your apartment. it was the last thing you wanted yet all you wanted at the same time. someone to distract you from a particular someone else.
you were too occupied with heeseung’s lips to notice the familiar pair of men’s shoes by your door once you enter your home, ones that were surely not there when you left.
jake sim was in your apartment.
“hey- h- heeseung,” you manage to get his attention, your hand now gently pushing against his chest, “i um- i remember i had some plans tonight actually... rain check?”
you can see the disappointment wash over his face for a split second before smiling again, an understanding smile. and this was one of the many things you’ve always liked about him lee heeseung. that he respected you.
“yeah of course love,” he says while rubbing your lower back, “you need me to drop you off anywhere? it’s getting pretty late.”
“no my friend will pick me up. sorry hee, another time?”
“definitely,” he leans in to kiss you, short and sweet, “be careful okay.”
you begin to second guess your decision to abruptly kick heeseung out but the last thing you wanted was to be in the middle of a confrontation between the two best friends right now. besides, you needed to deal with jake. the thought of him currently somewhere in your apartment got you mad, especially after the fight you had earlier.
the house is quiet, the only light source coming from your living room’s television screen, exactly where you expected him to be with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. you can feel your chest heave to the sight of a topless jake, it took almost everything in you not to pull your panties aside and climb on that lap.
the things you’d do for jake sim...
“seriously? you’re just going to break into my apartment?”
your words are left unanswered as the man continues watching the screen ahead as if you weren’t standing right in front of him.
“whatever then. at least close the door on your way out when you get bored.”
you leave him be, no longer wanting to deal with the toxic situation that shouldn’t have been a situation in the first place. 
bits and pieces of your clothing and accessories are scattered behind as you make it to the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to sink into a warm bath and relax for the night. but of course the world always seems to have other plans for you.
“didn’t think you had it in you.”
sigh.
you don’t bother turning around to his newly arrived presence at the bathroom doorway, instead opting to continue slipping out of your undergarments as if he wasn’t even there, “i don’t want to talk to you right now jake.”
“so you let heeseung put his tongue down your throat but can’t even talk to me?”
you were quick to whip around this time, a frown dawning your face at how ridiculous he was being. the audacity this man had to even speak to you that way, in your home after ignoring you just a moment before.
“excuse me?” you were on the brink of exploding now, your hand balled up and ready to throw him out if you had to, “you broke into my house for what? to say these things to me?”
“well i’m not wrong! why bother fucking with me then go straight to heeseung?” he was now right up against you, his much taller frame towering over yours, gradually cornering you in against the vanity, “he’s my fucking best friend!”
you’ve seen jake angry numerous times before but never have you seen him like this. he is evidently fuming with eyes so dark, even his breathing was ragged.
“so that’s your problem? so you’re saying that i can fuck anyone else besides your best friend? easy. i’m sure sunghoon or jay would be down if i was to call them right now.”
if jake was considered stubborn, well, you were even worse. between you and the man, you were the one who always got your way. to be fair he did have a soft spot for you and you’ve used this to your advantage... when necessary. 
the bathroom then goes eerily quiet, the two of you though still visibly angry, are now much calmer than before. the heavy tension that filled the air just a moment before was now slowly turning into a different kind of tension.
the one you always felt when you both wanted each other.
“i’m tired jake... please just go-”
he leans in without hesitation, kissing you hard and cutting off your words. he even cups your cheeks, angling your face up to him so he can deepen the kiss and you let him. by now you weren’t even fighting him anymore, your entire body melting right into his hold.
as always.
you did’t want to admit it but this kiss with jake sim was the one you’ve been yearning for all night, even when kissing someone else.
you were just crazy for him.
“it’s not them, it’s you...” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he pulls away slightly, “you’re my problem.”
“what- what’s that supposed to mean?”
“i don’t want to see you with anyone else.”
before you could even respond, jake slowly moves down your body, his lips leaving behind a trail of soft kisses on your skin. you almost scream when he reaches your panties, the man’s mouth just hovering over it for a few moments. just to drive you insane.
“you’re perfect you know?” he coos, his hands now grasping onto your waist as yours grab onto the vanity for support.
“you say that sim... but then turn around and say the same to other girls...”
“they’re nothing baby. i’ve always wanted you.”
your breath hitches when he yanks your panties aside and lifts one of your legs over his shoulders, his lips immediately pressing onto your clit without warning, eager to have you. his wet tongue laps at your heat, tasting every part of you, causing your knees to almost buckle at the intense pleasure your whole body immediately feels from it.
you watch him through hooded eyes, the view of jake sim kneeling before you, one that always pushed you over the edge, that had you seeing white. that had you going completely feral.
but despite the moment, with his tongue deep in your folds and with your fingers knotted in his hair, you just couldn’t forget all that happened tonight.
what should’ve been a strictly no strings attached situation had become something it shouldn’t have. it all somehow spiralled out of control so quickly, like the flame in your heart that grew to the point of no return for the man.
and from what you’ve learned from romance movies your whole life... this was not going to end well. especially for you.
“ja- jake...” you barely manage to push him back by the shoulders, stopping the man from doing what those lips were literally born to do. he looks at you with concern as he stands to his feet, arms immediately holding your sides to pull you closer.
“what’s wrong baby?” 
you may regret this later but you knew it was the right thing to do... before you fall even further.
“i don’t want to do this anymore jake. lets... stop.”
end(????)
2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.
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allforhee · 2 days
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*ੈ✩ — 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌. (BLURB) | SIM JAEYUN
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୨୧ pairing — idol!jake x fem!reader
୨୧ synopsis — being jake's gf, you normally tag along everywhere. every concert, every fansign, every soundcheck. but with a heavy heart, jake has to attend another fansign without you. little does he know, you're in line with the other engenes ready to give him a little surprise.
୨୧ genre — fluff, cute coupley stuff, pouty jake
୨୧ warnings — trying not to show pda, suggestiveness, written on my phone so not proofread
୨୧ word count — 1,059 words (not proofread)
୨୧ author's note — hiya lovies! so sorry for the hiatus as i was going through a pretty bad of a burnout, and had little to no inspiration to write. but finally i had time to strike up a bit of inspiration to write this fic!! hope u all enjoy a bit of jake fluff :)
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“right this way, ma'am.”
as you were escorted into the venue, your heart was beating out of your chest. unlike every other concert or fansign you’d attend, you’d normally be wearing a staff name-tag with access to backstage. but here you were, hand clasping an engenebong, a vip lanyard on, clad in jake’s favorite colors.
in your other hand was a small sign that read “sim jaeyun, send a flying kiss!”
sitting alongside with the other engenes, your plan ready to be set in action.
a few days prior, jake had initially invited you to the fansign, but you declined with an excuse that you had uni homework due.
“darling, i have a fansign in a couple days, you’ll be there right?” jake asks, as he sits on your couch, snacking on popcorn as you cook dinner.
“this saturday right?” you ask, thinking of what plans you have then. but then you remember. “i don’t think i’ll make it yunie, my professor wants to have a quiz for extra marks. i’m sorry my love.” you confess, turning off the stove before coming over to him and giving him a pat on the head as he pouts.
“really? can’t you just miss a couple marks?” jake begs, still pouting.
“i’m so sorry ikeu, i’ll have to miss out on this one. i’ll make it up to you next time, okay?” you try to reason with him.
jake gives a slight nod as he opens his arms to invite you into a hug, which you accept.
that was a few days ago. you found out your professor had moved the quiz a day earlier, which meant you had the whole day for the fansign. as you were thinking of a way to tell jake, an idea popped into your head.
you picked up your phone and dialed jungwon’s number, as you explained to him your idea.
he managed to snag you a last minute vip fansign ticket, where you are now.
with you and jake’s relationship not out in the open yet, you weren’t expecting anyone to notice you, other than the members. you were more scared on how jake would react to your surprise, rather than the fans.
as your hands pick on your cuticles (by habit), the members came onto stage. with jungwon leading the way and immediately spotting you, followed by a couple others like jay, heeseung, and sunoo. jake on the other hand, seemed out of the moment, but he was trying his best to hide his sad facade.
sunghoon and ni-ki were trying to cheer him up, before sunghoon took a glance in the crowd and saw you in the second row, holding your sign. he gave a knowing smile, as he signaled to ni-ki to look at where he was looking. he immediately spotted you as well.
as the members gave their opening greetings and interacted with the fans for a while, they sat down as the fansign begun.
the fans started making their way, and as you were in the second row, you had to wait a while to talk to the members.
you had one minute with each member, and jake being the last member, you had enough time to calm your nerves.
as your queue number was called out, you sprayed the last bit of perfume, before walking over to the first member, jungwon.
he gave you a high five and a wink, signifying that your plan went really well, “noona! you made it! did my ticket work?” he asked.
“well i’m here so yes it worked! i’m so excited but anxious to see jake though.” you sighed.
jungwon gave a smile as he was signing your album, before the staff had to escort you to the next member.
heeseung gives you a smile as he laughs at what you’ve done.
“you know, jake has been whining on and on about you not coming to today’s signing.” he laughs.
you giggle at his statement, “has he? well i’m as excited to surprise him today.”
heeseung smiles at you before signing a little smiley face at your album, and the staff calls you to move to the next seat.
as you move through the next members, jay, sunoo, ni-ki, with similar responses, as you were finally arriving at sunghoon, you were scared jake was gonna notice you.
sunghoon saw you and immediately gave a smile, knowing your plan. although jake was sitting next to him, he was too enthralled with keeping his mood up to notice you.
as sunghoon was signing your album, you whispered, “hoon, what should i say to him?”
sunghoon smiled and said, “just be yourself, you’re his girlfriend after all.” as your time ran out and you stood up.
the second you sat on that seat, you opened your mouth and asked “so, do you like holding all those girls’ hands?” as you lift up your right hand.
jake lifted his head up from signing your album, eyes slowly widening as he realizes who’s sitting in front of him.
“darling? is that you?” he asked, his voice nervous.
“yes yunie,” you assure him as you take of your mask, “it’s me.”
he takes your hand in his, as he puts it on his cheek, feeling your touch.
you laugh at the cute interaction, smiling the whole time.
“but you said you wouldn’t make it?” jake asks, his pout disappearing and a light blush taking its place.
“i have my ways.” you hint at him.
as you two were holding hands as jake was signing a heart on your album, the staff signaled that time was up, and that you had to return to your seat.
jake held your hand one last time, before he tugged you and whispered in your ear, “meet me after this, okay?” he winks, before letting you go.
you smile to yourself on the way back to your seat, as a couple fangirls call out to you, as you hear some things like;
“girl did he hold your hand the entire session?”
“no way what did he whisper to you?”
“how are you not fainting right now? are you okay?”
you walk past them ask you put your mask on, and sit down lifting up your sign.
jake immediately spots you and your sign, before throwing a flying kiss. you really were his number one supporter.
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taglist; -
back to my masterlist?
© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.
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f0point5 · 1 day
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would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?
i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point
The way this came out…idk I hope you like it 😂 I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.
I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠
✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨
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Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?
Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.
He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.
Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.
And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.
He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.
It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.
Aren’t you, Max?
Isn’t he?
Is he?
So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.
He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.
He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.
You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.
No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.
Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.
If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.
You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-
“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.
Fuck. Fuck.
Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.
“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”
Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.
You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”
“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.
“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.
“Sure,”
Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?
He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.
You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.
“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”
He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.
Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?
“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”
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sweetestdesire · 2 days
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THE MORNING AFTER ALWAYS
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Trevor Zegras x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader wakes up next to Trevor Zegras for the first time.
It was late in the afternoon when Trevor opened his eyes, and for a moment, he wondered where he even was. There was the warmth of a body snuggled into his side, there was the feeling of legs tangled with his underneath the sheets, and there was numbness in his arm from a head resting on his tattoo-covered bicep the whole night. All things he never woke up to. And then he was horrified, sickened even. He couldn’t have possibly stayed the whole night after a one night stand, could he?
Trevor jumped, pulling away and hearing a soft groan before quiet grumbles were muttered under a breath, but he wasn’t too concerned about that right now. Who was this? And where were his clothes? And why did the room suddenly feel oddly familiar?
“Trevor, what the fuck?” Y/N grumbled, glaring at him through bleary, sleep hazed eyes. He blinked once, then twice, and then he tilted his head to the side in confusion. And soon, he grinned as he realized, and it was bright and ecstatic and just a little bit smug before he tugged her body against his quickly. A little too quickly since it caused her to huff and deliver a light smack to his chest in irritation.
“So, you stayed the whole night with me, huh?” Trevor wriggled his eyebrows, smirking at her as he pressed a gleeful kiss to her forehead. She pursed her lips as she stared up at him, and she wondered if it was too late now to back out of whatever this was she had with him.
“After you begged me to, yeah.” Y/N spat, and he clutched his chest dramatically, as though her words landed a harsh blow to his ego. In all realness, he was too giddy to care, but Trevor Zegras was not Trevor Zegras if not without at least some theatrics.
“I wasn’t the one drooling on your chest, now was I?” He asked, chuckling as her eyes narrowed at him. Her gaze was almost enough to pierce through him, and if he was being honest, he loved it. Gently, he reached, pinching her nose affectionately as his arm curled tighter around her. “See? I’m not so bad, after all.” He mumbled, and her expression softened as he let out a happy sigh, pulling the sheets up to cover them better.
“You’re a clingy sleeper, did you know that?”
“I distinctly remember my arm being the one to fall asleep because you were lying on it.”
“And then you rudely woke me up when you pulled away.” Y/N huffed, grumbling the word “asshole” under her breath as she shuffled out of his arms and shifted to turn with her back facing him.
Trevor pouted, inching closer until his chin rested on her shoulder, molding his body around hers as his finger prodded at her side repeatedly. Y/N smacked his hand away, but it did little to deter him, and his finger was back to poking at her hip not long after. “Did you have dreams about me, at least?”
“Trevor.” Y/N warned.
“Did I look hot?”
“No.”
Y/N could practically feel his pout deepen as his arms wrapped around her again, his face burying into the crook of her neck. But as he planted a soft kiss into her skin, she smiled to herself, bringing her hand to lay on his and rubbing over his knuckles with her thumb in slow circles. He pulled her so her back was flush against his chest, and for once, she leaned into him.
Trevor felt the same giddy feeling bubbling up again, the one he felt when he envisioned mornings together as she made pancakes, and steal each other’s last bites, and argue over washing dishes, and splashing water in each other’s faces. Because now, there were no more empty hookups and lonely mornings because now she stayed, and she snuggled into his chest, and she latched onto his arm, and she gave him a chance to live out all those daydreams.
“C’mon, I was a little hot, right?” Trevor whined, digging his nose further into her neck. And she wanted to yell at him for ruining her sleep, but there was nothing but fondness blooming at the way he held her near, bodies pressed so closely together, she almost didn’t know where one ended and where the other began.
“Nope, not even a little.” Y/N teased, a grin spreading on her face as he sulked against her skin. Her fingers laced with his, slowly entwining as her eyes open, and maybe she could get used to mornings like this, even if it was technically noon by now.
“We’re dating now, you know.” Trevor grumbled. “So that means you have to be nice to me. It’s in the rule book.”
“I have to humble you.” Y/N corrected, giggling lightly. “And since when do you ever follow rules?”
“Since I’m the one who makes them.” He chuckled, and then she was being turned around, being shifted to lay on her back as Trevor hovered over her, biting her cheek playfully. She couldn’t help but squeal, laughing as she tried to shove him off, and there was warmth in his chest, eyes bright and heart full as he stared down at her while the rays of sunlight kissed her skin.
Trevor thought that after this, if he had to spend even a single morning without Y/N by his side, it was a morning wasted and even if the clock ticked one in the afternoon, and the birds were no longer chirping, and it was a tad bit late to be making pancakes, this was probably still the best morning he’d ever spent.
“I was promised an excellent breakfast last night.” Y/N reminded him. Her hand reached to cup his cheek, thumb tracing over the soft flesh gently, and he followed the touch like a moth did a flame.
Leaning down, Trevor pressed a delicate peck to her lips, then another, and then another and soon, it deepened to a kiss, both of their eyes fluttering shut as her arms wrapped around his neck. Hesitantly, he pulled away, and she wondered to herself if his eyes had always been such a vibrant shade of blue.
“Only the best for you.” Trevor winked, and then he dipped back down, lips pressing themselves against hers once more.
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thebestofoneshots · 2 days
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.7 K Warnings: ANGST! Use of the unforgivables, bIood, major and minor character dеath, major sad moments, mental breakdowns, taking characters to their breaking point, pain, griеf… I’m really sorry. Prompt: What happens when you hear something dreadful happening, will you stand up for what's right? Will you stay quiet for the greater good? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp
A/N: This chapter is getting shadowbanned no matter what I change so please like, reblog and comment so it does not go under the radar.
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Chapter 44: No One But You 
A hand above the water An angel reachin' for the sky Is it raining in Heaven? Do you want us to cry?
Where the hell is the alcohol in this party? You wondered as you stepped out of the room, dealing with Arkalis and Evan was more than enough for the rest of the night. If only you could find a corner, pull out a book and focus on that without being bothered by anything or anyone else, you’d be satisfied. Of course, that could not be the case, could it? 
“Well look who’s here?” Barty said with a smile as he blocked your path. 
“Oh, Barty!” you said as you tilted your head. “You should probably go look for Evan, he seemed like he needed… a friend.” 
Barty’s eyes seemed to burn when you spoke, but you stood your ground, even as he approached you with ferocity. He might be as tall as you were, even if younger, and he might have been able to overpower you in the past, but he was not about to make a scene in the middle of the party, he wasn’t dumb, he had never been. And clearly, he wasn’t important enough for the deatheater clique to be at the private dinner, he didn’t need unwanted attention. 
“If you did something to him again…” he said, voice low and threatening.
You blinked calmly at him, “Barty… in this party, you should be careful with the things that come out of your mouth.” He grabbed onto your wrist, anger clearly seething from him. “I didn’t touch him,” you said as you looked down at his hand and then back at his face, “I’d suggest you’d have the decency of doing the same.” 
Then you felt a hand on your shoulder, Barty finally let go of his hold on you but stayed in his place, glaring now at the person standing behind you. 
“And I would suggest you turn the fuck away before I hex you again. Remember where you are Crouch. This might be Arkalis’ dinner, but my father was the one to invite Tom here.” 
Barty gave you another look of hatred and then stormed off. You sighed and turned back to look at Regulus. 
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, eyebrows softly knit in concern.
“No,” you said as you shook your head and moved your hand a little bit, it was the same arm Evan had latched onto you earlier, but frankly, after having fallen from your broom, punched by bludgers, dragged by water spirits and scratched by werewolves, this felt like nothing. “Is there Firewhiskey here?”
“Firewhiskey?” Regulus asked in disbelief. “You want to drink?” 
“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never sneaked out Firewhiskey from your father’s stash.” Regulus gave you a look in return that was answer enough. “So, you’ve never drunk?” 
He shook his head and you laughed at that, “Such a good boy,” you teased. In response, Regulus pushed you to the side, which only made you laugh a little more. “Let’s find some,” you said with a smile, Regulus tilted his head to the side disapprovingly. 
“It’s a terrible idea to do it here,” he responded. 
“Come on, Reg, there’s no way you want to see whatever the hell those people consider to be a show, do you?” 
Regulus averted your gaze, and you narrowed your eyes at him. Does he know something…
A glass of cold water over your dress diverted your thoughts. “Oh, sorry,” the girl said, she had a streak of white hair pulled back behind her ears and looked far from being sorry. 
Your dress was black, so whatever she had poured, certainly didn’t ruin the look, even if it was fucking freezing you now, “Whatever, I’ll just use a drying spell,” you said as you pulled your wand out and waved it over your dress. 
“You’re Silas’ daughter, aren’t you? You were sitting next to Lucius at the dinner.” 
You turned to her with a small frown, she was the girl talking to Barty earlier, the one that looked like Sirius and Regulus. You extended your hand politely, “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.” 
She seemed irritated at your lack of recognition. “This is my cousin Narcissa, Cygnus’ daughter,” Reggie said, introducing her to you.  
Cygnus’ daughter… Where had you heard that name? Right, Andromeda’s sister, you thought. You hadn’t spoken much to Andromeda Tonks, though Sirius and Remus had shown you some of her letters. As far as you knew, she had been kicked out of the family in the same way Sirius had, and her sisters had done nothing to help them. But then again, Regulus hadn’t helped Sirius either and you didn’t hate him for that. 
“Nice to meet you,” you added, she gave you a look before actually shaking your hand. 
“You’re dating Sirius,” she added, her tone making it clear that she looked down on you for it. 
“Cissy,” Regulus said in a warning tone. 
“I am, he’s delightful, you should know since you grew up together.” 
She scoffed. “Sirius is a disaster. He would always spark chaos and make stupid pranks on the parties, I’m glad he’s not invited anymore. He wears that awful leather jacket all the time, pretending to be a muggle or whatever and he’s insufferably loud.” 
“All of which I find absolutely charming,” you replied with a nonchalant smile, “You do not?” 
Cissy, as Regulus called her, scoffed again. “Just stay away from Lucius,” she added before leaving you and Regulus behind in favour of talking with someone else, her long hair flipping behind her in a rather majestic way that you would have praised had she not been a total bitch to Sirius. It must be in their genes, you thought, the Blacks have amazing hair.
You turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “The hell was that about?” 
“Lucius is her fiancé, she must have seen you talking to him at the dinner,” Regulus said. “You… looked very interested in whatever he was telling you.” 
“Oh, that?” You asked with a smile that turned into a smirk, “I was trying to piss Evan off.” 
“I figured.” 
“Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an offence.” Regulus raised his eyebrows at you and you gasped in disbelief. Then you spotted someone serving themselves a drink over in the far corner, it was the bar. You smirked, “Come on Reg, I’ll teach you how to drink.” 
“I don’t need to–” 
“Just come,” you added and pulled him along with you, you managed to convince the house elf there to give you a half-empty bottle of Fire Whiskey after telling them Arkalis had asked you to take them to him and pulled Reggie along towards a balcony. 
“It’s cold,” he said as the two of you stepped out, you could see the puff of condensed air blowing from his mouth as he spoke. 
“This’ll warm you up,” you said as you offered him the bottle. He gave you an exasperated look that was an awful lot like Sirius’ but took the bottle in his hands anyway, taking a small sip and scrunching up his face as he felt the bitter taste. Then he coughed and covered his mouth with his arm as he returned the bottle to you with a disgusted frown, you were laughing so much it took you a second to lean closer to him and place your hand on his back. “You all right?” 
“No wonder they call it Firewhiskey,” he said as he managed to catch his breath. You laughed again, still rubbing your hand over his back, he shook his head as he stood straight. He was a deal taller than you now, it hadn’t quite settled back in school, but it was evident now. “Why would you even drink it?” 
“Do you not feel warmer?” you asked as with a raised eyebrow, he seemed to think about it for a second. You were now taking your own sip of the bottle. 
“A warming spell would for sure do the trick.” 
You sighed and leaned over to look at the sky, you could see Sirius’ star up there, shiny and beautiful, just like him. Walburga and Orion might have been awful, but they definitely had a good eye for picking out names, even if they were just copying those of the stars. 
“Yeah, but it would take away the fun,” you said, head still tilted up and looking at the sky. You heard a few whispers from the inside, and you leaned your head over the window, there were people crowding a certain area of the room. Regulus stepped in between you and the window. 
“How’s school going?” 
You gave him a look, that was a stupid question. 
“I mean, I saw you at the Slug Party, you’ve been doing good at potions, haven’t you?” he pressed. 
“Haven’t I?” you asked with a frown, allowing your gaze to turn back to him. “It’s all thanks to my partner, he’s really good?” 
“Sirius?” Regulus asked, he had never heard of his brother being remarkably good at potions. 
“What? No, my potions partner, Remus.” 
“Ah… of course,” he said, now he had heard how good his brother’s best friend was. He was even a prefect. 
“But I’m shit at transfiguration,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t think Minnie and Horace are friends enough to discuss such things, though.” 
“I could teach you,” he offered. 
“Thanks, but I’ve already got a tutor.” You tilted your head to the side to try and see inside and then he moved, blocking your line of sight again. “Regulus?” 
“Yeah?” he asked, playing dumb. 
“You know what’s happening there, don’t you?” 
He swallowed thickly, “Nothing you should be concerned about, it’s adult stuff.” You shook your head as that and motioned to move inside but he stopped you again. “Please!” He sounded desperate. “Let’s stay here, and drink a bit more, I’m… I’m not looking forward to seeing my parents again.” 
You sighed, you knew how delicate it was for both Regulus and Sirius to deal with Walburga and Orion, and perhaps you shouldn’t have listened, you should have followed your instinct and walked inside, but there was something about the pleading expression Regulus had made that convinced you. You huffed out a breath and turned back to him. “How’s school for you? Messing with Severus didn’t put you on the spot, did it?” 
Regulus shook his head and carefully moved to the side, pulling his wand from his pocket and secretly casting a spell towards the doors so the sounds from the inside wouldn’t filter to the outside. You were looking at his face, so determined to figure out his emotions that you failed to notice what he was doing.   
“Not at all,” he responded. “Severus thinks it was all your fault.” 
You pouted at that, “How could it even be my fault, he’s the one that ate the snacks, I didn’t even offer them to him.” 
Regulus laughed at that, “So you had nothing to do? No emotional manipulation involved?” 
“What do you take me for? A housemate?” 
“Haven’t you been saying you ‘missed the whole indoctrination’ part by getting to Hogwarts so late?” 
“Doesn’t change the fact the snakes can be very manipulative. You know the muggles think they’re to blame for losing paradise.” 
Regulus huffed as he shook his head, he was just proving your point right then and there, “Well, I’ve never met a snake with ‘Vixen’ as a nickname.” 
“You know about that?” you asked in disbelief. “How do you even know about that?” 
“The entire school knows about that! Potter isn’t exactly subtle when he calls you. To be honest, I thought he was pissed the first time I heard it, and then I was surprised you weren’t insulted by it.” 
“It’s an inside joke.” 
“I could tell,” he responded and then smirked, almost imperceptibly, “I think it fits.” 
“Ass,” you said with a laugh and pushed him lightly. He laughed along with you. 
Talking with Regulus was fun, he told you more about the Slytherin common room, he mentioned seeing the giant squid through their window once when he was in his second year studying for a quiz late at night, and he told you about the time he had done the quidditch trials, back when Dorcas was still in the team. He asked you about the race, and you told him that’s when you and Sirius got together. 
You also told him about some of the fun things you had done with the boys, like picnics near the lake and even sneaking out at night to get books from the forbidden section. He asked you to teach him the disillusionment charm one day, and you promised you would. 
While the rest of his family was a piece of work, you thought Regulus had come out as nice as Sirius, even if a little more stuck up. You didn’t mind though, it was part of his own charm. He’d make a great brother-in-law…
“And then Solacis added the last ingredient of the potion, and it blew up on their faces…” he told you with a smile, mimicking the explosion with his own hands. The alcohol had warmed his cheeks and made him a lot more expressive by now. You laughed along with him. 
“Yeah? And what did Slughorn do?” 
“Nothing, he was being distracted by Nox so they wouldn’t fail the both of us,” he explained. “Nox added dragon breath to his potion and it clogged the entire classroom with purple smoke.” 
“For real?” 
He nodded excitedly, it was nice to see Regulus more relaxed, “Nox thought it was amazing and tried switching the ingredients around, he now knows how to make smoke of almost any colour, we’ve used it on parties so many times since then.” 
“I had no idea Nox was that into potions…” 
“Oh, he loves them! Slughorn doesn’t like him too much though, he’s always doing his own experiments in the back of the classroom instead of focusing on the class, and often ends up changing the potions around and–” a harrowing scream cut through his words. 
Your head snapped towards the inside and Regulus blinked a couple of times. His spell! It had worn out. 
But I’m not that drunk, he thought, he was certainly having fun, but that was just a consequence of hanging out with you.
“What the hell was that?” you asked as you looked inside, but he stood in between you and the door in a second.
You gave Regulus a stern look but he shook his head really fast, he looked nervous, like a kid that had done something terrible and didn’t want his parents to find out. 
“Regulus,” you said as you tried to look over his shoulder, but he moved to block your sight again. “Regulus, what’s going on?” 
“Nothing. You… you don’t want to know, just trust me.” It was more a plea than anything else. 
You took a step back, “Have you been distracting me?”  
Regulus swallowed and then nodded, “I’m sorry.” 
“Why?” You asked, voice dry. 
“I don’t want you to see what’s happening in there.” 
“And…” 
“Your mum might have implied I’d be better this way as well.” 
You nodded, you weren’t angry at Regulus, at this point you understood why he did most of the things he did, and you knew whatever he was doing now, it was because he wanted to protect you from his parents and whatever it was they were doing. 
“Will you tell me what’s happening inside?” 
“Will you promise not to enter if I do?” 
You sighed, “You know I cannot do that, Reg.” 
“It’s dangerous.” 
“Yeah?! For me or for the person screaming?” 
“If you do anything reckless–” 
You squared your shoulders, determined. “Regulus, let me in.” 
He didn’t move. You tried to move to the side and he moved along with you, effectively blocking your way again, you scoffed, slightly exasperated. 
“Regulus, I–” You were interrupted by another harrowing screaming, and then a silence so eerie it chilled your very bones. You looked at him, straight in the eyes, his eyes were red-rimmed and shiny, you were about to ask him what the hell was going on when a cheer erupted from the inside. All of the wizards were clapping, as if whatever had happened was cause for celebration. 
Regulus winced at that which only made you worry more about what was happening inside. 
“You don’t need to see that, trust me,” he repeated. Thunder came from above and then a smokey green skull appeared in the sky. There was a snake protruding from its mouth, slowly swirling around the skull. You swallowed, you knew exactly what that was, Seraphina had shown you pictures, and she had told you that one of the reasons they’d cast that spell was because… they had just murdered a muggle. 
You swallowed thickly, the scream, the silence, the cheering. It all made sense now. They had been tоrturing someone and you had been distracted, you weren’t even given the chance to stop it. But then again, could you have stopped it? One person –nay, a 6th year– against an entire army of deatheaters, you might have been a good duelist, but you weren’t narcissistic enough to believe you could take them all down by yourself
Perhaps it really was better to be out here, avoiding the reality that was inside and hanging out with the one person in this entire party that you’d actually want to talk to. You didn’t appreciate being tricked, you hated that Regulus had decided to keep you in the dark, but at the same time, you were thankful. He had spared you from having to witness whatever horrors were being committed inside. 
You were just a kid, why was it your responsibility to stop it? Why was it your war to fight? It was fucking unfair. 
“Trust me,” Regulus said, “stay here, it’s better this way.” 
You swallowed, and there was another scream, you shut your eyes and turned your gaze to the side, you could feel tears prickling in your eyes. 
“It’s not your fault, you won’t be able to do anything, even if you witness it.” 
You turned back to look at him, your teeth pressed so hard against each other it hurt, “They’re kiIling muggles,” you whispered. 
Regulus sighed, his eyes were just as glassy as yours, “We can’t do anything about it.” 
You huffed and looked at nowhere in particular. There was another scream, and then another one, and then there was silence and cheers. You sank down to the floor, the snake in the sky was still crawling around. Your breath was slow and controlled as if you were trying to keep it together. The first scream, you couldn’t have blamed yourself for it. The first one out? You had no idea. But this one? 
You already knew what was happening and chose to stay outside with Regulus. You chose to ignore it and an innocent had diеd. Were you any different from your father now? He had sacrificed Sirius and Regulus for his political means –and he hadn’t even gotten them kiIled– and now you were letting those innocent people diе. 
For what? To be the perfect daughter? To play the part they asked you to play and then pretend like nothing had happened? To write a letter to Nightshade and Dumbledore telling them everything that had happened tonight and becoming a valuable asset? A spy? Was that what you wanted to be? Was that what you were meant to do? Was it worth it to let all these people diе, in order to win the war in the future? Were lives exchangeable like that? One life for a hundred, does that… make it worth it? 
There was another harrowing scream and then silence and then more cheers. You dug your head on your knees. 
You
Were
Heinous
As much as you considered your father to be.
Was stopping a war, winning a war, any different from the way he coveted power? Was it any difference in doing things for the greater good to doing things for power if the casualties were exactly the same? People were dying, and you were too much of a coward to do anything about it. Hiding behind a mask of righteousness and pretending it was all for the greater good –It was, but it didn’t feel right.
Sacrificing innocents was never okay, not even for the greater good, and yet… you were here, crouching on the floor, and wishing you were somewhere else, wishing you hadn’t heard that first scream, and that Regulus was still telling you about Nox and how good he was in potions and so on. You wanted to feel like things were normal, like there wasn’t a war; like you were a normal teen, not one being trained to be a soldier, a spy, a warrior.  
Was it selfish to wish for all of this to go away? To wish to be elsewhere? Were you selfish? And if you were then, for what? 
For letting innocents diе or for wishing you were ignorant about it? 
There it was, the eerie silence again. And then a wicked laugh. “Would you look at that? the little witch has claws?” 
The what she said?
 You turned your head to Regulus and the look he gave you in return made you instantly know that whatever was going on inside was as much of a surprise to him as it was to you. 
“Reg wha– What does she mean by witch?” 
“I–” he stuttered and turned to look back, there wasn’t much he could see, except for Bella’s black hair bouncing around as she said something else. “I’m not sure but–” 
“Filthy mudblood!” the same voice roared and then there were screams. 
But there was something about those screams, they were different from the rest… And not because it was a witch but because… you gasped when the realisation hit you –you knew that person.
“Nina,” you whispered. 
“What?” Regulus asked, confused. 
“That’s Nina!” you repeated as you stood up and tried to get inside. 
Regulus squared his shoulders to block your path, and then gently placed his hand on your arm, “There’s nothing you can do, forget it.” 
“They have kilIed muggles, Regulus. What’s stopping them from doing the same thing to her?” 
Regulus shook his head, “You cannot intervene, even if you know her.” 
“Even if I– Regulus, Nina’s my friend! Like you, like James! I would intervene for you, even if it did nothing.” 
“It would be stupid,” he replied, there were tears in his eyes, you could tell his mental struggle ran as deep as yours.  
“If it were me, would you just wait and let me diе?” 
Regulus closed his mouth, looking down while not being able to give you an answer. You weren’t sure you wanted to hear it either way. 
“Let me through, please.” 
“I wouldn’t let you diе,” he said, panic filling his voice, he felt like he had to reassure you, he wasn’t the evil one here, he just wanted to protect you. “But I’ve known you for years, you’re my brother’s girlfriend, it’s different,” his voice was filled with panic. 
“It’s not different for me,” you said as you shook your head, a sombre tone adorning your words. 
“I can’t let you go in,” he replied, his voice breaking towards the end. “I’m sorry.” 
You pulled him into a hug, you could sense him relax into your hug the second you did. She understands, he thought. 
 “I’m sorry too,” you whispered with a sad smile, he didn’t have enough time to react, “Petrificus totalus.” 
You caught him as he fell, his entire body leaning onto yours as you tried to hold him from hitting the ground. Regulus was a lot heavier than he looked but you managed to open the door again and drag him back inside. You smiled awkwardly at the person who spotted the two of you and lifted the bottle as an excuse. If they thought Reggie was passed out drunk, they wouldn’t think you’d charmed him to get in. The person nodded as if completely understanding and you dragged Reggie to a chair. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, accommodating him to look asleep. 
And then you walked as fast as you could towards her screams. 
It took all your strength not to break down at the sight, there were people –not people, their bodies– on the floor. They weren’t covered with bIood or anything like that, it wasn’t gory, it was just… harrowing. At least 7 of them, all of them on the floor, horrified expressions on their faces. They probably had no idea why they were there and had been hexed and tоrtured till the light escaped his eyes.
The scene enraptured you so much the screams in the background almost faded out, especially when you saw someone you instantly recognized. The lady at Kings Cross, the one that had hugged Nina, she was there too, you sobbed. You had allowed that to happen, you had allowed them to kilI Nina’s mum because you were too scared to intervene. 
“Crucio!” you heard the woman scream again. 
You turned your face away from them and towards the turmoil, there were many people crowding around her and Nina, so many that you could barely see the top of her blonde hair, and the only reason you knew Nina was still there was because of her screams. You spotted Tom, Arkalis and the man you now knew as Rodolphus Lestrange all sitting and chatting at a faraway table as if none of it was happening. Tom would often turn to see what was going on, smile and then go back to the conversation with a pleased expression.  
You shuddered and tried to find a way through the people. You had to push a few wizards around and got an angry elbow shoved in the rib at some point but you pressed on. Eventually, you reached the edge of the circle, and you had to hold back the tears threatening to spill out as your young friend squirmed, her long hair sprawled all over the floor, and tears in her eyes. She had her mouth determinedly closed and her brows furrowed, she was trying to resist screaming again, all to avoid giving the woman the satisfaction. 
“I’ll find a way to help you,” you mumbled as you looked around for possible solutions. If you had had more time perhaps you could have used a mist bomb to create a commotion, if you had more time to think of a solution, perhaps you would have burned the curtains down with incendio or caused some other kind of distraction to drive people away from Nina and sneak her out. But you had no time, and your mind was filled with the stress of seeing poor Nina on the floor, with that heart-wrenching expression on her face, and the soft whimpers that she couldn’t help but let out as she continued holding her cries and the woman with curly hair twisted her wand to inflict more pain. 
If you had acted earlier, if you hadn’t let fear and cowardice drive you away from the incident, perhaps things wouldn’t have ended up the way they had, but you had been selfish, and you were now facing the consequences of your own decisions, them being mainly the mental strain and the stupidity of the action you were about to commit. 
“CRUCIO!” the woman shrieked again. “Come on luv, don’t be shy, we want to hear your cries.” 
She twisted her wand and Nina let out an agonising cry. This can’t continue, she’s not gonna last. 
“Come on little mudblood, cry louder!” the woman said, enjoying herself so much you felt like you wanted to puke. “Entertain us!”
You stepped forward, “Stop!” You shouted. 
The woman turned to you and, surprised you had spoken and twisted her wand again, Nina cried, but the moment she spotted you, there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. 
You raised your wand at her, “I said STOP!” 
“Silas’ daughter?” she asked, clearly diverted. “Thought you were snogging my little cousin Regulus somewhere in a corner.” 
You held her gaze, “Last warning,” you added. 
She laughed haughtily in return, “You think you could do anything to me? What are you? A 4th year?”
You were so focused on the woman and Nina, that you weren’t paying attention to the things surrounding you, at least you had gotten her attention enough to have her stop torturing Nina, who was now struggling to catch her breath. 
In the far corner, Orion and Tom had turned to look at the scene with a perturbing interest, as if they wanted to see the bIoodshed that your stupid disobedience would cause. Evan had gripped onto Barty’s forearm and pulled him away from the circle and both of your parents were rushing towards you as fast as you could, but the crowd, which seemed just as interested in the situation, was making it harder for them to reach you. 
“None of your fucking business,” you replied. She turned her wand back to Nina and you stepped in her way in two long strides, she laughed again. 
“You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you? There’s no way a Slytherin would be so recklessly stupid.” 
“Let her go,” you said sternly. “She’s a witch, just like you.” 
The woman laughed again. “She’s as much of a witch as the rest of them,” she said with a smile and pointed at the pile of bodies behind her, “Muggle-borns are abominations that shouldn’t exist. So weak they need real wizards to defend them, don’t they, Luv?” She said the last bit looking at Nina, she was still on the ground, eyes shiny with unshed tears but she held her head high. 
“I’m only making things even,” you replied, “do you really feel superior when you need thirty-plus wizards for torturing a 14-year-old?” 
The woman scoffed, “Do you even know who you’re talking to?” 
“No, but I bet I can guess,” you replied. “Dark curly hair, pretty but dеadly, a little crazy –I assume due to inbreeding– and you were sitting next to Rodolphus, which makes you one of Cygnus’ daughters. I met Narcissa today, and you’re definitely not Andromeda, which leaves out… Saiph? No wait, wrong star, it’s Bella, isn’t it?” 
She gave you a deranged smile, “Bellatrix.”
“Yeah, whatever,” you responded. “Now let’s leave this nonsense behind, and–” 
“Crucio,” she said pointing her wand behind you, Nina cried again. 
“Stop!” you shrieked. “Confringo!”
Bella barely managed to stop your spell and turned to you with rage, “Can someone take care of her?” she asked to no one in particular. Suddenly there were several wands pointing your way, but no one cast a spell. No one was brave enough to attack Silas’ daughter directly. 
Bella smiled and pointed her wand towards you, “Expelliarmus,” she said with a smile, your wand left your hand faster than you could react. 
She gave you a wicked grin as she pointed her wand at Nina again. She looked like she couldn’t take another moment of it, and you were running out of ideas. “Stop! I have a better prey for you.” 
Your father said your name sternly as if he could read your thoughts. 
You ignored it completely, “Why bother with a muggle-born when you could be torturing someone who’s mixed-race.” 
Your father screamed your name again, but Bella seemed interested enough to lower her wand and look at you, she wanted to know whose life you’d propose instead of Nina’s. 
“A mixed-race you said? Whoever could that be?” 
“Me!” you said and took a short breath, “I’m part-fairy.” Several gasps echoed in the room followed by whispers of the crowd.
“She’s lying!” your father spat.
“I am not!” You added quickly. 
“She’s trying to buy time.” 
“I can prove it!” you said desperately. “Use diffindo,” you told one of the people next to you. 
“Do not dare to touch my daughter!” your father roared. 
You looked around, trying to find Barty or Evan, since you knew neither of them would think twice before hurting you, but they were nowhere to be seen. Worst time to be fucking absent, you thought. No one dared to do it. 
“Fine then, bunch of cowards,” you said looking around before bringing your arm to your mouth. You had never done this, but you had practised half transfigurations, you focused all your energy on your mouth and managed to turn your canines into Vixen’s, and then you bit onto your skin and dragged your arm, slicing through it, you didn’t even wince. 
“That proves nothing,” Your father said. He was still trying to reach where you were.
“No, it doesn’t,” you responded. You could feel the metallic taste of your bIood in your mouth, you wondered if you looked as deranged as Bella did now. “But this will,” you said and focused your gaze on the cut you’d made, “Revelio.” 
A single drop of bIood fell from your arm, everyone witnessed it change colour and clash onto the ground in a shiny, silver drop. There was another collective gasp. Bellatrix cackled and your father looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite pinpoint, a mix of desperation, rage and disappointment.
“Well, well, well,” a voice boomed from the back of the room, “what an interesting little plot twist.” The crowd parted to allow the dark lord to walk towards the centre of the room, he seemed pleasantly entertained. “Silas,” he said as he turned to your dad calmly. “Anything you care to explain?” 
You turned to your father, being thankful that everyone’s attention had turned the other way, and looking for someone distracted enough for you to do your next move. 
Your father was about to say something but was quickly interrupted by your mother, “He didn’t know! I lied to him.” 
Your head snapped back towards them, Why is she–? 
“Is that true? Silas?” 
Your father stood straighter, looking indifferent. “I had no idea,” he lied blatantly, “I wouldn’t be married if I did.”
“That’s a bunch of bullshit–” 
“Silence child,” you were interrupted by the dark lord who was staring at your dad with interest, he hadn’t said the words to the spell, but your tongue was tied, and you couldn’t emit a word anymore either, “the adults are talking.” 
You moved towards them when you realised you wouldn’t be able to speak. “Incarcerus,” Tom’s voice boomed and a set of ropes appeared from thin air, binding you to the spot you were currently on. His spell was much stronger than Evan’s had been, it was as if the more you moved the more the ropes tightened around your arms, digging into your skin sharply. Tom turned to your mother. “Elaborate.” 
“I met him, I knew he wouldn’t like me if he knew of my heritage so I lied and hid it from him.” 
“Well, I find this is the perfect little set-up for you to prove your loyalty,” Tom said with a simple smile. “Torture her.” 
What? You thought, head snapping towards your mother sharply, forgetting about the ropes entirely. 
Your mother and father exchanged a look, your mom nodded, almost imperceptibly, and then your father raised his wand against her, “Crucio.” 
There was a wicked laugh from Bellatrix as your mother sank to the ground and started screaming. You stared at the scene as if petrified. If there was something you had never doubted in the past, it was the love your parents had for each other. How could he– how was it even…
You turned back to the ropes and started to desperately fight against them. When you realised it wasn’t working you went for plan B, you turned into Vixen and jumped as fast as possible, snatching a random wizard’s wand from their hands as you turned back. 
Of all the terrible ideas you’d had today, this might have been the worst. You barely had enough control over the spell with your own wand, but you had to do something. You took a deep breath and pointed your wand at Bellatrix, “Pestis Incendium.” 
A giant fire exploded out of the tip of the wand you had stolen, prompting the people around you to step back several metres as the fire turned into a massive Chimera. Fiendfyre was a dark and dangerous spell, and you had only practised it in a controlled environment with Nightshade watching your back. But the Chimera you had formed now was bigger and angrier than anything you’d ever created, she was dеadly. The massive winged lion-goat was burning everything in its way as people ran to the sides and attempted to apparate the hell away from the room. 
But Evan’s house was charmed against apparitions, a few of them were caught in the fire as they attempted to run, others tried to fight against it, with water spells, but they seemed to do nothing against the angry beast you’d created. The heat quickly filled the room, smoke from burning things wafting through the air and making it harder to see. You searched for your mother, but you couldn’t spot her at all, so you turned back to Nina who was looking at you with an awed struck expression. You picked up a wand from the floor and handed it over to her before helping her up and casting a disillusionment charm around the two of you. 
“We need to get out,” you whispered, as you grabbed onto her hand and pulled her along with you. You sped through the running crowds as the curtains and furniture started to catch on fire and remembered you had left Regulus petrified. 
You ran towards him, pulling Nina alongside you and finding him still unconscious in the place you’d left him. “Finite Incantatem!” you said and Regulus opened his eyes hastily. He looked around confused and opened his eyes wide when he spotted the giant Chimera behind you, being even more confused when it completely ignored him and turned to the other side. You grabbed onto his arm, leaving traces of bIood over his white shirt, “Get out!” 
“What?” he asked, confused. 
“I won’t be able to control it for much longer, get out!” you repeated and pushed him towards the window before you pulled Nina to the side again. 
She used her wand and started hexing people as you sped through the crowd and toward the window behind the snack area. If you could reach the hedge maze, you’d have enough time to think of a better way to get the hell away from there. 
Finally, you spotted your mum again, she was right in front of the Chimera, using relashio in an attempt to slow her down. You raised your want towards your fiendfyre to drag it away from her but there was a spell cast in your direction. 
“Stupefy!” Bellatrix said as you fell to the ground, you lost control over the Chimera completely and the beast used one of its paws to crush your mother. You could hear your father’s scream ringing in your ears alongside yours, followed by a sob as tears welled up in your eyes. Bellatrix smiled, “Well, well, well, would you look at that, one little fae gone, and one to go,” she said as she pointed her wand towards you. 
You were on the floor, still trying to get a grasp of the situation and attempting to gain control over the Chimera again but it was pointless, she was doing whatever she wanted. Bellatrix smiled and raised her wand towards you, “Avada–” 
“Crucio,” Nina shrieked next to you, and Bellatrix instantly fell to the ground, with a cry. Nina’s curse was so strong that the woman continued to scream madly as she pulled onto her hair. “CRUCIO!” Nina repeated. You looked at her in amazement and she gave you a half smile, fear hidden behind her eyes. “She’s not going to touch you ever again,” she reassured and extended her hand your way, you took it and she helped you up. “Ferrum Incarcerus,” she said and suddenly a set of chains bound Bellatrix Lestrange, “Flagrante,” she said next and the woman started to cry in pain as the chains started to heat up and burn. “Call me a Mudblood again, you bitch!” Nina spat, and you recast the disillusionment charm around the both of you. 
Clutching to each other you walked all the way to the snack table “Bombarda!” you shouted, the window blew into pieces, and your Chimera went wild, growing wider and wider. You looked back once more, Bellatrix was still crying over the chains. There was a tall man, Cygnus, you assumed, trying to help her out of them, but Nina’s spell was strong and whatever he was doing wasn’t working properly. 
You spotted your father clutching the burned remnants of your mom and you stared at the scene almost petrified. You had done that, you had murdered her. 
Nina looked at you with tears in her eyes and decided to avoid staring at the pile where she knew her mother’s body would be, focusing on you, and on getting the hell away from that damned hellhole you’d ended up in. 
“Come on,” she pulled onto your arm. “We have to go, come on!” 
“That–” you said, still looking, the Chimera was bigger now, angrier. “They’re gone.” 
“I know,” she said somberly, but then the urgency came back to her, “Come on, they’d want us to get out!” she added as she pulled onto your arm again, this time much stronger, you didn’t move at all. “Hey, look at me!” she added and grabbed your head in between her hands to force you to look at her, Nina might have been younger, but she seemed so much wiser than you at that moment. “This is awful. Things are awful, and it’s unfair. But two things are true: It was not your fault, and we need to get out.” 
You tilted your head to the side, she didn’t know, she didn’t know you had ignored her mother’s cries. Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, what a terrible person you were. “Okay,” you managed to say and allowed Nina to pull you alongside her and both of you managed to exit through the window. 
The cold was the first thing you noticed, white snow melting into puddles close to the house due to the fire. Messy mud on the floor making the pristine white layer of snow look brown and messy.
There were already Wizards outside, Regulus stood next to his mother and Narcissa, who kept looking inside as if waiting for someone to come out as well. Reggie too was looking around nervously, the last time he saw you, you were still inside and things were chaos. 
You took a small stone and threw it towards him, when he turned around you said “Vermillious,” and from the tip of the wand you had stolen, faint red sparks appeared. People weren’t looking your way, and they had been so faint that they were nothing in comparison to the amount of light that came from your blazing Fiendfyre, but you saw Regulus smile and nod your way. You turned to Nina, somehow much more composed than seconds ago. “You like puzzles, don’t you?” you asked her as you nodded towards the hedge maze. 
She smiled and gave you a nod, “Let’s get out of here,” she added, and the two of you walked inside. You ran through the maze, staying as close to each other as possible, and jumping from dеad end to dеad end. It truly was a headache, but Nina was as determined to get out as you were, so you followed her lead and continued walking behind her. 
“We can’t be too far from the way out, the magic stopping us from apparating is losing power the deeper we go, can you feel it?” 
“Yes,” you replied with a smile, and end to the nightmare, finally. 
“You can apparate already, right?” 
“Kind of,” you replied. “I mean, yes,” you reassured, you’d figure out a way, you’d both get out, you had to.
“Finite incantatem,” someone said when you rounded a corner, and both you and Nina raised your wands against him.
“Would you look at that, charming little butterfly and her mudblood friend,” The man said with a wicked smile, his silver hair flowing behind him. “You really thought you’d get away after causing so much havoc? My fiancé’s father is dеad because of your little ruse.” 
“Obscuro,” you spat, ignoring his remark and going straight for defence.
“Protego,” he returned. “Stupefy!” 
You blocked his spell with practised ease. “Nina behind me!” you said with determination, “Depulso!” 
He blocked as well, “Confringo!” 
You ducked and pulled Nina alongside you to the ground. His spell went straight to one of the hedges and things started to heat up, quite literally. The snow surrounding the area behind you melted and mixed with the dirt beneath, making mud similar to the one just outside the house. 
Lucius taunted and attacked with increasing ferocity, while you fought desperately to defend both yourself and Nina. Spells flew back and forth, lighting up the night with bursts of magic. With each passing moment, the intensity of the duel escalated, fueled by adrenaline and desperation. 
There was constant shouting and blocking. The more time passed and the more time you stood your ground against the man, the angrier he seemed to become. And you were tired, the amount of magic you had used up to conjure the Fiendfyre and the fact that she was still distracting and burning things back at the house, even if out of your control, was draining your energy –and magic– at worrying speeds. 
Combining that with the charred image of your mother that you desperately tried to bury in the back of your mind, you felt closer and closer to losing your grip and concentration, but you refused to give in, if there was something that you were, even in cases of life and dеath, was stubborn. 
“Getting tired, butterfly?” he asked with a cocky smile when he noticed you had almost tripped on a spell. 
“Opugno!” you responded, ignoring his taunting. Suddenly the branches of the hedges seemed to come alive as they went straight to get him.
“Deprimo!” he shouted before the spell hit him, and the floor started to shake, both you and Nina managed to step out of the way, on time, but the hole in the ground had now trapped the two of you in a dеad end. 
“Reparo!” you shouted, your previous spell had been strong enough to distract him while you attempted to build the ground back up so you could continue. 
“Impedimenta!” he shouted, and you were locked in place. When did he even get out of the hedges?
You tried to focus on shaking the charm off while he pointed his wand at you again. You were tired, but you had fought against Nightshade’s impedimenta several times before, and Lucius’ curse was much weaker. Despite that, the amount of magic you had already used had debilitated you and it seemed to require even more concentration than it had done in the past. That didn’t make it impossible. 
You were just getting a grip on the knot of magic that seemed to lock you in place when Lucius smiled, still bound by the hedges but gloating at the way you struggled. 
“Stupefy Maxima!” he shouted. You braced yourself to receive the spell, but instead, you felt a push from the side and ended up cornered against one of the hedges as Nina fell to the ground right in front of you. 
“Nina!” you shouted and dropped to the ground next to her in an instant, then you saw another spell leave his wand. You stared at the red bolt coming straight at you with watery eyes, thinking of all the things you wouldn’t be able to do, of all the things Nina wouldn’t be able to do because you had failed to save her. Anger and sorrow filled your thoughts as you stared at dеath straight in the eyes. 
But she didn’t stare back.
Instead, there was a bright, blinding light that lasted no more than half a second, and Lucius was thrown back against one of the hedges. It was as if his wand had backfired the spell on him. You stared at the scene confused, your bafflement increasing only when you spotted Barty Crouch shooting a stunning spell in Lucius’ direction. 
You turned back to Nina as the two of them fought the other, “Nina,” you said softly as you placed your hands around her face, her cheeks were cold but there was something gooey and warm behind her hair. As you pulled your hand back to look at it better you realised what it was. You shook your head and as you stared. “No, no, no, no...” you repeated over and over again as you leaned down only to realise she had fallen onto a sharp rock. “No, no… Nina, look at me,” you said, voice wavering. 
Her weary gaze turned to you, her eyelids were heavy and tired, but she smiled faintly when she saw you. “You’re okay,” she sighed. 
“No, no, no,” you repeated, tears already blurring your sight as you stared at her. 
“Go!” she said softly, reassuringly. 
“No!” you said again, voice cracking near the end. 
She nodded soothingly, “It’s okay, you have to go.” 
“Nina, please!” you begged. “We can do something, we can find a way to–” 
“Go,” she interrupted you calmly, more secure now. “You’re all right,” she said and smiled, “I can go happy knowing you’ll be alright.” 
“You can’t! I won’t leave, not without you,” you replied stubbornly, shaking your head as you said it.
“You can’t stop her now, the bargain’s made, the deal’s done,” she said simply. 
“No, please,” you said as you leaned onto her chest and allowed the tears to stream down your face, the girl somehow managed to place her hand over your hair and played with some of the strands with the little strength she had left. 
“You know… I’ve been bles-sed,” she said, her breath caught in her throat. “Blessed that you were the last thing I got to see,” she added with a smile, “thank you for saving me.” 
You felt her hand go limp over your head and you heard the last beat of her heart boom against your ear. “No!” you cried and stood back up to look at her. She had a pleased and peaceful expression on her face, contrasting completely with her stained blonde hair, and the rapidly changing colour of snow, no longer white, but scarlet. “Rennervate,” you said pointing the wand at her. Nothing. “Rennervate,” you repeated, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Rennervate, Rennervate, Rennervate.” 
“Stop it!” you heard Barty say from behind you. 
“Rennervate!” you said again, completely disregarding the boy. 
“Hey! You need to get out of here, people are coming.” 
“I don’t care!” You snapped. And turned back “RENNERVATE!” 
“You’re going to diе too! Her sacrifice would be for nothing!” 
“Go to hell!” You responded. You felt him trying to pull you away from her. “Get your filthy hands off me!” 
“Re- rennervate,” you repeated, it was more a whisper than anything else, a desperate cry, a futile attempt to cling onto something that wasn’t there anymore, that wouldn’t be there no matter what you did. Perhaps you had used up your magic, it was a stunning spell, not a kiIling curse. 
But it had also been the fall, and the rock.  
“Listen to me!” Barty said as he hauled you up by pushing you against one of the hedges. “She’s gone, and if you don’t move, you’ll be the same! Your stupid spell will do nothing to bring her back!”
“She’s my friend!” you shouted angrily as you tried to pry his hands away from your arms. But Barty was still stronger than you. “She’s my friend, and she’s struggling because of me. I won’t give up on her!” 
“THERE IS NOTHING TO GIVE UP ON! SHE’S FUCKING DЕAD!” 
Rage filled your gaze as you managed to focus on him again, you tried to push him off of you again, this time with much more determination. When he realised, he smiled and loosened his grip. 
“What?” you asked in disbelief. 
“Wrath is more useful than desperation,” he retorted. “You need to get out of here.” 
You gave one last look at Nina, her pleased expression made her look as if she was sleeping, soft and simple and happy. Could you trick your brain into thinking she was just sleeping if you tried hard enough? 
You turned back to Barty wearily, “Why– why are you helping me?” you asked with a wavering voice, emotions raw and unfiltered at this point. 
“Evan told me what you did for him. He’s taking care of Lucius and I’m much better at apparating than him.” 
You swallowed, distrusting, and turned to the side, Evan was indeed in the distance, performing some kind of spell on the man that had murdered Nina. Your mind was spinning with conflicting emotions. You wanted to lash out, to scream and rage against the unfairness of it all. But there was no use, Nina was dеad and no matter how much you cried about it, you wouldn’t bring her back.
“Look! If it makes you feel better you can hit me–” His words were cut short as your fist connected to his face. “Fuck! I’m trying to help you!” he winced as he reached for his nose. Your fist stung, but clearly, his face did just as much. 
“You’ve been an asshole to me for months.” 
“And I’m trying to do a good deed, bIoody hell!” he replied with a frown, you glared in return. “Come on, we need to get out.” 
“I don’t want to!” You said in a stubborn whisper, you wanted to lean against her and cry until the snow covered both of your bodies and you could forget about it all. 
“But she wanted you to,” he replied, there was bIood streaming down his nose, but there was an honesty in his gaze that you didn’t think Barty was capable of. “Allow me to help make her last wish true.” 
You swallowed, giving the boy one more weary look, “Can you try?” 
“Try?” he asked, confused. He was trying.  
“To save her.” 
“It’s pointless, if you couldn’t do it–” 
“My magic’s weak,” you admitted, despite yourself, it didn’t matter anymore, you didn’t care if Barty or Evan used it against you as long as Nina came back. 
The boy sighed, clearly thinking it was pointless, but leaned down next to Nina either way “Rennervate!” he said steadily.
Seconds passed by, agonisingly slow but nothing happened.
You let out a defeated breath, your mind was suddenly empty. You realised if you didn’t want to end up like her, you’d have to pull yourself together somehow. Barty tried again, even if you didn’t ask him, but the result was the same. You placed a hand on his shoulder. 
“Fine, let’s get out,” you said with a nod. Barty stood up and you tighten your grip around the wand you were holding, taking in a deep breath before pointing it at Nina. “Papilioscorpus,” you said, focusing all of your attention on that one spell.
Suddenly Nina’s body transformed into a heap of small blue butterflies. You held back the sob that threatened to escape by sucking in a breath as the small creatures broke off Nina’s body, one by one until there was no more of her, but hundreds of them. 
How unfair it was, that Nina had to diе because she wasn’t a pureblood, you thought, even if Nina would disagree. She didn’t diе because she wasn’t a pureblood wizard, she didn’t diе because they tortured her to dеath, she didn’t diе weak and defenceless and in despair, you had spared her from that fate. No, Nina diеd to save you, and she was pleased with the choice she’d made, simply because she wouldn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t exist. 
They flew up, circling you for a second before continuing their path, way above the hedges, and leaving behind the bIoodstained snow in search of somewhere warm. 
Barty turned to you with a soft expression and then raised his wand to the butterflies, “Irascor,” he said simply. A protective charm, so they would be safe, even if Nina hadn’t been. 
“Thank you,” you managed to mumble, as you saw them leave, not allowing yourself to wallow in the hopelessness you felt at such a stunningly beautiful sight. The snow-covered landscape, the stars shining above in the sky, the small snowflakes falling softly on the ground, all contrasted deeply with how you felt, how broken and in pain you were. You blinked back the tears and turned back to him. 
He nodded and cocked his head to the side, indicating you to follow him. It was slow at first, steps into a different direction, away from the bIood, now being covered by a fresh layer of snow, away from Evan and unconscious Lucius. 
Eventually, Barty started to pick up speed and you matched his pace, a welcome heat to the cold that had now chilled your bones. The dress you had, while long-sleeved, wasn’t exactly snow-friendly. Your heels long forgotten, left as you took faster and faster steps. The white cool of snow against your heels, helping you focus on anything other than all the previous events. 
Barty seemed to know exactly where he was going, and you followed him blindly. The traces of your steps had been long erased by the constant falling snow. If he was leading you to safety or back to the house, what difference did it make at this point? 
But then you felt it: the barriers against apparating were gone. “Where should I take you?” He asked softly, softer than you’d expect him to, the two of you breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. 
You blinked, looking around like a lost puppy. You had no mother, your father was a deatheater or something, and your home was probably not yours anymore –not that it had felt like one in the last few years. “I have nowhere to go,” you said the words as you realised their weight. 
Barty sighed, he knew what it was like to not belong. To feel lonely and forgotten and like he had to be outstanding to be cared for, to be worthy. He knew what it was to have no place to call home, but he had Evan now. He knew what that felt like, and for the first time since he’d met you, he empathised with you. “Sirius?” he offered, he might not like him, but he knew Sirius was as special to you as Evan was to him.
“He’s with the Potters, you cannot apparate there, you don’t know where it is… It would be too dangerous, for the both of us,” you said steadily, emotionlessly, trying to cling to your analytical side. If you blocked the emotions threatening to boil out of you, if you hid them so deep within your mind that they wouldn’t bother you then perhaps you’d be able to keep moving. 
“Secret hideout?” 
“I–” then you remembered. “School! Take me to Hogwarts!” 
“You can’t apparate there…” he said with a frown. Hogwarts was a brilliant idea though, it would certainly be safer.
“No, but, you can apparate on the Shrieking Shack! You’ve done it before.” 
“You want me to take you back, there?” he asked, disbelief laced in his tone.
“Yeah!” you said with a confident nod. 
“Are you… sure?” he asked again, perhaps the emotional toll of the night was getting to you. 
“Yes! I can get to the castle from there,” you repeated. 
He looked at you as if analysing the situation, you seemed pretty sure of yourself, so he nodded, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you closer, Barty was as tall as you, still growing, so you assumed he’d be taller. You ended up hugging each other in the most awkward way possible (a weird sort of hug where neither of you seemed to want to touch each other) before he apparated just outside the shack. 
You felt a sense of relief when you spotted the snow-coated building. You had made it this far, against all odds. But was it worth it? With how much it had cost? 
Barty gave you one last look, “Can I have the wand?” he asked in a relatively polite tone as he pointed to the wand in your hand. He was being considerate, even for his standards.
“Pardon?” You asked as your grip on the wand tightened. 
“I’m going to say I tried to stop you but you apparated away, you’re talented for your age so it’s believable enough. Evan is obliviating Lucius. We’ll try to get your actual wand back–” 
“Nina’s,” you said as you handed him the one in your hand. He frowned. “Get Nina’s wand, it’s more important.” 
“Why?” 
“I can buy another wand, but she… she can’t,” you said, trying not to let your features betray the emotions you felt. 
“But it’ll be useless to–” You gave him a mix between a pleading look and a glare, and he stopped his words, “we’ll try,” he conceded.
You smiled weakly, “Thanks.” He was about to leave. “Wait!” you stopped him, a hand on his shoulder, he turned to you, movements soft and calm, he knew you were on edge. “Priori incantatem, they will know you tried to bring Nina back if they check.” 
“Give me the wand,” you said and he did as told. “Now take it.” 
“Expelliarmus,” he said and the wand you had stolen flew from your hand to his, he caught it in the air with ease. It was surprising how fast he’d caught on to what you meant, but you already knew Barty was brilliant, even if he used said brilliance for evil deeds more often than not. 
“And now stun me.” 
“What? Are you daft? I’m trying to save you,” he protested with a frown.
“And this is my way of thanking you, you put up a fight against me. Stun me softly if you will–” 
“Stupefy!” 
Your body reeled back against the gate and ended up on the floor. It had been soft, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Either way, the physical pain was a welcome distraction from the grief that threatened to consume you whole. 
“Payback for punching me in the face,” Barty said with a smile as he offered his hand. He was joking. 
You scoffed and pushed his hand away, deciding that sitting on the snow was comfortable enough. “Get the hell out before I punch you again.” 
His smile only grew wider and he had the nerve to send you a wink before he apparated again. You stared at the empty space he’d left for a while, there was snow all around. Falling and falling in a stunningly, slumbery sort of way. So peaceful and quiet in comparison to how loud and hectic things had been just seconds ago. Even your heartbeat, which had been blasting against your ears, was slowing down. 
You stared at the cold white snow, and let your head fall back onto the gate as one of your hands fell on it, pulling some of it up and staring at the way it fell from your fingers lazily. You remembered playing in the snow with the boys, how happy you had been that day, you wondered if you could ever be that happy again. 
Ah… how tired did you feel, things were calm now, you weren’t in danger anymore, you sank deeper into the ground, adrenaline dissipating with ease and exhaustion washing over you in waves. You closed and opened your eyes wearily. 
The shack, why did you have to get to the shack? You wondered, everything was so peaceful where you were, you liked it, the cold of the snow soothingly numbing the pain, all the pain, not just the physical one. You let a faint smile coat your lips, who’s that in the distance? You wondered, it looked like someone you knew, but paler. Could it be… Nina? 
And then you closed your eyes. 
And so we grace another table And raise our glasses one more time There's a face at the window And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye…
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Congrats on 1000 you deserve 10000000 and I love you very many ♥️ for the requests:
J, mafia AU, smut, ring
You know how I like it 😉😘
Mickala!!! 😍😭💖
Thank you so much, I couldn't have made it without all of your lovely support. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend. Hope you enjoy my silly little Mafia AU!
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Coup d'etat
Rated: E
Words: 999
Tags: Mafia AU; dark Eddie Munson; intrigue; blood and violence; bondage; nudity; explicit sexual content; consensual non-con
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“Nice pool,” Eddie drawls, walking back from the patio into the house. “Could’ve made a bit more of an effort to clean it. I said to leave the place as you’d like to find it, Dick.”
Richard Harrington’s eyes scream bloody murder, but he doesn’t dare speak. Jeff and Frank have him flanked on either side, guns ready in their holsters, and Gareth is manning the door. Just a precaution. Harrington has been in the business for long enough to know he has lost. All of his most loyal henchmen are dead or on the run, and the more fickle ones have joined Eddie’s side.
“Aw, don’t pout.” Eddie pats the man's cheek jovially. “This is just how it works. Survival of the fittest and all that. Now, I believe that concludes our little tour of the house? Or am I forgetting something?” 
Harrington’s face twitches. Jeff laughs and rolls his eyes. 
“The bedroom, Eddie?”
“Ah, of course!” Eddie snaps his fingers, like he only just remembered. “Shall we, gentlemen?”
*
A giant bed dominates the far wall of the master bedroom. On the mattress, wrists tied to the headboard, is a boy. The soft, muted light glows off his naked skin. 
“Ah,” Eddie mutters. “That’s what I’m talking about. Turns out you can follow directions.”
Harrington says nothing. The boy, who stopped tearing at his restraints when he heard the door open, stares at him with wide, panicked eyes. 
“Dad? What- … Who are those people?”
Eddie coos. With a few long strides, he’s at the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. One of his hands finds the boy’s bare ankle, sliding up his leg to a firm, freckled thigh.
“Aw, darling. He didn’t tell you?” 
“Tell me what? Leave me alone, perv!”
The boy tries to shy away from his touch, but he doesn’t get far, bound in place as he is. Eddie chuckles. 
“Shhh, honey,” he scolds, cradling that pretty face with both hands. “It's okay. The name's Eddie, I work for your dad. Well, worked.”
The boy blinks at him, hazel eyes large and confused. Eddie laughs softly.
“See, the firm’s under new management. My management, to be more specific. I’m trying to keep it minimum bloodshed, so your old man’s gonna make himself scarce and I’ve agreed not to bother him. In return, I get to keep this fine house … and everything in it.” 
Understanding dawns in those pretty eyes. 
“No! Don't- don't touch me. Stay away from me.” 
Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and wipes the first tears away as they spill over.
“Oh no, sweet thing. It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll take such good care of- wait a sec.” 
Because one of his hands has just slipped up to the boy's temple, fingers carding through thick, chestnut hair - only to come away red and sticky. The boy flinches, but Eddie grabs his jaw, holding him in place so that he can comb his hair aside. There’s a large, bleeding bruise on his temple. For a moment, the only sound in the room is that of the boy's hitched breathing. 
“Dick?” Eddie growls. “Explain this?” 
“He fought back,” Harrington mutters defiantly. “What was I supposed-” 
Eddie has him up against the wall, gun to his throat, before he can finish the sentence. 
“Are you kidding me? Trying to slip me damaged goods? I should fucking kill you, you son of a-” 
“Eddie,” Frank mutters. “C'mon, man.”  
Eddie blinks. 
“Right,” he says. “Get him out of my sight.” 
Relief washes over Harrington’s face as the gun disappears from his throat - only to be replaced by incredulous horror a second later, when Eddie holds out his hand before his face, palm up. 
“Go on, Dick. It's traditional, right? A sign of respect.”
Harrington growls. His hands curl into fists. Eddie smirks, raising an expectant eyebrow. Then, quickly, as if the touch will burn him, Harrington bows his head and kisses Eddie’s rings. 
“Not so hard, was it?” Eddie calls after him as he is escorted out. The door clicks shut. 
Eddie's smile slips. 
“Shit, Stevie,” he breathes. He's back on the bed in an instant, tilting the boy's head with gentle fingers to look at the injury. “What'd you go and do that for? I told you not to fight.” 
“And I told you it had to look convincing,” Steve retaliates. “Was I just supposed to let them tie me up and tear off my clothes and thank them for it?” 
Eddie's mouth twists into a grin. 
“We both know that's how you like it, honey.” 
He leans in, claiming those plush lips for a long, filthy kiss. Steve puts up a brief symbolic struggle, but Eddie growls warningly and slips a hand between his legs, and his protests turn into the sweetest little moans. Eddie only allows them to part once they're both out of breath and Steve is starting to buck and grind in his hold.
“Everything went well, then?” Steve asks. His voice is hoarse and raspy, and he needs to stop halfway through for another moan. “The- … the security codes all worked?” 
“Flawlessly, you sly little minx,” Eddie murmurs. He bites down on the perfect stretch of that long throat, rolls Steve’s balls in his hand, and delights in the full-body shiver it gets him. “That old asshole didn’t know what hit him.” 
Steve lets out a breathy laugh, rolling his hips to meet Eddie’s touch. 
“Good. Now untie me, so we can celebrate.” 
“Oh?” Eddie smirks, crawling further down and leaving a trail of biting kisses all over the soft skin of Steve’s chest and stomach. “But I am celebrating already.” 
Steve groans. “Eddie, c’mon!” 
“Ah-ah-ah, Stevie. There’s people out there who think I’m gonna ravage you tonight,” Eddie tuts, grabbing the boy’s twitching hips and blowing a warm stream of air on that pretty, flushed cock. Steve fucking mewls. The sound is like the sweetest music. “Be a good boy now. Gotta make it convincing, no?”
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Trial By Combat - 6
Requested By: No one. Original Work
CW: manipulation?
Summary: Arlecchino’s got a secret…
Note: You all asked and I will provide! Here’s part six <3 this chapter is a bit slow but I promise it’s leading up to something great!
Part One —> Part Five
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-
Fontaine, for the most part, had finally begun to go back to normal. Although no trials have been held since the Creators trial, many shops have reopened their doors to the public once more. It’s as if Fontainians want to disregard the event entirely, treating it as a work of fiction like the Prophecy. However, this doesn’t stop The Steambird from posting every single update regarding the Creator, nor does it stop every copy from selling out.
Despite the lack of trials, it hasn’t prevented the Chief Justice from sending criminals to the Fortress of Meropide, and only hours from now, Paimon and Aether would be a part of the group sent there. The two were the only customers dining at Cafe Lutece this afternoon, the owner seemed almost eager to provide the gluttonous amount of food the duo had ordered.
“Oh Paimon is feeling a bunch of nerves right now and it’s just making her more hungry.” She whines while rubbing her stomach. “I’m just hoping that the food in the Fortress is actually tasty.”
Aether lets out a soft chuckle, “it’s a prison Paimon. I doubt that the food will be any good”
Paimon pouts crossing her arms. “Hopefully will be rightfully compensated for our due diligence. Oh! Maybe even something from the Creator themselves!”
The traveler gives her a look, “you shouldn’t think like that Paimon, not when they are currently missing right now.”
The travel guide immediately covers her lips, muttering out a small apology.
“Speaking of the Creator,” Paimon says, “do you really think Childe might know something? I mean, we’ve heard how he’s talked about them before.”
It was true, during their time in Liyue when they had met Childe, he had expressed how heavily he revered the Creator. Not just him, all of the harbingers they’ve met have mentioned the Creator in a positive light. Aether even recalls when the Wanderer told him that the only thing all of the harbingers could agree on was their ultimate respect for them.
“Based off our interactions with the Fatui before, they might have some respect for Their Grace. But we still have no idea why they want the Gnosis, maybe it’s connected to the Creator.”
Paimon nods in agreement. “You’re right. If the gnosis are what connect the Archons to Celestia, then maybe the Creator has something similar?”
“Hopefully if the Fatui got their hands on Their Grace, they haven’t left Fontaine yet. We should still be able to rescue them.” Aether adds.
“Paimon hopes so too! Oh I can only imagine the type of horrors they could be putting them through!”
“Are you talking about Their Grace?!”
A familiar girl with a pink bob holding a camera in her head pops out of a bush quickly approaching the table. It was Charlotte, and she had a large smile on her face.
“Do you two have any nuggets of information about Their Grace? Oh please share it with me, I’ll make it worth your while!”
Paimon and Aether share a look before looking back at the journalist.
“We don’t have any new information on The Creator.” Paimon explained, “we didn’t even know they had returned until Monsieur Neuvillette told us.”
Charlotte makes a look of surprise, “wait seriously? It was such big news! I’m sure everyone in Teyvat wrote the piece I had written.”
Charlotte places her camera on the table taking a seat across from them. “I’m just hoping for Their Grace to have a speedy recovery. I would love to interview them if they let me, it just seems like all of the big names in Fontaine never have the time for an interview. Monsieur Neuvillette and the Duke of Meropide have been on the top of my list for ages now!”
“Oh right, you’re a journalist Charlotte! ” Paimon exclaimed, “do you have an information about the Duke?”
Charlotte ponders for a moment, “not really, just the same regurgitated information I get from people who leave the Fortress. Why do you ask?”
“We actually are going to the Fortress later today.” Aether answers.
Charlotte’s eyes get as big as saucers as she’s jumping in her seat. “You two are going to the Fortress?! Will you two please get some information about the Duke for me?
Noticing the restrained looks on their face, Charlotte quickly adds, “I’ll pay for your meal! Yeah…! Let’s make it a deal, you get information on the Duke for me and this meal of yours is on me!”
Paimon grins, “it’s a deal!”
Charlotte shares Paimon’s enthusiasm as she pulls out a small bag of mora ready to pay for the meal. At that moment, the owner returns with multiple plates and bowls filled with various amounts of entrees and desserts wheeling it to the table.
“H—how much did you order…?”
———
Many journalist stood outside of the Palais Mermonia demanding answers from their Archon who had entered the building earlier that morning. Luckily, gardes stood outside preventing anyone from entering.
Inside of the chief justice’s office was him, the God of Justice, and the Champion Duelist whose hair was damp with sea water.
“I checked the surrounding area,” Clorinde says, “there is no traces of Their Grace anywhere. The only logical conclusion is that the Fatui must’ve done something with them.”
Neuvillette nods. “Thank you for looking Clorinde, your help is appreciated.”
Clorinde nods, “it’s no trouble. We all want Their Grace to be found safe and sound.”
Furina had a worried look on her face as she paces back and forth in the office. “W—what are we supposed to do now? We looked all over Fontaine and they aren’t anywhere.”
“Lady Furina.”
Furina stops pacing, turning her gaze over to Neuvillette who looked calm considering the situation. “I think it’s time to meet with the Kanve, wouldn’t you agree?”
“T—that Knave?” Furina stammers, “ha, why would we meet with her? Don’t we have more important things to worry about?”
Neuvillette clears his throat, “until we find Their Grace, we must operate like normal. If the others find out that we lost Their Grace—“
Furina lets out a breath putting on a confident stance, “yes! Right of course!” She interrupts, “I was thinking the same thing… I will prepare for the two of us to discuss relations with her as soon as possible.”
“Who said that I would be joining you?”
Focalors lets out a short gasp as she quickly approaches his desk, her gloved hands balling into fists. “Y—you expect me to attend the meeting alone! No! You must go with me!”
Neuvillette closes his eyes as he shake her head, “I must focus all my attention on the Creator, we must locate them before the rest of Fontaine and Teyvat begin asking questions. As the Archon, this is something you should be able to handle. Correct?”
Furina tenses slightly but lets out a sigh. “But… wouldn’t attending the meeting be the best thing for Their Grace?”
Neuvillette furrows his brows, “What do you mean?”
Furina’s confident flair was back just as quickly as it dissipated, “Attending the meeting will give us the chance to indirectly interrogate the harbingers before she even knows that we suspect her.”
Noticing the look on the chief justice’s face, Furina lets out a boastful laugh. “Naturally I, the God of Justice, would be the first one to think of this! Worry not Neuvillette, I believe that after this meeting, the truth shall be revealed!”
Clorinde mutters how she needed a towel and Neuvillette lets out a sigh.
“Very well... I will participate in the meeting.”
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In between Fontaine’s Lumidouce Harbor and Chenyu Vale, a large ship was anchored the familiar insignia imprinted in the sail. There was a plethora of Fatui agents stationed on the ship that it was overwhelming, it would be impossible to infiltrate the ship without being spotted.
Many of the agents weren’t even aware why there was such an urgency to return to the homeland. Curious glances and whispers spread throughout the ship like wildfire, wondering what could the Knave possibly be doing in the lower deck that no one else was allowed to enter unless they brought news from Fontaine. All of them knew better than to question their harbinger, but she hadn’t been seen since the night before.
“Your Grace.”
Arlecchino’s soft voice cuts through your thoughts. Fontaine was in danger and you were the only one who could help, at least that’s what she believed. It was only a matter of time before the nation was completely wiped off the map, Lady Furina has done nothing but bury her head in the sand.
You glance at her face, despite her sharp features she still had a soft yet powerful air around her. Maybe that’s why the children from the House of the Hearth trust her so much.
“Are you hungry? I have chefs on board, they can prepare anything you desire.” Her hand rested on top of yours, her long nails rubbing against your knuckles in a comforting way.
You were famished. You knew she was capable of, but she was making you feel so welcomed. It felt as if you could trust her, tell her anything and she would understand.
You nod slowly and she smiles.
“I’ll be right back.”
She stands up from her spot next to you leaving the room. Her luscious black and white hair that was pulled into a low ponytail flowed behind her. Arlecchino returned quickly letting out a soft sigh.
“They are preparing a Snezhnayian specialty, the food is quite delicious. I hope it’s to your liking” She commented placing her hand right back on top of yours.
“We will be heading towards Snezhnaya at sunset.” She says. “Although leaving Fontaine wasn’t originally apart of my plan, but considering the circumstances, changes had to be made.”
You furrow your brows. “The circumstances?”
Arlecchino nods. “Your power…or rather, lack there of.”
“I have a colleague, I do not trust nor like him very much but I cannot deny his intelligence, I believe he may be able to figure out the answer… or even Her Majesty may know.”
So there was a colleague within the Fatui who had extreme intelligence that might be able to help you. Maybe he would even know why you were healing so quickly? Or does that tie into your “godly” abilities too?
“Is that why we are leaving so quickly? Because of my supposed amnesia?” You ask.
The Knave shakes her head, “not necessarily. It’s mainly for your safety, you don’t wish to stay in a nation that tried to kill you, right Your Grace?”
You were forced into a corner with that question. Wanting to stay in a nation that almost killed you was bad, but wanting to go to a nation that had the capability to kidnap you wasn’t any better. Yet you had to pick your poison, and in that moment you decided—
“Right.” You reply. “Leaving Fontaine is the smartest option.”
“I knew that you would see it my way,” she praises, “I only want what’s best for you and all of Teyvat.” She gives your hand a squeeze a small smile spreading on her red lips.
A small knock on the door interrupts the moment, Arlecchino looks at the door her gaze becoming icy. “You may enter.”
The door opens and a young lady whose face is obscured by a mask enters and she immediately kneels.
“Y—your Grace… Lady Harbinger.” Her voice was almost breathless, her gaze transfixed on you. “I have news from Fontaine.”
Arlecchino lets out a sigh crossing her legs. “News? What is it?”
“Focalors has agreed to have a political meeting with you. The chief justice Neuvillette will also be attending.”
The Knave doesn’t even try to hide the smirk that spreads on her face, “Very well then. Was there a time mentioned for this meeting?”
“In the next few hours Lady Harbinger. We’ve already got a boat ready to return back to Fontaine’s harbor.”
Arlecchino stands, her gaze becomes soft once more when she looks back at you. “Your Grace, I will return as soon as I can. If you have any needs anyone on the ship will be more than happy to serve you.”
She exchanges a few whispers with the agent before giving you one last smile leaving the bottom deck. The agent looks at you one last time before stuttering out.
“I—I’ll go get your meal immediately Your Grace!” She rushes out of the door leaving you alone once more.
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The Fortress of Meropide was more grand than Aether had anticipated. Surrounded by Fontaine’s sea, there was no escape from this prison besides the path they embarked, which was at the rear of the Opera Epiclese.
After heaving their mugshots taken, Aether and Paimon are escorted onto a ship where they meet their tour guide, who is also just another prisoner within the Fortress. The entire tour he was standoffish and dry only giving the required amount of information. If the two asked for more information about credit coupons, secret rules, or about the Creator, he would say they’d have to pay for that.
The prisoner leads the two down the large hallway of the Fortress when multiple gardemeks came around the corner. The traveler immediately takes a stance ready for a fight when a voice eases his worries coming around the corner with the machinery.
“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide,” the man greets. He had dark clothing and dark hair with a scar under his eye.
“Y—your Grace!” The tour guide quickly says, his standoffish nature immediately disappears. “Lovely weather we’re having!”
The man glances over at the tour guide, “Hm? Oh yes, I guess the weather is nice. If we could see it.”
The prisoner lets out an awkward laugh as the Duke looks back at Paimon and Aether. “I’m Wriothesley, but you can call me Your Grace.”
“You’re the Duke of Meropide?” Paimon asks in a shocked tone. Wriothesley nods.
“So, how was your tour?” He asks, “was everything up to standard?”
Aether glances as the tour guide for a moment before giving Wriothesley a firm nod. “Yep. No complaints here.”
“Wonderful.” Wriothesley smiles, “I think we should be able to reward you with more credit coupons then?”
“T—thank you Your Grace! Thank you!” The tour guide says. He then looks over at the traveler, “and thank you for such kind words! If you ever need anything! Anything at all! Please come find me!”
Once he rushes off, the Duke turns his attention back onto the newcomers.
“So, is it normal for you to greet all newbies in person like this?” Paimon asks.
Wriothesley lets out a soft laugh. “No it’s not. I just heard that you two were friends with Neuvillette so I figured I finish the tour myself.”
“Wait, how do you know that?” Aether questions.
“The Fortress might look like it’s cut off from the rest of the world but word still travels fast. Just like what happened to Their Eminence.”
Paimon glances at the traveler briefly. Wriothesley continues, “Many people in the Fortress were ready to leave just for a chance at seeing the Creator. But since they are still in the hospital recovering, I managed to keep them under control.”
“What else do you know about the Creator?” Aether asks.
“Nothing really.” He responds, “I haven’t had the time to leave the Fortress and go visit them myself. Unless you’re talking about the basic information, there’s books all around the Fortress that can tell you that.”
Wriothesley continues on with the tour, showing the where the so-called cafeteria was, the Pankration Ring, and where they would report to work everyday. He also mentions Sigewinne, the nurse who looks after anyone who gets hurt or sick.
Lastly, he shows them where they’ll be sleeping. As he explains the procedures for their room, Aether gazes falls onto someone walking nearby. An oddly familiar magician.
Lyney stops walking and looks back at him, but once Wriothesley notices, Lyney lets out a soft laugh doing a dramatic bow.
“Well hello there Your Grace! It’s lovely to see you out of your office!”
Wriothesley crosses his arms, “it’s good to see you too, but shouldn’t you be reporting to work?”
The magician gives him a cheeky smile as he stands back up, “of course! That’s where I was heading right now! But these two must be very important to get a personal tour from the Duke himself.”
Wriothesley says nothing in response but Lyney quickly excuses himself, his gaze falling onto Aether once more before walking out of sight.
“Come on,” Wriothesley says, “there’s one last stop I’d like to make.”
———
The three sit at one of the tables in the cafeteria, the chef bringing over three welfare meals. They remove the lids revealing the delectable meals inside causing Paimons mouth to water.
“Oh is this what the food is like in the Fortress?” She rubes her hands together, “Paimon could get used to this!”
“Actually, I managed to pull a few strings to get this meal, after today, you might not get another meal like this.”
The fairy didn’t seem to be paying attention as she keeps shoving more food into her mouth. The traveler rolls his eyes at his companion, looking back at the Duke.
“So you said there was books in the Fortress about the Creator?” Aether asks, his fork pushing around his meal mindlessly.
Wriothesley nods. “There are groups within the Fortress to make people feel more welcome or comfortable. There’s quite a few revolved around Their Eminence. Prayer groups, wanting a stronger relationship, or just normal worship in general, they’re actually pretty popular.”
Paimon swallows the food in her mouth, “How do you feel about them?”
Wriothesley ponders for a second, “I don’t know anyone who has a negative view on Their Eminence, including myself. I would be honored to go up to the surface soon and share a cup of tea with them.”
Aether didn’t say anything in response, but he had a feeling that Wriothesley knew more about the Creator than he let on. He did say word travels fast from the surface, is it possible he already knows the Creator is missing?
“Anyways,” Wriothesley says, “I have other things to attend to, enjoy your time in the Fortress and try not to cause any trouble.”
The Duke gives one last farewell, leaving the table without another word. Aether and Paimon continue eating their welfare meals preparing themselves to adjust to their new situation and figure what exactly Childe may know about the Creator.
———
“You were right.”
In a dark corner of the Fortress, the twins from the House of the Hearth spoke in quiet whispers.
“Paimon and the Traveler, I just saw them.” Lyney explained.
Lynette’s ear lay flat on her head, her tail swaying slightly. “Monsieur Neuvillette must’ve told them and they’re here to investigate.”
“We have to do what Father told us to do.“ Lyney adds, “although playing ignorant to figure what they know won’t hurt either.”
Lynette lets out a sigh. “…and what about Tartaglia?”
Lyney shrugs, “what about him? He’s not here. We have to focus on the Creator. Without Their Grace, the Fatui won’t be able to—“
“I know.” Lynette interrupts. “Let’s just focus on the traveler for now.
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“I must say, the timing of this meeting seems almost convient…” Arlecchino narrows her gaze as she brings her teacup up to her lips.
“I’ll just cut straight to the chase. I’m here about my colleague, Childe and of course, Their Grace.”
The table inside of Neuvillette’s office was covered in sweets from Snezhnaya, something the Kanve brought to ease the tensions within the meeting. Yet, it doesn’t seem to be working.
“Childe was declared innocent by you, the Iudex, yet was still given a guilty verdict by the Oratrice…” Arlecchino explains, “and only days after that, you declare that Their Grace is an imposter and almost kill them.”
Furina shifts uncomfortably in her seat, “Y-yes… we are aware of our… transgressions. The Creator is being well looked after and is healing quite quickly.”
Arlecchino perks up, “Oh? They are? So is it possible for me to see them for myself?”
“That won’t be possible at the moment, I apologize.” Neuvillette quickly adds in.
Arlecchino brings a forkful of cake up to her mouth as she lets out a scoff. “An outright refusal? I must say, I am surprised…”
Neuvillette crosses his arms, “this meeting wasn’t called to talk about Their Grace, but rather Mr. Tartaglia, correct?”
“That is correct. Then am I able to enter the Fortress to check on the wellbeing of my colleague?”
“That also won’t be possible.”
Arlecchino sighs, “so I cannot see Their Grace and I cannot see Childe. What exactly will this meeting accomplish?”
“We already have a course of action for Their Grace.” Focalors adds, “but we cannot share it with you or any other nations for now. This meeting was just a… common courtesy”
“And as for Mr. Tartaglia I am investigating matter.” The chief justice adds.
“A common courtesy?” The Knave questions, “everyone in Teyvat is wondering just what exactly will Fontaine do after committing the biggest sin known to man… and all you can say is that it’s confidential? Not to mention the prophecy you refuse to address.”
Furina shoves another bite of cake into her mouth, scooting her chair closer to Neuvillette.
“As long as Their Grace is in our nation, they are under our jurisdiction.” Neuvillette explains.
Arlecchino clicks her tongue. “A disappointing outcome indeed… but I cannot say I am shocked.”
Arlecchino finished her tea, “the Fatui is willing to extend our help if you need it. You all seem to have a lot on your plate at the moment. Maybe it’s best to pass some of the responsibility onto someone else?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Neuvillette states.
The Knave stands from her seat, brushing her bangs out of the way, revealing her red X eyes. “I think it’s safe to say this meeting is concluded, I have to return back to Snezhnaya immediately.”
Furina raises a brow, “returing so soon? W—why such a rush to leave?”
It falls silent in the room for a few seconds.
“Her Majesty cares very dearly about the Creator, I am expected to report any and all news directly to her.” Arlecchino explains, her back facing the two.
“Snezhnaya as a whole cares deeply about Their Grace, and once they heal completely we will welcome them with open arms… not a trial.”
Focalors looks down at her lap as Arlecchino leaves the office returning to her ship anchored near the border of Fontaine and Liyue. A sinister smile spread on her lips while Neuvillette and Furina sit in the office in silence, a sour taste lingering in their mouth even with the baked goods in front of them.
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Note: Good luck to all my Arlecchino wanters! I got her and her sig weapon so I give all my luck to you <3
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