#((I kept that surprised for him after he turn back :)]

[chuluoyi]

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑

- xavier x reader

a new friendly colleague has joined your team, but your boyfriend is convinced he is up to no good... and that's why xavier is determined to show it that you are his

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, fluff explicit smut: slightly rough sex, fingering, doggy style, based on xavier's card misty silhouette

note: skxmskcjsf bye don't look at me. this fanart and xavier's card messed me up :') this banner is so unhealthy for me i swear </3

Xavier knew he wasn’t the most patient person.

But even patience, he thought, has limits. And he had been patient and reasonable for a week, to be precise.

It all started ever since that damned new recruit entered his team. He didn't know why, but he kept coming to you for everything—directions, advice, even trivial nonsense like lunch recommendations. It was almost as if on purpose.

This afternoon was no different. Xavier had been looking forward to having lunch with you—just the two of you. You’d promised him, after all.

And yet—

“There was this one time I got trapped inside the N109 Zone—”

“N109 Zone!?”

“Yes!”

“Really?! What did you do then?”

“Hmm, so at first, I was in total panic, but then—”

For the past 15 minutes, your lunch break had been taken over by recounting your tales of valor as a hunter to the new recruit. Nearby, Xavier sat in brooding silence, scathingly sparing him a glance. The slight frown on his face said it all—blatant disinterest and a touch of irritation.

And you too... why are you engaging him so enthusiastically?

Then again, given his age, Xavier knew he had to be mature about this. He tried, really. If it had been someone like Jeremiah, he might have let it slide.

But there was just something about this new recruit—Sean, was it?—that rubbed him the wrong way.

“Whoa, you're so cool, Miss Y/N!” Sean exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “Not only are you pretty and talented, but you're also incredibly skilled! What do you even lack, eh?”

“Really, it's not that much,” you giggled, brushing him off. The way you got sheepish only made Xavier’s annoyance flare even further.

“Let me guess— a boyfriend!”

So that’s what it was. Now Xavier understood what about Sean that set him off. The entire time you’d been talking, he had been giving you those googly eyes.

He didn't like it one bit. He looked ridiculous while doing it.

Despite being silent as a mouse all the way, before he could stop himself, he blurted, “She has a boyfriend already.”

You turned to him in surprise, clearly not expecting him to announce it so bluntly.

“Oh...? Xavier, you know who her boyfriend is...?” Sean turned to him with curiosity.

He noticed it. How his expression fell ever so slightly upon he told him that you were already taken. Xavier huffed and stuffed his mouth with his ramen.

“Yeah. Her boyfriend lives next door.”

Technically, he lived upstairs, but the detail didn’t matter. He just needed to make his point known.

And somehow, for the rest of the day, the new recruit finally seemed to develop some sense—at least enough to stop hovering around you so frequently. Particularly when Xavier was nearby.

“Xavier... why did you tell him that?”

You fell into step beside your quiet boyfriend as the two of you headed home that evening, tilting your head as you replayed the events of the afternoon.

Xavier gave you a brief glance before looking straight ahead again, ignoring your question.

You observed him. There it was again—that gray cloud hovering over him. It always seemed to appear when he was in a bad mood.

Puckering your lips, you pressed further. “We haven’t even told anybody else about our relationship... And what you did there—you’re literally telling him we’re dating.”

“So what?” he shot back, his tone sharper than usual. “Are you afraid people might find out we are? Or—”

Xavier abruptly stopped in his tracks, turning to face you. His usually vibrant blue eyes darkened, piercing into yours with a sharp gleam. “Are you afraid he will find out?”

There was something in his gaze that held you captive—that made your silly heart skip a beat.

“N-no...” you looked away, swallowing the heat that were about to take over your face. Why does Xavier look kind of... hot like that...?

Your cheeks warmed regardless, but you had to appease him. “Like I told you before, I just thought it’d be easier if this stayed our little secret. It’s less of a bother if they don’t know…”

Reaching for his hand, you gave it a reassuring squeeze and flashed him a soft smile. “Besides, why would I be afraid if he knows? My boyfriend is cool, handsome, and the best hunter there is.”

You watched as Xavier's expression softened, the tension melting away. A faint blush crept up his cheeks too, and the gray cloud that had loomed over him finally disappeared. He squeezed your hand in return, looking away as if to hide the way he got bashful.

Adorable. For all his brooding, your boyfriend was surprisingly easy to soothe.

For the rest of the walk back to your apartment, you two remained hand-in-hand, the tension of the afternoon slipping away with each step.

. . .

You were staying over at Xavier's place tonight. After a relaxing bath and a hearty dinner, the two of you found yourselves standing side by side in the kitchen, doing the dishes together.

It was mundane things like this that Xavier considered his favorite routine to do with you. Just as you handed him the last plate to dry, you spoke up, your voice breaking the quiet hum of contentment—

"Xavier, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

"I was just thinking... Sean seems nice and friendly, but from what I’ve seen, you seem kind of... hostile towards him."

At your words, a frown etched itself onto Xavier’s forehead as he turned to face you fully. You seemed so oblivious, standing there with a look of genuine curiosity.

"Do you really not know?" he questioned you incredulously.

You blinked. "Know what?"

Damn it. Xavier sighed and put down the dish he was holding, but the words faltered on his tongue as a sour expression crossed his face. "No matter," he muttered under his breath.

He took a deliberate step closer, his movements slow and heavy, and you instinctively backed away, only to find yourself pressed against the window, unable to retreat further.

He stood in front of you now, his arms caging you in, creating a barrier that sealed off any chance of escape.

Uh-oh. Apparently, you had flipped that switch—

"So," he said, his voice low, his blue eyes boring into yours, "while Sean is nice and friendly, I’m hostile, huh?"

The air between you grew thick, and you could feel your pulse quicken under the weight of his gaze. "That's not what I'm getting at—"

"He's been eyeing you all day, following you around... getting lunches with you—"

In that moment, your phone erupted to life, its ringtone cutting through the tension. It sat on the small table near the windowsill, and Xavier gave it a quick glance, his expression darkening upon seeing Sean's name flash on the screen.

"Oh?" His voice dropped lower, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes. "He's now calling you at nights too?"

"No!" you quickly refuted, your words tumbling out almost too fast. "Xavier, don't get the wrong idea—"

He tilted your jaw to face him, holding your spooked gaze. "Then what idea am I supposed to be getting when he's so blatantly pursuing you and you don't even do anything about it?"

The plot twist is... you know. Of course you knew it when a guy was trying to make a move on you, you just pretended not to notice it because it was easier that way. You didn’t know which devil had planted this rotten idea in your head that made you want to push Xavier to the edge, just to see how he'd react when he held nothing back—

The call tonight was a coincidence though, but definitely fueled your lover's ire even more. It was a dangerous game, but now that you’d crossed this line, you couldn't go back any longer.

Your lips curled into a bewitching smile then, and your boyfriend was almost mystified. "So, what will you do to me?"

Xavier looked at you with slightly widened eyes, not expecting your boldness at all. But then he grimaced, as at the same time, the irritation in his veins suddenly flared up—

With a swift, fluid motion, he turned you that you faced the window, his right arm wrapping around your waist from behind as he pressed his body against yours—his hardness pressing, almost poking you.

"You're so clueless," he growled into your ear before going after your neck, sucking hard and fast. His hips began to grind against you, pressing harder with each movement. "Too damn clueless...!"

His fingers that gripped your belly moved then, slipping inside your frisky nightgown to finger you— and you lost all your wits in that instant. "Ah-h—!"

Two of his fingers pumped in and out of you, dragging them almost rashly, and it took everything in you to stay upright. "X-Xavier!"

"Mmph," he breathed against the skin of your neck, his other arm pressing you against him tighter. "You asked for it."

Your thighs were trembling in no time, and your breaths came in shaky moans. Your boyfriend was not exactly gentle, but this is probably the first time in a while that he was being rough without reservations. While you wanted to protest, it felt too good—

He turned your face towards him then, crashing his lips on yours.

It almost felt like you were punished, but you couldn't do anything about it. The tension in your lower belly was steadily building, ready to snap at any moment, and the way his fingers relentlessly hitting that one unforgivable spot was starting to made you dizzy.

"Ah—ngh!" You finally shuddered when you reached your climax. It was freeing when you felt yourself burst on his fingers, the release smearing your thighs.

And right then your knees buckled—

But Xavier immediately got a secure hold over you, lifting your body effortlessly into his arms, one hand supporting your knees, the other cradling your back. Through your teary eyes, you met his gaze once more. His expression was unreadable, a dark haze of disapproval clouding his features.

“I’m not done yet.”

He brought you over to his bed, gently lying you down despite the roughness of his voice. He parted your legs, getting himself between them—

Ring! Ring!

The shrill sound of your phone pierced the coolness of the room, and you almost jolted.

But your lover... the sound was like a spell to him, only intensifying his irritation as his features twisted with frustration, and you knew that he was about to take it on you.

As if changing his mind, Xavier suddenly flipped you over that you laid on your stomach and straddled you from behind. He quickly turned your head to face him and claimed your lips in a deep, urgent kiss.

“Mm, hmmp—!” The ringtone of your phone blared in the background, a jarring sound that wasn't pleasant at the slightest. It wasn’t until it finally stopped that he pulled away from the kiss.

You were gasping for breath, your chest heaving, and a stray tear slipped from your eyes. Xavier stared at you, and gently wiped it away with his thumb.

Flushed, sweaty, tearful... you looked so enchanting in his eyes in that moment. He almost felt bad that he had manhandled you this roughly.

Almost.

His hands gripped your waist, and he paused, his gaze locked with yours, silently seeking your approval— or more like, commanding you to give it to him.

In response, you arched your back— a silent affirmation, bracing yourself.

From then on, he was no longer holding back. He tugged your panties down and let his throbbing member out of his pants. It was laughable how insatiable he was— both of you were still clothed, save for his unbuttoned shirt, but he was already this aroused and hard.

He nudged forward, his tip breaching your entrance. The feeling of that familiar stretch left you keeling, babbles and whimpers falling from your lips as he slowly eased into you.

It was hard to take him in fully, and you were a mess of breathy gasps the moment you did. But you were in for the main ride when he started ramming into you, pushing in and out of you in a merciless pace.

"Ah... Xavier!" you panted between thrusts, feeling how it started to be too much for you the more he went on. "Ahh, hrah!"

Behind you, Xavier groaned in reply, his lips sucking your shoulder as his hips quickened, striving to bring you to the peak faster. One of his large hands dug into the skin of your stomach, urging your back to arch more, while the other clasped yours, fingers entwined in the sheets.

He watched intently as your face twisted and contorted in ecstasy, a surge of pride swelling within him, greater than he thought possible.

It was mind-blowing, slightly forceful, and your senses were all heightened. The harsh pace drew cries from your lips, your tears falling to the sheets, yet the pleasure also catapulted you into the stars—

The sinful delight of having him so deep within you.

The sinful rapture of being thrusted over and over.

“Ahhh!” And then, all at once, it was as if heaven and hell collided in a cataclysmic burst. Everything inside you shattered as you cried out—a scream morphing into a high-pitched gasp—as the two of you reached the climax together. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your walls clasped around him impossibly tight as Xavier filled you with everything that he had in one shot.

You collapsed against the sheets like a ragdoll, the pressure finally easing from your sore spine.

“Hello? Yes, it’s Xavier...”

The morning after. You stirred awake, your mind still foggy with sleep, as muffled voices filtered in from outside the bedroom.

“I have to take an urgent leave today...”

You were still utterly drained, your body heavy and unwilling to move. Instinctively, your hand reached out to your side, searching for your lover, but the spot was empty.

“Yes. Y/N too. She isn’t well today... We will be back tomorrow...”

You let out a soft, tired whine, your voice plaintive, as you lay sprawled across the bed, wishing for his warmth to return. Honestly, everything was still sore, and you were this close to tears again.

The door then opened with a creak not long after, and you let out a whimper, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Are you awake...?” Xavier's voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he stepped closer to the bed.

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry. He was already dressed, his crisp appearance in stark contrast to your disheveled state. In his hand, he held a small plastic bag.

“What’s that...?” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as you struggled to prop yourself up, curiosity flickering through your tired gaze.

“Don’t get up too quickly,” Xavier murmured, his hands steady as he caught you mid-movement. He guided you back down and tucked the blankets snugly around you, his touch gentle yet firm. “Just rest for now.”

A low hum of contentment escaped you as you leaned into his touch. Your bleary eyes focused solely on him, and despite himself, Xavier found a smile tugging at his lips.

“I just went to the drugstore downstairs to get you some painkillers,” he explained, lifting the small plastic bag slightly. “Take them after you’ve had some breakfast later.”

He then fixed you a bashful grimace, looking down. “Sorry for... uh, last night... I think I’ve pushed you too far.”

His fingers reached out, brushing gently against your cheek. The same fingers that had driven you to the brink of madness the night before now so tender against your skin. “You were crying,” he murmured, guilt lacing his voice. “I feel bad.”

“Mm-hm, so that’s what happens when you don’t hold back at all,” you snickered softly, the corners of your mouth curving despite the lingering ache in your body.

Xavier shifted his gaze away, his confidence faltering. “Will you... hate me for it?”

It was hard to contain your smile from breaking out into a grin. Your boyfriend, a ferocious wolf in a sheep’s clothing, had no need for this shy charade when he had railed you that hard last night.

“No, but you’re going to have to make it up to me. I can’t even walk now.”

Xavier blinked before he patted your head. “Yeah, I’ll fulfill any of your wishes,” he sighed in relief, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. “So, what is it?”

You paused for a moment, then with a mischievous glint in your eye, you said, “Take me to the bathroom? I want to have a shower first.”

And, of course, he obliged. With a effortless motion, Xavier scooped you up into a princess carry, holding you close. His arms cradled you with care, and you rested against his chest, the warmth of his embrace offering a sense of security.

Just like that, you spent the rest of the day as lovers, sleeping in with careless abandon, unburdened by your duties.

Epilogue

Later in the afternoon, you were once again deep in a sleep as Xavier cuddled you close, when suddenly the doorbell of his apartment rang incessantly.

Frowning, Xavier carefully eased himself out of bed, making sure not to disturb your slumber. He moved quietly towards the door, and when he saw the intercom, his frown worsened.

Sean, the newbie, was at his doorstep. He had half a mind to ignore him, but after a beat, he decided to open the door.

“What do you want?” his voice sharp with annoyance.

“Oh, Xavier!” The guy was stunned for a moment as his eyes lingered on Xavier’s chiseled abs, exposed through the his unbuttoned shirt. “O-oh, so... I’ve been trying to ring the doorbell to Y/N's apartment to give her a fruit basket to wish her a fast recovery, but she’s not answering—” he hastily explained, gesturing toward the basket in his hand. “Can you reach her—?”

Xavier felt like popping a vein at how meddlesome this guy was. Was this guy an idiot? Didn’t he realize by now that he was your next-door boyfriend?

Nevermind. The hard way it is.

“She’s with me.”

“H-huh?”

He shot him a pointed look. “Don't think you’ll have a chance with her, newbie.”

And with that, he shut the door in his face.

[joelsrose]

Mr Miller

I had an itch …..

Mrs. Miller’s laughter rang through the entryway, light and carefree, as you closed the book resting in your lap. You stood slowly, hesitating for a moment before rounding the corner to see her near the door. Joel stood behind her, his arms wrapped securely around her waist as he leaned down, nipping playfully at her ear. She swatted at him with a laugh, her cheeks flushed, and he smiled, his face soft and unguarded.

You froze, your stomach twisting as if you’d intruded on something deeply private. The moment was too intimate, too raw, and you suddenly felt out of place, like you didn’t belong in their carefully constructed world.

“Oh!” Mrs. Miller exclaimed, straightening up the moment she noticed you standing there. Joel didn’t move, his hands still resting comfortably on her waist, but his gaze flicked to yours. His expression didn’t falter—if anything, his dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“How were the girls?” Mrs. Miller asked, her tone breezy as she grabbed her purse.

“Perfect, as always,” you said, forcing a smile as you shifted the weight of your bag on your shoulder.

“Good,” she said with a nod, pulling out her wallet. She moved toward you, counting out bills. “Seventy okay?”

You blinked in surprise. It was more than she usually paid you for babysitting —more than the agreed amount.

Your gaze flicked briefly to Joel, who remained rooted in place, watching the interaction with an unreadable expression. Maybe she was feeling generous after a good night with her husband.

“That’s too much,” you protested, shaking your head slightly.

Mrs. Miller waved you off with a smile. “You’re in college,” she said, her tone light but faintly condescending. “I remember what that used to be like. Trust me, you need it more than I do.”

You forced another smile despite the subtle sting of her words. “Thank you,” you said softly, pocketing the money.

“Anyways,” you added, adjusting your bag again, “I should get going—”

“Wait,” Joel interrupted, stepping forward, his voice low and steady. “Wanna show you something.”

You hesitated, your heart picking up pace as Mrs. Miller turned to look at him with an exasperated smile.

“Joel, if it’s those damn ducks outside, I swear to God,” she said with a playful sigh, shaking her head.

“Ducks?” you asked, your confusion clear.

“They’re swans,” Joel corrected, his tone deadpan as he finally glanced at his wife. Without waiting for a response, he gestured for you to follow him. “C’mon.”

You hesitated, unsure whether to follow, but Mrs. Miller shook her head, waving you off with a smirk. “He’s obsessed,” she said, ascending the stairs with her purse slung over her shoulder. “The quicker you follow him, the quicker you’ll be free to get out of here and live your life.” She paused, turning back briefly to wink at you. “Thanks again for tonight.”

You stood there for a moment, caught in a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, unease, and the nagging curiosity Joel always seemed to spark in you. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you followed him out the door, stepping into the crisp evening air, unsure of what you were walking into but unable to stop yourself from finding out.

Joel held the door open, waiting for you to follow him. He leaned casually against the frame, his broad shoulders filling the space with an ease that felt effortless. He looked handsome—too handsome. His shirt, crisp and perfectly fitted, tugged slightly over his chest, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Mrs. Miller had chosen his outfit for the night. The thought sent a pang of jealousy through you, unwelcome and irrational, but there all the same.

You wondered fleetingly about their bedroom—what side of the bed he slept on, what he wore to bed, whether he kept a book on the nightstand or if he simply rolled over and fell asleep. The thought twisted something in your chest, and you quickly brushed it aside, stepping past him and out into the cool evening air.

As you passed him, his scent wrapped around you, clean and woodsy, with a hint of something expensive—too expensive for you to recognize. It lingered, warm and enticing, as he closed the door softly behind you.

Joel gestured toward the edge of the pool, his hand resting briefly on the glass pool fence as he leaned against it. The water shimmered under the glow of the patio lights, its surface reflecting the silver-blue hue of the moon hanging high in the sky.

Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, the soft rustle of the lighter breaking the silence. The flame flickered briefly, illuminating his face in warm gold as he lit it. He turned to you, the cigarette dangling from his fingers, offering it to you with his eyes—a silent invitation.

“Oh, no thanks,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t smoke.”

Joel nodded, tucking the cigarette back between his lips. “That’s good,” he said, his voice low, the words curling around the smoke. “Nasty habit.”

But he didn’t stop.

You shifted on your feet, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cool breeze. “So,” you said, trying to fill the quiet. “Swans?”

Joel didn’t answer. Instead, he exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. “Sophie hates when I smoke,” he said finally, his tone almost conversational, as though he wasn’t ignoring your question entirely.

“Oh,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. You weren’t too sure he was discussing his wife’s distaste with you but you didn’t move.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Think she hates the fact that it lingers on my clothes more than the fact that it can kill me.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and unresolved, as you stood beside him, both of you looking out at the pool, at the moon, at anything but each other. There was something unspoken in his posture, in the way he leaned against the glass as if it was holding more than just his weight.

You swallowed hard, feeling the tension between you shift and swell, the quiet night amplifying every unspoken word. Joel took another drag of his cigarette, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, and you wondered, not for the first time, what thoughts haunted him in moments like this.

“What do you like about it?” you asked hesitantly, unsure of how to break the thick silence between you.

Joel turned his head toward you, his expression unreadable. He shrugged, the movement lazy, like he had nothing to prove. “Tastes like crap,” he admitted, taking another slow drag of the cigarette. “But like I said, becomes a habit.”

You nodded, glancing around the patio. Still no swans.

“So,” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet as he turned to face you fully. “What’s your bad habit?”

You blinked, taken aback by the question. Was he tipsy from dinner? His tone was casual, but there was something in the way his gaze lingered on you, sharp and assessing, that made your pulse quicken.

“Uh,” you stammered, shifting awkwardly. “I don’t… I don’t really have one.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a small, amused smile. “So you’re perfect?”

“No,” you said quickly, scoffing as your cheeks burned. “I just don’t really… you know.” You gestured vaguely. “Smoke, or drink that much, or… do drugs.”

Joel nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “So, you’re a good girl,” he said, his voice low and deliberate.

Something about the words sent a flicker of heat through you, angering you in a way you didn’t fully understand. He wasn’t wrong. You were a good girl, objectively. You followed the rules, you did what was expected of you. But the way he said it—like it was some neatly wrapped box he was placing you in—made you want to tear it apart, to prove him wrong.

Before you could think better of it, your hand darted forward, taking the cigarette from his fingers. You brought it to your lips, ignoring the way his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

You’d never smoked before. You didn’t even know how.

“There she is,” Joel murmured, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite name. Amusement? Pride?

You inhaled—a shallow, unsteady puff—and immediately started coughing, your lungs burning as the bitter taste filled your mouth. It was disgusting. How did people do this?

Joel laughed, his deep, rumbling chuckle filling the space around you. He reached out, taking the cigarette back from your hand, his fingers brushing yours briefly. “You’re doin’ it all wrong,” he said, shaking his head.

He turned then, leaning his back against the glass fence so he was facing you now. The moonlight cast soft shadows on his face, illuminating the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He brought the cigarette to his mouth, taking a slow drag before holding it out to you again.

This time, he held it himself, the cigarette poised just near your lips.

“Open,” he said softly, his voice low and coaxing.

You hesitated, your gaze darting between his eyes and the cigarette.

“Trust me,” Joel murmured, his tone steady, almost reassuring.

You parted your lips slightly, and he brought the cigarette closer, his gaze fixed intently on you.

“Don’t suck too hard,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just take it in, real slow. Let it fill your mouth—don’t pull it into your lungs yet.”

You did as he said, the smoke sitting in your mouth, bitter and unfamiliar.

“Now,” Joel said, his eyes locked on yours, “open your lips, and breathe in—just enough to pull it in.”

You followed his instructions, the smoke slipping into your lungs, and this time, you didn’t cough as hard. It still burned, still tasted terrible, but the way Joel watched you—his dark eyes steady, his fingers grazing your lips as he held the cigarette for you—made it impossible to care.

“There ya go,” he said casually, as if any part of this was remotely normal. Like teaching your babysitter to smoke on the patio while his wife was upstairs was just another thing he did on a quiet night at home.

Your stomach churned as the reality of it settled over you. You could practically picture Mrs. Miller lying in their bedroom, her nightgown elegant but undoubtedly sexy, waiting for Joel to come to bed. The thought twisted something inside you, sharp and uncomfortable.

“So,” Joel said, turning to face the pool again, leaning his elbows on the glass fence as he took another drag. His broad shoulders caught the moonlight, his profile sharp and impossibly handsome. “What’s the verdict?”

You stood still for a moment, the cigarette’s taste lingering bitterly in your mouth. “Still tastes like shit,” you murmured before you could stop yourself.

The word hung in the air, and your stomach dropped. Shit. You’d just sworn in front of your employer. What were you thinking?

But Joel didn’t seem to care. He chuckled, the sound low and rich, curling in the air like the smoke he exhaled. Even his laugh had that same effortless charm, like he owned the moment and everything in it.

“Honest,” he said, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “I like that.”

Your cheeks burned under his gaze, and you shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. The tension between you hummed quietly, the line between right and wrong blurring as Joel took another drag, his movements slow and deliberate.

You glanced down at your watch, the small hands ticking closer to midnight. It was late—too late. You had class in the morning, and the thought of dragging yourself out of bed at sunrise felt impossible.

“I should really get going,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the quiet night air.

Joel straightened at your words, as though he’d momentarily forgotten that you weren’t here entirely by choice. His gaze flicked to you, something unspoken flashing in his eyes before he nodded.

“Right,” he said, his voice low.

He took another slow drag from the cigarette, the ember glowing faintly in the dark, before he dropped it onto the smooth patio floor. With a deliberate motion, he pressed it out under the sole of his expensive shoes. The sight of it—a crushed, smoldering stub against the pristine tiles—felt jarring, out of place.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to pick it up, to toss it into the trash where it belonged. The mess, the casual carelessness of it, gnawed at you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Sorry about the swans,” Joel said, his tone almost light, but the faint smirk on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Those bastards are hiding from us.”

You managed a small smile, more out of politeness than anything else, as he turned toward the door. His broad frame seemed to block out the light spilling from the house as you followed him back inside, the air between you thick with the unspoken weight of the evening.

Your footsteps echoed softly on the hardwood floors as you made your way to the entryway. The house felt too quiet now, too big, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something irreversible had shifted in the space between you and Joel.

He held the door open for you again, the faint scent of smoke and cologne still clinging to him, and for a brief moment, you hesitated—caught between leaving and the strange pull that kept you rooted to the spot.

“Drive safe,” Joel said, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering on you just a little too long.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice almost a whisper.

And as you stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you felt heavier than it should have—like a quiet ending to something you weren’t entirely sure how to name.

[danacaptus]

Neglectful but clingy nagi?!?

neglectful nagi, fem reader

Nagi who ignores reader all the day and then calls her just to cuddle

Nagi who gets annoyed when reader doesn't wants to cuddle:(

His eyes were glued to the screen as he played, his headphones blasting at full volume. His eyelids were getting heavy, and the game was starting to feel boring so after winning the match, he logged out and stood up from his chair. His body moved automatically, ready to plop onto the bed, but he stopped when something felt… off—like he didn’t want to lay down in that lonely, cold bed. It was an unfamiliar feeling, like something was missing.

He tried hard to figure it out—well, as hard as Nagi could force himself to think—until it finally hit him. You, obviously! He needed to cuddle with his little girlfriend to sleep comfortably. But where were you? You were usually already in bed by the time he finished gaming. What a hassle... He sighed; now he had to go look for you when all he wanted was to sleep.

Dragging his feet, Nagi stepped out of your shared bedroom and found you on the couch, watching some random Netflix series. He stood there quietly, expecting you to notice him. Surely you’d realize he was done gaming and ready to sleep. But you barely glanced at him before turning your attention back to the TV, ignoring his presence. That was weird. Normally, you’d be the one eagerly dragging him to bed. But well, if subtlety didn’t work, he’d just have to be direct.

“Let’s go to sleep,”

You didn’t respond, and the room was filled with the voices from the TV. That was even weirder. You were always the talkative one.

“Hey—”

“This is the best part! I’ll go in a bit,” you interrupted, eyes still glued to the screen. He blinked, surprised by your response but mostly annoyed. He was tired, and you preferred to watch some stupid show? What a hassle. Sighing, he sat down next to you on the couch. Fine, he’d wait. Well, Technically he was waiting, But expecting patience was exaggerating, patience wasn’t exactly Nagi’s thing. He kept nudging you, mumbling for you to come to bed, but you didn’t seem to hear him—or worse, you were ignoring him.

Nagi was a man of few words, few expressions, and very little energy. You weren't hearing? What a hassle; usually, you’d jump up and follow him to bed without hesitation. But this situation isn't difficult to solve! Sneakily, he grabbed the TV remote that was sitting next to you and, without warning, turned the TV off.

“Hey!” Your head snapped toward him as the screen went black during the most exciting moment (well, at least for you that was exciting). “Why did you do that?!”

You reached for the remote, but he held it out of your grasp. Ignoring your protests. “stop being a hassle, that show’s boring. Let’s go to bed.”

He grabbed your wrist—not tightly, but firmly enough to keep you from escaping and started dragging you off the couch. “Nagi! Turn it back on! It was the best part!” you whined, struggling against him even when you knew it was pointless; you knew your fate, your giant, sleepy boyfriend crushing you in bed. You groaned as he pulled you into the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed like a pillow before crawling on top of you. His head rested on your chest, arms wrapped securely around you.

“Such a hassle,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

You sighed, reluctantly accepting your fate, though your mind was still so busy replaying what had just happened in the series that you barely noticed when Nagi whispered “Goodnight,” or that you didn’t hug him back, so he cracked one eye open, staring at you. What were you doing? Where was the usual response? The cuddle? He groaned.

“Hey. Say it back.” He took your hand, placing it on his head, and wrapped your other arm around him

“What?” you asked, blinking down at him. “I said goodnight,” he repeated, voice muffled against your chest.

You would be lying if you said that finally cuddling with him after he ignored you the whole day didn't make you even a little bit happy, but you couldn’t help scoffing. “You ignored me all day, and now you’re forcing me to cuddle-”

��Say it.”

“…Ugh, goodnight,” you finally muttered, closing your eyes.

Nagi hummed in satisfaction, finally comfortable enough to drift off to sleep, while you were left scheming how soon you could finish your series tomorrow.

Dividers by @lil-liaa , @bernardsbendystraws

[whizzing-fizzbee]

I Love You, It's Ruining My Life

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (profanity, smut, adult themes) Words: 16,004 Themes: ex-lovers, rekindled romance, failed marriages, unhappy marriages, post-Hogwarts, adulthood, cheating, infidelity, jealousy, pregnancy, mild violence, language, smut, happy ending

Summary: You were supposed to be happily married to your handsome and successful husband. You most certainly were not supposed to think about your ex-boyfriend, Sebastian Sallow. After all, it's been five years since you broke up amid your graduation from Hogwarts. But when your husband surprises you with the announcement you're moving to Feldcroft, you despair over your new neighbors.

Notes: This was obviously inspired by Taylor Swift's "Fortnight." I debated with myself about including any smut with this, so I wrote it in such a way that you, the reader, can choose. Part I is the story. Part II is a smutty epilogue, which you can skip if you'd like. Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Part I: Turned Into Good Neighbors

“Darling? Are you home?”

You looked up from your novel at the sound of your husband’s voice calling from the kitchen. It was a quarter past 6 p.m. and you made a mental note that he was an hour late.

“In here,” you called, ensuring your tone didn’t expose your annoyance. He was a good man, you told yourself, and he worked long, hard hours to provide you with a nice life.

“Ah, there you are,” Oliver said as he appeared in the doorway. You smiled up at him as he approached to plant a kiss on your forehead, his usual greeting. The next step in this routine was for you to ask him how his day went, and then he’d sit down and tell you everything he did at work for the next 20 minutes.

But today was different, and while you usually welcomed change, this was a bigger surprise than you had bargained for.

“I have news,” Oliver declared. You decided his gaze looked more excited than concerned, so the tense manner in which your posture had straightened relaxed, but just slightly.

“News?” you repeated. “What is it?”

“I bought us a new cottage,” Oliver revealed excitedly. You couldn’t help but blink at him.

“A new cottage?”

“Yes, in a quaint little hamlet in the Highlands,” Oliver said. “Far away from the bustle of the city.”

“And we’re going to live there?” you asked.

“Aye, we are,” Oliver said. “I can simply floo to the Ministry for work every day. And we can apparate or floo back here to London any time we want.”

He spoke as if it were the most simple, obvious decision in the world, but your stomach twisted into knots. 

“We’re moving to the Highlands,” you repeated. The faint twitch in Oliver’s jaw indicated he was growing annoyed with the way you were repeating his words, but you were having a difficult time processing such a significant revelation.

London had been your home for the past five years, two of which you spent living with Oliver in your home together. Though city living wasn’t your dream, you’d established your roots there with friends and a life that kept you occupied. The Scottish Highlands would be vastly different from this life, especially since you hadn’t been there since your Hogwarts days.

“Look, I know this is sudden and that I’ve surprised you,” Oliver said, his tone steady and gentle. “But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? You’ve always said London doesn’t suit you and that you miss the Highlands. Now’s our chance to take advantage of that. It’s a perfect opportunity.”

It was true, you missed the Highlands. They were nostalgic to you, a reminder of your years as a student. Your life had been defined and shaped by the adventures you had across the Highlands’ hamlets, the good and the bad. You missed the people, the peace, the picturesque landscape and the slower pace of it all.

But you hadn’t asked to move there. You didn’t tell your husband you were intent on leaving your perfectly content life to buy a new home and make new friends.

“The cottage is lovely,” Oliver continued boastfully. “Or at least it will be. I got a fantastic deal on it because it requires some minor repairs and renovations. We’ll be able to put our own personal touch on it.”

You didn’t want to fight with Oliver. Your marriage had been rocky, to put it lightly, and the two of you were presently in a good place. You hadn’t had a fight in weeks, and it made you hopeful that your turbulent days were behind you. 

So in order to keep the peace, you flashed a smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes. After all, Oliver was the one working to create a life for you both, together. 

“It sounds lovely,” you said. “Which hamlet is it?”

“A brilliant little place to the south of Hogwarts,” Oliver said proudly. “Feldcroft.”

One month later

The spring air felt clean and refreshing against your skin the moment you emerged from the floo flames. It was a stark contrast to the heavy, dirty London air that clouded your lungs and made your eyes occasionally burn.

It was new, yet so familiar, you instantly felt the memories beginning to stir. You gazed around the hamlet, which looked largely unchanged since the last time you visited years back. Some of the cottages looked older, worn by time and the harsh, salty sea air that carried in from the coast. Other buildings were new, including a row of three small shops that hadn’t been there before.

The wood lookout tower was still there, looking weathered and rickety now. The recollection of the first time you visited Feldcroft surged immediately.

You flew there from Hogwarts when you were fifteen on a quiet Saturday morning to visit your friend, Sebastian, and his sister, Anne. The events of that first day remained vivid, but not as sharp or as provoking as the events that occurred the last day you were there.

You could still remember the smell of the Feldcroft catacombs, damp and deadly. You could hear the raucous echoes of spells ricocheting off the walls, the hiss of the inferi that circled you, and the cries of despair when Anne Sallow found her uncle’s body. You could still see the blinding green light that erupted from Sebastian’s wand the moment he changed everything.

“Darling?”

Oliver’s voice yanked you from your memories. The thoughts had left you winded, your palms sweaty and your mouth dry.

“Sorry, what?” you asked, turning to meet Oliver’s concerned gaze.

“I said, are you ready? Our cottage is just this way.”

“Oh, right. Of course. Sorry, I was just… feeling nostalgic,” you laughed, flashing a smile for good measure.

“Ah, I’ll bet,” Oliver said as he offered you his arm to guide you through the hamlet. He began rattling off every fact he could find about Feldcroft and its history, as if you weren’t well versed in the events that had happened there during your teenage years, as if you didn’t have your own history with the town.

But as he rambled, you could feel your heart beginning to pound in your chest as that particular cottage came into view. You swallowed as it drew nearer, your eyes scanning it carefully for signs of life.

It was mostly unchanged from the last time you saw it. Flower boxes hung from the windows now and you noticed a row of pink rose bushes in the front. There were new wood shutters flanking the windows and the door was painted a deep shade of green.

It looked lovely as ever, but the memories tied to it clouded your head with dread. 

“Are- are we nearly there?” you asked, interrupting Oliver’s explanation of the hamlet’s first inhabitants.

“Just about,” he replied. “It’s just ahead, over there.”

Panic surged through your body, rising in your chest and blooming through your limbs as you realized how close you were coming to that cottage. Your feet suddenly felt as if they were carrying lead, the thud of each step reverberating in your brain.

“That one, right there,” Oliver said, gesturing toward your cottage as you passed the well at the center of town.

No. No way. Surely, not.

But Oliver steered you closer and closer until that cottage was in front of you. You passed it, your heart slamming in your chest as you snuck a glance toward the front window, before Oliver stopped outside the cottage next door.

“Here we are!” he said happily. “Home sweet home!”

You recognized this cottage, too. It belonged to a nice vendor named Bernard Ndiyae back when you were fifteen. It appeared worn down now, clearly having been vacant for years, but it looked cozy.

“Well?” Oliver’s voice said in your ear as you realized he had been watching you closely for a reaction. “What do you think?”

You made a careful point not to glance at the home next door, its rose bushes threatening you with thorns in spite of their beauty. Instead, you smiled up at Oliver and squeezed his hand.

“It’s perfect.”

---

The cottage certainly did need work, but thanks to some useful conjuration and transfiguration spells you learned from Professor Weasley, you had the house looking like a home in no time.

The fireplace now crackled with warmth thanks to repairs to the cracked chimney, the dusty wood floors were restored to a fresh gleam, and the kitchen was clean and functional.

You spent your first three days decidedly confined inside the cottage, working to put your own touches on the interior. It was necessary work, not just for the sake of your home, but for the preservation of your sanity.

You didn’t dare go outside. You didn’t even cast a peek out the window toward the next door neighbor’s house. Not until one morning, four days after you moved in, to begin your work on fixing the cottage’s exterior.

Oliver had taken a few days off from work to help with the house, which you appreciated. He had been putting in 10-hour work days, so you enjoyed his company while you had it. 

That morning, he badgered you to join him outside so the two of you could decide what to do with the landscaping and garden, and what color to paint the front door. You begrudgingly agreed, blaming your allergies when Oliver called you out on your reluctance.

When you stepped outside, you couldn’t help but appreciate the warmth of the sunlight that seemed to breathe new life into you after spending days inside that dusty house.

But your euphoria was quickly quashed by the sound of splashing water. 

“Oh! Hello!” a cheery voice said from the direction you had been desperate to avoid.

You held your breath as you turned to the source, your gaze falling on a pretty blonde woman who was watering the rose bushes in front of thatcottage. She appeared to be about your same age, though she was noticeably shorter and very pregnant. 

“Hello,” Oliver said, making long, quick strides toward the short fence separating your homes as he kept one hand gently placed at the small of your back.

“Welcome!” the woman said, the high pitch of her voice already grating on your nerves. She smiled warmly at you, but something about her gaze unsettled you. “We were wondering when we’d get to meet our new neighbors. I’m Wendy.” 

You and Oliver introduced yourselves as Wendy finished watering her roses. “I’m afraid my husband’s at work,” Wendy continued. “But you’ll meet him soon enough.”

Soon enough. You couldn’t be certain, but somehow you just knew you wouldn’t need an introduction.

“Have you lived here long?” you asked carefully.

“Oh, I’ve only lived here for a couple of years, since we got married,” Wendy explained. “But my husband has lived here since he was a boy. He inherited the cottage from his late uncle.”

The air immediately left your lungs and you began racking your brain for any excuse to retreat inside your cottage and never leave again. Better yet, an excuse to leave Feldcroft and never return again.

Instead, Oliver took control of the conversation to sing Feldcroft’s places and to dote his historical knowledge on Wendy, who appeared too polite to not listen. 

How could this possibly happen? How did you end up back here, in this hamlet where your history was tainted by some of your worst memories? How did you end up living next door to the boy who had dragged you to Hell and back, only to clip your wings when you thought you’d reached Heaven? Most important, how were you ever going to possibly face him again?

It would be inevitable and anything but easy. It never was with him.

“You two will have to come over for dinner soon,” Wendy continued. “Sebastian would love to meet you.”

There it was. That name. His name. It wasn’t easy to hear it five years ago and it wasn’t easy now. Sure, you’d moved on and were perfectly content with the life you’d built with the husband you loved, but the past, those memories, still twisted your stomach into knots that left you winded.

There was something about the notion that he had moved on too that produced a pang in your chest that left you stricken by guilt and shame. Of course he moved on. He was the one who ended things with you, citing your different paths in life as you prepared for your futures outside of Hogwarts. That reason hadn’t been good enough for you, but you knew holding a grudge against your teenage boyfriend was senseless and unbecoming. 

Now, you’d be living next door to him and his beautiful wife who seemed to radiate in ways you never could. Of course he found someone who was the epitome of human sunshine, a staggering contradiction to you. You were intense, prone to moody bouts of cynicism and warring convictions. You weren’t the type to light up a room or charm your way into the hearts of all who crossed your path. You were a lot, yet it seemed Sebastian had found someone who managed to be much more, but in all the right ways.

But propriety was important and you had a husband who was trying to make you happy. He bought you this cottage with the hope of returning you to a world you once loved, though you knew it was also his ploy to silence all of your recent arguments.

So instead of hexing Wendy Sallow into the next century, you forced a kind smile.

“That’d be lovely,” you said, your voice taking on a sickly sweet pitch of too much enthusiasm. “Please let me know if I can bring anything.”

“Wonderful,” Wendy cooed. “Well, I should get inside. Time to start working on dinner.”

She bid you farewell and you watched as she retreated inside that cottage that had once welcomed you. Even several months pregnant, she moved with a level of dainty grace that made your lip curl. You wanted to drown her in a lake.

“Well, she seems nice,” Oliver commented once she was gone. You nodded silently. “It’s nice to know our neighbors are friendly people. Perhaps we’ll be able to get to know them more.”

“Perhaps,” you said, praying your steady tone would drown out the silent screams ringing inside your skull.

---

Despite the tension you felt every time you stepped outside your cottage, you couldn’t help but ease into a comforting routine in Feldcroft. It was peaceful there, and the inhabitants lived at a much more pleasant pace than bustling London. You liked it there, but you also hadn’t run into the reason you’d avoided the hamlet in the first place.

One morning, you visited the store to pick up some items for dinner while Oliver was at work. It was warm outside and you enjoyed a slow stroll home with your groceries, the scent of spring easing your posture.

As you reached your front door, you fumbled in your pockets for your keys when a familiar voice greeted you.

“Hello.”

You froze. Did he realize it was you? Was there time to scurry inside your cottage before he figured it out? Perhaps you could apparate on the spot and never return.

It was all so deranged. You were a hero at one point in your life. You saved Hogwarts during a goblin rebellion, not to mention the countless creatures you freed from poachers and the dark wizards you defeated. You were anything but a coward, but one stupid man made you that way.

Slowly, you lifted your head to turn and meet his gaze. He froze, too, as you watched the recognition settle in his eyes.

“Hello, Sebastian,” you said quietly. There was no edge to your tone, nor was there any fondness. You were simply greeting him as cordial neighbors do.

If you hadn’t been wondering if you were going to be sick on your own front steps, you might have actually taken glee in Sebastian’s reaction. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, the color drained from his freckled cheeks as he struggled for words.

“I… you… It’s you,” he finally managed. You pressed your tongue into the roof of your mouth to stifle a snort. How very unromantic it all felt after all these years – you, fumbling your house keys and Sebastian, void of any coherent sentences. The two of you seemed as awkward and unrefined as your 15-year-old selves.

“It’s me,” you replied, and you couldn’t help but offer him a smile.

You knew this moment was coming, so you had spent the past week mentally preparing for it. You vowed to endure it with dignity. No hard feelings, no familiar longing or spite. You were going to handle it with class and poise, the way you always took care of business. That’s all this was anyway, right? It wasn’t personal. You and Sebastian hadn’t been personal in years. You were neighbors now, and neighborly relations could be handled as strictly business.

You tried not to stare too long. He was still youthful, but his boyish features had sharpened into handsome angles. You could see traces of stubble casting a faint shadow along his jawline, which was more defined. His skin remained freckled and his hair was still disheveled, an indication that the same Sebastian still lingered inside him.

“You’re my new neighbor?” he asked, still looking alarmed.

“I’m afraid so.”

An anguishing silence fell between you, but you were determined to force him to speak first. Maybe it was immature and petty, but you had decided to let Sebastian determine how far your new relationship as neighbors would go.

“My wife… my wife told me she met the new neighbors but she didn’t mention names,” Sebastian continued. “She didn’t mention it was anyone I knew.”

“I figured I’d let you decide if she needed to know that information,” you said simply. It was true. It wasn’t your place to reveal your past with Sebastian. He should be the one to tell Wendy, if he even wanted to. “If you’d rather pretend we’ve only just met, I’ll fully understand,” you added.

Sebastian couldn’t begin to compute how to relay your connection to Wendy – he was still stuck on the fact you were even there in the first place.

“How… why…” he started. Even after all these years, you could read him.

“My husband,” you answered without waiting on him to ask questions. “He bought this cottage without telling me. Wanted to get out of London. I had no idea until he brought me here.”

Sebastian didn’t respond as he mulled over your words, clearly unsure of what to say. His eyes were determinedly avoiding you, as if looking at you would expose all your shared secrets to everyone in Feldcroft.

“Your wife is lovely,” you offered in an attempt to facilitate the conversation. 

“Oh. Yes, she is,” Sebastian mumbled stupidly.

“When is your baby due?”

“Two months.”

“Is it your first child?”

“Yes.”

Another silence emerged and you couldn’t help but eye Sebastian with the faintest air of amusement. The Sebastian you had known could rarely keep his mouth shut. This Sebastian seemed unable to speak in complete sentences.

“Look,” you said, your tone shifting to something much more pointed and serious. “I know this is bizarre. Believe me, I would never have agreed to move here had I known. But maybe we can both just pretend like the past doesn’t exist and get a fresh start.” Sebastian frowned but said nothing in protest, so you continued. “My husband doesn’t know anything about us - our past. He only knows that I used to spend time in Feldcroft during my Hogwarts days. We don’t have to tell them. We can be strangers turned neighbors.”

Still no response from Sebastian. His abnormal silence was making you nervous, yet annoyed. After all this time and all he had put you through, surely the least he could do was acknowledge your words with civility.

Finally, his eyes met yours, though they were difficult to read.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, sending you deeper into your unsettled state. “I-I’ve always wondered how you were doing, how you ended up.”

You weren’t prepared for that. Though he was likely just being polite, you hadn’t expected him to admit to thinking about you. 

“I’m doing just fine,” you said, unsure who you were trying to convince. “Looks like you are as well.”

Sebastian nodded carefully. “You said you came from London. Are you… did you end up becoming an auror?”

The question was innocent enough, but it made your stomach twist and your eyes drop to the ground in shame. “No,” you said, taking care to keep your tone neutral. “I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“What about you? I remember you wanting to be a curse breaker.”

Sebastian nodded. “I was in Egypt for a year, now I travel for work, mostly curse breaking cases within a hundred-mile radius.”

Despite your past differences and old wounds, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for him. He had been so remorseful for the mistakes he made during your fifth year, you were happy to see his success in spite of it all.

“And Anne?”

“She’s still with us,” Sebastian said with a faint smile. “She lives at a care facility owned and operated by St. Mungo’s. They keep her comfortable there and she’s made good friends.”

“And Ominis?”

“Still the same old Ominis.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of your mutual friend. “He works at the Ministry. Part of the Wizengamot.”

“Ominis, a purveyor of justice? How original,” you quipped. 

Sebastian barked a laugh, the sound beckoning you with nostalgia. “I reckon Ominis felt the need to make up for… well, you know,” he said.

Of course you knew. You and Ominis covered for Sebastian when he killed his uncle. It was you who had convinced Ominis not to turn Sebastian in, and Ominis in turn convinced Anne to protect her brother. 

“Good for him,” you said, still smiling at the thought of Ominis Gaunt sitting in court. It certainly suited him. It also made you miss him.

You had tried to maintain your friendship with Ominis beyond your seventh year, but it became collateral damage as your turbulent relationship with Sebastian splintered. 

“Your husband,” Sebastian finally said. “Is… is he home?”

“Oliver. His name is Oliver. He’s at work,” you answered. “He works for the Ministry as well. In the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

Sebastian tilted his head. “I’m surprised Wendy didn’t recognize him,” he said. “She works at the Ministry as a receptionist, though she mainly just sees Ministry visitors, not employees.”

“Oliver comes and goes a lot,” you said with a shrug. “They have him traveling quite a bit.”

“Makes sense.”

You could feel the conversation reaching a conclusion, or at least you hoped that was the case. Sebastian’s eyes continued to linger on you and you prayed he blamed your red cheeks on the sun. 

When several moments ticked by with no spoken words, you cleared your throat.

“Well, I’d better get this food inside,” you said, hoping your tone sounded more pleasant than nauseous.

“Right.” Sebastian shifted from one foot to the other, his hands shoved inside his pockets. “Er, I’ll see you around then.”

“Sure, see you around, Sebastian. It was, um, nice to meet you.”

“Right. Nice to meet you, too.”

Once you were inside your cottage, you slammed the door shut, your back pressed against it to catch your breath, your satchel of groceries forgotten on the floor.

Seeing him shouldn’t affect you like this. You were married. He was married. You shouldn’t feel a thing toward him, not after five years and the pain he inflicted on you during your breakup.

You should hate him.

By the time Oliver arrived home, you were in a sour mood, annoyed he was late again and mentally drained from your reunion with Sebastian. The dinner you made had grown cold from waiting for Oliver, leaving you to pick at your plate void of any appetite.

Oliver could sense the tension but tactfully chose to keep to himself. After dinner, he retired to his office to read, leaving you to clear the table.

What you really needed was to clear your mind.

Still fuming over Oliver’s tardiness, you flicked your wand to send the dinner dishes sailing toward the sink where they clattered audibly. Without acknowledging your husband, you pulled a sweater on and slipped outside, the door shutting behind you with a quiet creak.

You knew exactly where you were headed. It was the same place you and Sebastian frequented as teenagers to watch the stars when you were bored at night. You climbed the lookout tower, only slightly wary of the way it creaked and groaned beneath your footsteps to the top. When you reached it, you froze.

“Sebastian?”

“Heard you coming,” he replied. “Thought it might be you.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll go-”

“Stay,” he said quietly. “I assume you need to clear your mind about something. That’s the only reason anyone comes up here anymore.”

“I… yeah,” was all you could manage.

Sebastian gestured to a wood crate that sat opposite him. Years earlier, the two of you would sit on the floor of the tower, your legs dangling over the ledge as you gazed across the Feldcroft region’s landscape.

Your eyes scanned the view for the first time in years. Dusk was darkening the sky, but the scene appeared mostly unchanged. It comforted you, despite the unsettling company sitting across from you.

Neither of you said anything at first. What could you possibly say? You squirmed in your seat, silently willing Sebastian to be the first to break the silence. It was torture, because you wanted to be angry at him; instead, you were merely desperate to talk to him.

“What are you really doing here?” he finally asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Did your husband really just surprise you with a cottage in Feldcroft and force you to pack up and move here?”

You frowned at him, anxious that he might believe that you moved there for him. But you were also afraid to tell him the truth, to spill your personal troubles so quickly after your reunion.

“He really did,” you sighed. “But I suspect he has ulterior motives than simply trying to make me happy.”

It was Sebastian’s turn to frown. “Isn’t that what a husband is supposed to do – make his wife happy?”

“Is that what you do?”

“Of course.”

How lucky for Wendy.

“Well, I suppose he just wanted an escape from London,” you finally said with a shrug, prompting another lengthy silence.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Sebastian suddenly said. When you looked up, you noticed he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, his eyes had fallen on something distant, likely nothing in particular at all.

“Trust me, neither can I,” you breathed with a faint chuckle.

“I can’t believe it’s already been five years since we graduated and since we... broke up.”

“Feels like yesterday in many ways, yet also feels like a lifetime ago,” you said simply. 

Sebastian finally turned his gaze to you, studying you with a curiosity that made you straighten your posture and hold your breath.

“So what have you been up to then?” he asked. “You mentioned you’re not an auror, so what are you?”

Your face fell. How could you possibly answer that with any dignity? The truth was shameful and, knowing Sebastian, he’d be disappointed in you. But you married Oliver, not Sebastian, and your husband’s opinion mattered more. 

“I’m… not much of anything,” you finally admitted. There was no use lying to Sebastian. “I don’t work. Oliver takes care of me.” Sebastian hummed a response that ignited your defenses. “What?” you demanded rather sharply.

“Nothing,” Sebastian replied simply. “I’m just surprised, is all. You never struck me as the housewife type.”

“And why not?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Sebastian chuckled. “Wendy’s probably going to quit her reception job and stay home once the baby arrives. The hours can be erratic and she doesn't like the work. It’s just… you always struck me as being different.”

“Different how?”

Sebastian shrugged. “You were the only person I’d ever met who was more stubborn and daring than me,” he answered. “You were always off on some adventure, saving or helping someone in need. You could never sit still and relax. You were always keen to use your magic for good. Just surprises me to hear you prefer to stay home.”

You bit your tongue. It wasn’t that you preferred to be a housewife. You wanted to become an auror, to do exactly what Sebastian had said - to use your ancient magic for good and to prevent more dark wizards from hurting anyone else. You had been well on your way, too. The Ministry had accepted your application to its auror division, but then you met Oliver.

Oliver preferred you to stay home and allow him to take care of you. He promised you invitations to elite social events and that you’d never have to worry about finances, not that you cared about those things. When you told him you wanted to work, he gave you an ultimatum, and you were in no place to turn down such a favorable marriage prospect. 

You’d be more willing to stay home if you had children to take care of, but it wasn’t until after your wedding that Oliver made it clear he wasn’t interested in starting a family. You were crushed by the revelation, but clung to hope that someday he’d change his mind.

“Staying home just works better for Oliver and me,” you said quietly. You were afraid to meet Sebastian’s gaze, because you knew he’d see through that excuse. That was the terrifying, yet thrilling part of being near Sebastian – he read you like the hundreds of books in his collection. 

“But you’d rather be working,” Sebastian said carefully.

“Of course. You can take the woman from the duel, but you can’t take the duel out of the woman.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smirk. Merlin, that smirk was still there and it still made your insides melt.

“Why don’t you tell him you want to work?” he asked.

“Why don’t you mind your business?” you retorted. Your eyes widened the moment the words left your lips. Horrified at your lapse in decorum, you hastily apologized.

But this was Sebastian, and he knew your true wit and grit better than anyone. He barked a laugh. “I knew that scrappy spirit was still in there somewhere,” he said, his tone carrying an old fondness that made your heart ache.

But you couldn’t allow Sebastian to reel you back in, even if he wasn’t trying to do so. He had hurt you and you’d likely never forget it.

Sure, you recovered from the heartbreak, but you still remembered the way it made you feel. That memory dictated every relationship you had since Sebastian, including your decision to marry Oliver. You chose the safe bet, the one that wouldn’t make you feel that level of heartache ever again.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snapped. “At least not anymore.”

Sebastian flinched at your tone. “I suppose that’s true,” he said with a frown. “And I suppose I deserve your hostility.”

“I’m not hostile-”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian cut you off with the wave of a hand. “I know I didn’t treat you all that great back then. I messed up bad and I’ve never forgiven myself for it.”

You paused, taken aback by his vulnerable admission. You hadn’t expected that from him, not when you’d only reconnected hours ago. You had assumed he had spent the past five years without giving you another thought.

“It’s not something worth fretting over,” you finally said, hoping your tone was gentler. “I mean, it all worked out in the end for the both of us, right?”

“Right,” Sebastian agreed, his eyes returning to the distant landscape. “But still, you didn’t deserve the way I treated you, or the way I broke things off.”

“Sebastian, we were eighteen,” you said, your lighthearted tone betraying the hurt you’d carried inside your chest for five years. “We were both young and dumb. A relationship like that was always going to be fleeting.”

“Still, I’ve never felt good about how we left things and I’m sorry for it. I've missed you terribly.”

It felt like something in the atmosphere had shifted, like that apology had been the missing piece to the puzzle of your past five years. But the weight that should have lifted off your shoulders pressed down harder when Sebastian’s gaze met yours again. His apology should have set you free with closure and loosened the ties that bound you to your past. Instead, it made you long for it.

“You don’t need to apologize, but I appreciate it,” you said, offering him a reassuring smile. “And I must say, this is the strangest second chance fate has ever handed me.”

“Too true,” Sebastian laughed. “It’d be a shame to waste it.”

You swallowed, willing yourself to have the strength to forgive Sebastian and the resolve to allow him back into your life, even just as your next door neighbor. 

“Then we won’t,” you said confidently. “It would be nice to have a friend in Feldcroft… again.”

Sebastian’s signature smirk returned as he appeared relieved by the olive branch you’d extended. “Hopefully this time around we’ll have a little less death and destruction.”

“Oh, where’s the fun in that?” you teased. “What’s a few more ruined lives?”

---

In the weeks that followed, you and Oliver settled nicely into life in Feldcroft. You found ways to keep yourself busy while he was at work and the other villagers eventually grew to recognize and greet you as one of their own.

You also became friendly with Sebastian and Wendy, though the sight of them together made your eyes darken and your stomach lurch.

You came to understand their routine, too. Sebastian would disappear for work, sometimes for several days at a time, leaving Wendy to tend to the cottage and water her stupid rose bushes when she returned home from work in the evenings. Sometimes she'd stop you for a chat, asking you about your day. You couldn't help but feel judged for the way you'd tell her about your trips to the store or the long walks you'd take. You wondered if she judged you for being a housewife, though she never made any disparaging remarks. Still, it made you want to poison her stupid rose bushes.

It wasn’t fair, the way you longed for her demise, and you knew it. Wendy seemed like a perfectly nice woman who had simply been lucky enough to win Sebastian over. The important thing was that she made Sebastian happy, or so you assumed. You couldn’t imagine they’d be expecting a child together if they were unhappy.

But one evening, your curiosity piqued as you left your cottage for the produce stand on the edge of town. As you locked the door, the sounds of shouts echoed from Sebastian’s home. You froze, your ears focused on the voices. One was clearly Wendy’s, the other’s presumably Sebastian’s. You didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you also wanted to ensure no one was in danger.

Quietly, you lingered beside Wendy’s stupid rose bush, your ears still straining to listen. Wendy’s anger was evident in the shrill pitch of her voice, but you couldn’t make out all the words – just something along the lines of, “What kind of father…”

No. You shook your head and forced yourself to continue your route to the shop. Sebastian and Wendy’s disagreements were none of your business.

But as you reached the path that connected your cottage to the remainder of the town, the sharp bang of a slamming door made you jump. You spun and spotted Sebastian storming out of his cottage, his expression contorted in frustration. He froze when he spotted you, his posture becoming less rigid.

You cursed under your breath as Sebastian approached. Should you admit you’d overheard anything? Should you play dumb? Would he think you were eavesdropping on purpose?

“Need some company?” he asked.

“Oh. I- er… sure. I was just walking to the produce stand. Need some carrots,” you replied. Sebastian merely nodded, his jawline looking taut as he gestured for you to continue walking.

“So I suppose you couldn’t help but overhear all that,” he said as he fell into step next to you.

“Sebastian, it’s none of my business-”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian continued. “We just argue like that sometimes. I say something stupid that Wendy doesn’t like and it escalates into a shouting match.”

“You, say something stupid? Never.” You cast a nervous glance at Sebastian, hoping your jest didn’t upset him more. His lips curved into a small smile.

“I guess you’ve been in Wendy’s shoes a few times, haven’t you? And I was the one who put you there,” he said quietly.

“Sebastian, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know. I just…” he sighed, his eyes shifting upward as if the answers to his problems were spelled in the sky. “I just wish Wendy understood my past.”

“Does she know… about Solomon?” you asked carefully. Sebastian shook his head.

“No. She only knows he died when I was fifteen.”

“Oh.”

“She doesn’t understand why…” Sebastian squeezed his eyes closed for a fleeting moment, willing the words to surface. “She doesn’t understand why I’m afraid to be a father.”

You let his statement settle before you gazed at him with empathy. “Does she know about your parents?” you asked.

“Yes. She knows. Honestly, my frustration with her isn’t even her lack of understanding, considering she doesn’t know how or why Solomon died. It’s more about the hostility she shows when I try to discuss it with her. She becomes so angry and says hurtful things. It’s like she cares more about becoming a mother than she does having a happy family.”

You didn’t want to take sides in an argument that had nothing to do with you, especially when you knew one party much better than the other. But you couldn’t help but sympathize with Sebastian's situation.

Of course he was fearful about being a parent. His own died, leaving him and Anne behind at an age too young to fend for themselves. They’d left him with Solomon, a man too angry and bitter about his own life to properly care for two children. Then Anne was cursed, leaving Sebastian as the only person willing to fight for her.

Then there was Sebastian’s dark past. Though he’d worked hard to right his wrongdoings, you knew he was still bothered by them, still fearful of the sinister acts he was capable of.

Sebastian’s hesitations were fair and you understand why he had them. 

“Sebastian, you’re going to be an amazing dad,” you said assuredly. “I know your past has you scared, but you aren’t that person anymore. You can’t punish yourself forever. You deserve a good life, and so do your children.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course.” You turned your head to look him in the eye to emphasize your sincerity. “Sebastian, despite your past – and ours – you’ve always been one of the best men I know. You might be stubborn as hell, but you’re also fiercely loyal. You’re smart when you aren’t impulsive, and your intentions are always noble. You'll be a tremendous father.”

Sebastian nodded quietly as he considered your words. He wasn’t surprised you understood his concerns. You always understood. 

“I just don’t want to let anymore people down,” he said quietly.

“You won’t,” you said confidently. “You’ve learned from your mistakes, which is going to make you a great father.”

“Thank you,” he said as the two of you reached the produce cart. “For being understanding about everything. You’re the last person who should have anything nice to say about me.”

“Sebastian, we were teenagers,” you said as you tossed a bundle of carrots into your basket. 

“But I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“A favor?” You couldn’t help but snort as you paid the shopkeeper. “How was breaking up with me a favor?”

“I guess I was still punishing myself,” Sebastian replied. “I knew you were destined to do great things in a society full of lofty expectations. I thought being tied to me would bring you down.”

“A lot of good that did me,” you said, forcing an ironic laugh.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Sebastian said quietly. 

You offered him a sad smile and a gentle touch to the forearm. “It’s okay,” you said with certainty. “All water under the bridge.”

Sebastian nodded in appreciation as the two of you headed back toward your homes.

“So what about you and Oliver?” he asked. “Do the two of you plan on having children?”

You pursed your lips, unsure of how to answer. But given how Sebastian had just opened up to you about his marriage, you decided you could do the same. 

“It’s complicated,” you started. You could feel Sebastian’s eyes drift toward you with curiosity. “Oliver doesn’t want children. I didn’t know that when we got married and I haven’t been successful in changing his mind.”

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said, his voice tinged with sadness. “You’d be a wonderful mother.”

“It’s okay. I’m starting to accept it,” you said with a shrug. You didn't dare allow Sebastian to see the tears that welled in your eyes.

As you neared your cottages, Sebastian heaved a sigh. “Well, I suppose I’d better go accept my punishment,” he said, his voice laced with bitterness. He rested a gentle hand on your shoulder that lingered for a fleeting second. “Thank you for… you know.” 

You nodded in quiet, mutual understanding and offered him an encouraging smile. “Anytime.”

In the weeks that followed, Oliver’s absence became more prominent. The previous hour or so he’d turn up late after work had stretched into several hours. Once or twice, he failed to come at all and claimed he was called away on last-minute business, or was simply too exhausted and had slept in his office at the Ministry.

You had no proof, but you knew better. Your instincts told you he was with someone else, but you had no means of confirmation. Yet despite your nagging concerns over your husband’s whereabouts, your mind was more occupied with the man living next door.

Your evening rendezvous on the lookout tower with Sebastian became a frequent occurrence. When he was home and Wendy had fallen asleep, the two of you would sit on the tower together. Sometimes you’d chat the entire time, reminiscing about your Hogwarts days. Other times, you’d sit in silence for stretches and merely appreciate each other’s presence. It was nice to have a friend, even if that friend had a wife you wished would fall into a sinkhole.

One evening, you sat alone on the tower, wondering where your husband was this time. He should have been home three hours ago and you hadn’t received a word from him. 

The familiar sound of Sebastian’s tread carried up the tower’s steps and you straightened in your seat as he emerged at the top, his hands stuff casually in his pockets.

“There you are,” you greeted.

“There you are.”

Typically, your mutual greeting made you smile, but Oliver’s antics weighed heavy in your chest as you wondered what to do about him. Though you had come to accept his infidelities, you weren’t sure how to confront him without proof, and you didn’t know what that would mean for your future. 

You weren’t scared of the shame that would accompany a failed marriage – your reputation had been dragged around your entire life and you knew you’d recover. But Oliver and his rules had made it so you weren’t financially independent. Without him, you’d have no home, and you had no job to earn your own income. He had made it so that you needed him.

Sebastian recognized your tense demeanor immediately. “Something wrong?” he asked, peering downward at you in concern.

You swallowed, unsure how to reply. Sure, Sebastian was your friend again. He’d been your only friend since you moved to Feldcroft. But you weren’t sure you should reveal the latest details of your troubled marriage with him. Was it appropriate? Did he even care? Were you crossing a line?

“I’m fine,” you answered with a shrug. “Just tired is all.”

“Liar.”

You looked up in surprise. He looked concerned, yet you could see the faintest trace of smugness. He could still see through you and it was clear he enjoyed it. 

That was the toughest and easiest part of your relationship with Sebastian, even after all these years. You couldn’t keep secrets because the two of you could read each other in ways no one else could.

You heaved a sigh as you tried to decide which detail to reveal first. Sebastian seemed to understand you were struggling, so he took a seat on the crate across from you and waited patiently.

“It’s Oliver,” you started. You paused, waiting for Sebastian to interject with some kind of snarky remark, but he remained quiet, nodding at you to continue. “He’s been… pretty absent lately. He gets home from work hours late, or sometimes he doesn’t come home at all.”

“You think he has someone else,” Sebastian said blankly. 

“I don’t have proof.”

“You’re sure he isn’t simply putting extra hours in at work? Wendy does that for the extra pay. Says we could use it when the baby arrives.”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I can’t prove anything. All I have is my gut instinct.”

“And what is your instinct telling you?”

“That something isn’t right.”

Sebastian sat back, his hands resting on his knees as he considered his words carefully. “Is there a specific person in mind?” he asked. “Do you know who the other woman might be?”

“No idea. Outside of his family and me, Oliver doesn’t really spend time with anyone else. Most of his friends are through work and I don’t really know most of them.”

Sebastian exhaled slowly through his nose. You were surprised by the way his jaw seemed to twitch, a familiar tell that signaled he was trying to suppress his rage.

“You don’t deserve that,” Sebastian said quietly, his eyes wandering toward the sky that was shifting to nighttime.

“I don’t know, maybe I do,” you admitted. “It’s not like I married Oliver because he’s the love of my life. Maybe this is payback for that.”

“Why did you marry him then?” Sebastian asked sharply. 

“Because he was safe,” you answered. “And because I lost my way. I lost myself when I met him. I had grown so used to taking care of myself that I thought I wanted someone to take care of me for a change. Oliver takes care of me, even if I’m not the only woman in his life. He’ll always come back to me.”

“You deserve to be the only woman in his life. And you deserve to be with someone you genuinely love,” Sebastian said quietly.

“I guess I just didn’t get that lucky."

The revelation was a sad truth you had never admitted out loud. You were grateful for the things you had, but many people mistook your life for something glamorous. They deemed you lucky – you were born with a rare, powerful ancient magic. You were declared a hero by your school, your name famous to all who passed through Hogwarts. You married a respected man with money so that you didn’t have to work.

Nevermind the omnipresent burden you had carried since the day you learned of Isidora Morganach and the repository. Nevermind the way people stared and whispered when they recognized you. Nevermind your loveless marriage that isolated you from the friends and career you wanted. Nevermind the fact your neighbor was the only person you ever loved.

To everyone else, you had it good. For all you cared, your life peaked years ago.

Sebastian was looking at you with a deep frown, an expression you chalked up to pity. 

“So what are you going to do?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know,” was the best you could offer. “He’s made me too dependent on him to leave him. I don’t have a job. I’d have nothing, nowhere to go. I’d have to start all over.”

“Would a fresh start be all that bad?”

It was a simple question, but the answer felt heavy. It was true, you only stayed with Oliver for the convenience. The two of you were compatible enough for a pleasant relationship, but you certainly didn’t feel any overwhelming love and adoration for him.

Leaving Oliver could lead you to someone you did love properly, and vice versa. Perhaps you could start a career and build a life you felt proud of. But leaving Oliver could also mean something much worse, and being with him wasn’t the most miserable life you could dream up.

“I don’t have any proof that he’s having an affair,” you repeated. “And I can’t just leave him without reason.”

“You aren’t happy,” Sebastian pointed out. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

You wanted to agree with him. You wanted to put yourself first and give yourself the opportunity for the life you wanted – even if the one you’d always envisioned included the man sitting across from you. But you knew simply wanting a better life wasn’t enough. There were rules and expectations in your society. Leaving your husband simply due to unhappiness would blacklist you immediately. Though you didn’t care about the parties and decorum, a tarnished reputation could make life miserable. A proper divorce would require a legitimate reason.

“I’d need to catch him cheating,” you said. “I’d need a valid excuse for divorce.”

“So then let’s catch him.”

“What? How?”

“We follow him,” Sebastian said simply.

“Sebastian,” you said, your tone laced with warning and hesitation. It felt eerily reminiscent of your Hogwarts days, particularly your fifth year when the two of you were prone to risky adventures and questionable decisions. “We can’t just stalk my husband in hopes of catching him in the act.”

“Why not? We’ve done it before.”

“That was when we were children.” You couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “It was unwise tracking poachers and Ranrok’s loyalists then, and it’d be unwise tracking my cheating husband now."

“So you’re just going to sit back and do nothing, let him get away with it while you pine for the life you deserve?” Sebastian asked, his tone reflecting his obvious irritation. “You really have changed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re backing down from a challenge,” Sebastian said. He leaned back on the crate with his arms crossed. “And worse, you’re backing down from standing for what’s right.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it? Because the version of you I used to know never would have sat in silence when faced with injustice. Even when I killed Solomon, you only decided to protect me because of Anne.”

“I protected you because I loved you.” The words left your lips before you could think better of it, and you bit the inside of your cheek in instant regret. Sebastian failed to maintain a stoic expression, frowning as the statement stirred more guilt inside him. 

The comfortable bond the two of you had built over the past few weeks was compromised as the silence that fell between you felt somber.

After several moments of internal struggle, Sebastian sighed and leaned forward on the crate, his elbows resting on his knees.

“All I’m saying,” he finally started, “Is that I’ve seen you fight some of the most dangerous people and creatures on Earth. I’ve seen you keep your composure and resolve under unfathomable circumstances, and you never took the easy way out by compromising your morals. You’ve done immeasurable things for other people out of love, but that should include yourself, too.”

“Even if I wanted to end things with Oliver and catch him cheating, I can’t exactly just cast disillusionment charm and expect to trail him around the Ministry all day,” you said.

“You’re right, you can’t,” Sebastian agreed. “Good thing I have a better idea.”

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” you muttered. It was the following morning and you were standing in Sebastian’s cottage as he rummaged through a trunk in his bedroom. As he searched, your eyes drifted around the room.

It was different from the last time you were there. There was much more decor, surely Wendy’s doing. A coat rack in the corner held a pink sweater that you decided was ugly before Sebastian's voice pulled you from your judgmental musings.

“Ah, here it is,” he said, pulling a shimmering cloak from the trunk. “Haven’t needed it in quite some time.”

“And where did you get an invisibility cloak anyway?” you demanded. 

“Found it on one of my work assignments,” Sebastian said proudly. He pulled the trunk around his body so that only his head remained in view. “See? Much better than any disillusionment spell.”

“And you expect to just trail Oliver around the Ministry all day while we huddle beneath that cloak?”

“Of course not. We’ll hide in his office and wait until the end of the work day, see where he goes.”

“And how do you expect to get inside his office? We can’t just waltz into the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

“Good thing we know someone else who works at the Ministry,” Sebastian said smugly.

“Oh Sebastian, we can’t drag Wendy into this-”

“Not Wendy,” Sebastian cut in. “I’ve not said a word to her. She’s been too stressed to think straight lately, with the baby coming.”

“Who then?”

Sebastian smiled at you. “You’ll see.”

You and Sebastian waited until noon to apparate to the Ministry to ensure you’d arrived while Wendy was on her lunch break. Once you were past the reception desk, you stepped into the lift and Sebastian led you to Basement Level II. 

“Department of Magical Law Enforcement?” you hissed as you stepped off the lift. “Sebastian, what are we doing here? What are you going to do, have Oliver arrested?”

“Believe me, if infidelity were a crime, I would.” He glanced at his pocketwatch before leading you toward an inconspicuous door at the end of the corridor, guiding you inside.

“Sebastian, this is a broom closet. What the hell-”

“You’ll see.”

“It’s dark and it smells in here. I-” The door swung open and you froze as you took in the newcomer’s appearance. “Ominis?”

Your former friend looked amused. “The two of you hiding away inside a broom closet. It really is like old times,” he said. Sebastian ushered him inside and shut the door with a quiet snap as you blushed. “I should have known it would be some precarious, covert mission that would reunite the two of you.”

You threw your arms around him in a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

Ominis hugged you back, pulling away to smile at you. “While I’m also thrilled for this reunion, I must say, the circumstances are concerning – again, not that I’m surprised given that it concerns you two,” he said.

“Sebastian didn’t give you the details?”

“Sebastian, provide details before doing something potentially stupid and risky? Have you forgotten the past?”

You laughed, relieved that Ominis hadn’t changed, before you launched into an explanation of why you were currently hiding in a broom closet inside the Ministry of Magic with your two former closest friends. When your explanation was complete, Ominis’ expression was ambiguous.

He heaved a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You don’t deserve that,” Ominis said with an air of sadness. “I’ve run into Oliver a few times for work purposes and I never found him as charismatic or astute as he seems to think he is. You deserve better than him." You opened your mouth to respond, but Ominis continued, his expression shifting to something more serious. “You two do realize this is utterly insane,” he said. You and Sebastian swapped a glance but said nothing. “I could jeopardize my standing with the Wizengamot if anyone finds out I helped you two sneak into Oliver’s office.”

“Which is why no one’s going to find out,” Sebastian said simply.

Ominis sighed and you couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of it all. You and Sebastian, tasking a reluctant Ominis to help you carry out a daring task that could get all three of you into trouble... 

“Just like old times,” Sebastian quipped, as if he could read your mind.

“All right,” Ominis said. “You have the cloak?” 

“I do.”

“Well put it on then. I’ll show you where to go and get you into Oliver’s office, but consider my involvement complete after that,” Ominis said.

“Yes, sir.” Sebastian draped the cloak around himself and then motioned for you to step closer. You froze. You hadn’t been that close to Sebastian in years. Ominis quirked an eyebrow as if he could sense your discomfort but said nothing.

You moved closer to Sebastian and he draped the cloak around you. The proximity made you tense, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as the scent of Sebastian’s cologne found you.

Fearful Sebastian would hear your heavy breaths, you kept your jaw clenched as Ominis swung the closet door open.

Once certain no one else was in sight, Ominis strolled toward the lift, where you and Sebastian squeezed into a corner to avoid detection by its other occupants. As more wizards and witches filed in, Sebastian pressed up against you, the two of you so close you could feel his chest heaving. His frame felt much sturdier than his teenage self and it made you want to snake your arms around him, to feel how much he had changed with the palms of your hands.

Once the lift reached Basement Level 5, Ominis strode to the corridor that led to the Department of International Cooperation’s International Magical Trading Standards Body offices, where Oliver worked.

Ominis offered polite greetings to passerby until he reached a row of doors. He glanced around to see if anyone was nearby, but the department was largely vacant due to the lunch hour. He knocked gently on the second door and waited until he was sure no one was inside to answer it. He cracked open the door just wide enough for you and Sebastian to file inside.

“Oliver, you in here?” Ominis called out as he stuck his head inside the office for good measure. He paused to give you and Sebastian time to slip inside before he muttered, “Must be at lunch. I’ll come back later.” 

The door snapped shut and you and Sebastian exhaled a simultaneous breath. “We did it,” Sebastian said.

“Yes, but now we have to wait,” you said. “Perhaps we should sit in that corner, there. I doubt anyone would venture over there. We can sit comfortably and stay hidden beneath the cloak.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement and the two of you retreated to the corner of the room where you sat on the floor, your backs against the walls. 

You took a moment to gaze around Oliver’s office. You’d never been there before, but it appeared to be an accurate reflection of him. A stately chesterfield sofa sat against the wall, a stack of books neatly placed on the table next to it. Various quidditch team pennants hung neatly on the walls and Oliver’s school quidditch trophies gleamed on the top shelf of a bookcase. 

Sitting on the corner of Oliver’s desk was a single frame that contained a portrait of you. 

You studied the photo of yourself, watching the woman in the frame wave and flash a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

The adrenaline rush of sneaking through the halls of the Ministry of Magic was suddenly replaced by a surge of sadness as you remembered why you were there to begin with.

Oliver wasn’t the love of your life. After two years of marriage, you merely tolerated him most days, maybe liked him on your best days. Losing him wouldn’t destroy you – not in the way losing Sebastian did. But still, Oliver was your husband, and you’d be a liar to deny the hurt his infidelity would cause.

Sebastian stirred next to you. You couldn’t help but smile as you remembered how the teenage version of him couldn’t sit still for too long without fidgeting. 

“So tell me,” you said quietly, keeping your eyes on the door for any sign of movement. “What name do you have picked out for the baby?”

“Well, if it’s a boy, he’s got to be Sebastian Jr.” 

“Then let’s hope it’s not a boy,” you quipped, drawing a grin from Sebastian.

“And if it’s a girl… I’m not sure. Wendy and I are sort of at odds over the name.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, she likes the name Doris,” Sebastian said. “Which is a fine name and all, but I’d like to name her some iteration of Anne. Maybe Anne-Marie.”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Anne’s perfect.”

“The truth is, I’m not sure how much longer Anne has left,” Sebastian said, his expression becoming serious. “The curse has really worn her down in the last five years. She’s so frail now, and she just doesn’t have the same fiery spirit. She’s tired of fighting.”

“Oh, Sebastian,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“She’ll keep fighting as long as she can, because that’s who she is, but I can tell it’s wearing on her.”

“She’s one of the toughest people I’ve ever met. And probably the only person more stubborn than you,” you said with a sad smile. “I’m sure she’d love to have a little niece with her namesake. And I’m sure any kid of yours will be just as gutsy as Anne is.”

“You’re damn right,” Sebastian said proudly.

The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the hum of the Ministry's offices echoing to fill the space. You thought about how bizarre your current scenario was. A few months ago, you’d have thought you’d gone mad if you had told yourself you were going to reunite with Sebastian Sallow and sneak through the Ministry of Magic to stalk your potentially cheating husband. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” you said softly. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I’d do anything for you, you know that. Just because we broke up doesn’t mean we stopped being kindred spirits.”

His words made your chest contort. Even when he belonged to someone else, even when he was set to start a family with her, he still cared about you. It would have been beautiful if it wasn’t quite so heartbreaking.

“I’m glad such a bizarre twist of fate made us neighbors,” you managed with a soft laugh.

“Indeed. Life wasn’t the same without you.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” you laughed again. “Though it was much more stable and my stress levels dropped considerably.”

“That’s an interesting way of saying life was boring without me,” Sebastian mused. “Though I could say the same.”  He cast a sideways glance at you, studying your expression from the corner of his eye for a moment. “My biggest regret in life is walking away from you, you know.”

Your chest caved at his statement and you swallowed, praying he couldn’t hear the way your heart threatened to hammer itself out of your chest. Part of you wanted Sebastian to continue spilling his innermost thoughts, to learn more about how he felt about you; the other part wanted him to shut the fuck up before he broke your heart all over again.

You dared to tilt your head to look at him and were surprised to find he was looking directly at you, too. You wondered if the sadness in his gaze mirrored your own, but you said nothing. Instead, you could feel him breathing as your treasonous mind made you wonder how it would feel to kiss him again.

You determinedly averted your eyes from his lips, refusing to reveal what was on your mind. You held Sebastian’s gaze as long as you could, as if his thoughts might permeate your own if you looked hard enough. You could see the familiar traces of affection in his eyes that once overwhelmed you with love.

But before any more thoughts could be expressed, the doorknob twisted. You and Sebastian both straightened, your eyes darting to the door as you held your breath. It was still 20 minutes until 1 p.m., meaning Oliver was returning from lunch early.

He strolled in with an aggravated expression that made you frown in confusion. But the answer revealed itself sooner than you ever could have imagined.

The clack of heels on the stone floor echoed their way toward the office, indicating a woman was close behind him. Your gaze darkened as you prepared yourself for the woman who was likely your rival.

You weren’t prepared to see Wendy Sallow.

Sebastian tensed immediately next to you, so you did the only thing that calmed him back when you were teenagers. You placed a gentle hand on top of his knee and gave it a gentle squeeze, silently begging him not to act. His breath hitched and you clenched your jaw.

“Oliver, we’re running out of time,” Wendy said with a frustrated tone. Oliver shot her a sharp glare and waved his wand, the door swinging shut with a firm snap.

“I’m aware of that,” Oliver replied curtly, gesturing toward Wendy’s pregnant stomach. “But I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

“You said you were going to leave her.”

“I said I’d consider it, and in due time,” Oliver responded irritably. “I didn’t say I’d do it so soon. And I certainly didn’t expect you to end up pregnant.”

“Well, this baby should be all the reason you need,” Wendy said. “You promised you’d take care of me – and our child.”

The room seemed to tilt, Oliver and Wendy’s bickering becoming a low background whir that your brain threatened to tune out as the reality of the situation unraveled itself at the expense of your nervous system. Your chest felt so tight, you wondered if you were suffering from cardiac arrest, and you suddenly felt so hot, you were certain the building was on fire.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was rigid next to you. Your heart dropped as the reality sank in. Sebastian would walk away from this moment with more scars than you. You had entered that office prepared to learn of your spouse’s infidelities, but Sebastian hadn’t. He was supposed to be the innocent, third party in all of this.

You realized you had to keep your composure in order for Sebastian to keep his. You had to silently convince him to control his emotions before he gave you both away.

The hand that rested atop his knee found his hand instead. You gripped it tightly, squeezing hard to send the message. You didn’t dare glance at Sebastian, fearful that doing so might evoke his rage, or your tears.

“And I will take care of you, darling,” Oliver said, crossing the office to place his hands on both sides of Wendy’s waist. “And our child.” He placed a gentle hand on Wendy’s stomach and you started to feel nauseous.

For two years, Oliver refused to father a child with you, and you were his wife . He had given you a barrage of excuses, claiming he wanted your attention all to himself, or that children were a tremendous financial burden. 

This was an act of betrayal beyond any pain you’d ever felt. Worst of all, Sebastian had to share in it. Even now, all these years later when the two of you had built separate lives, your pain was mutual. It was beginning to feel like you and Sebastian were linked for life.

Suddenly, you let out a quiet gasp as you felt it. All of the fury and pain inside of you had clashed and boiled. It was currently coursing through your veins in the form of your ancient magic. 

You could feel the familiar tingle rush through your fingertips and you dug your nails into the back of Sebastian’s hand to send him a warning. He cast a sideways glance at you and understood what was happening. He'd seen it before. He shifted, reaching in his pocket for his wand to ready himself. Though you could control your ancient magic, you couldn’t hide it, and anyone in your vicinity would be able to feel it.

The room’s atmosphere began to shift, the air becoming heavy as your ancient magic rolled through it. The background sounds of conversation, footsteps and rustling parchment fizzled as the hum of your magic swelled. Oliver and Wendy both froze as they felt it, the hairs on their arms standing upright.

Your magic caused the invisibility cloak to flutter, its fabric dancing in the sunlight that drifted through the window curtains. It was enough to catch Oliver’s eye and you watched as his hand disappeared into his robes. He sent a basic cast toward your corner that narrowly missed your head.

You and Sebastian dove in separate directions, the cloak falling to a pile on the floor. The room grew quiet as Oliver and Wendy watched in shock while you and Sebastian climbed to your feet.

“What in Merlin’s name-” Oliver started.

“Sebastian?” Wendy gasped.

Sebastian didn’t speak, a rare change in his usual demeanor, but the severity of his gaze was perilous. His chest heaved and his fingers gripped his wand so tight, his knuckles were white.

“How long?” you finally asked, shifting your gaze to Oliver who still looked stunned. “How long have the two of you…”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Oliver demanded.

“Sebastian, love, it’s not what it looks like,” Wendy interjected. She moved toward Sebastian, her hands outstretched and her doe eyes wide as they silently pleaded with him. 

“Don’t,” was all Sebastian said, his voice steady but quiet.

Wendy whimpered. If you hadn’t been so furious, you might have laughed at her. 

“How did you get in here?” Oliver continued. “How long have you been here? Were you following me?”

“I said, how long have the two of you been doing this?” you repeated. 

Oliver appeared to be searching his mind for explanations, but he knew you were too smart to entertain any of them.

“Darling,” he started. “It’s not what you think. It’s much more complicated-”

“I think you’ve been having an affair for quite some time,” you said. “But I didn’t expect it to be with our neighbor.” Your ancient magic surrounded you with a blue haze as you glared at Oliver. “Is that why you moved us to Feldcroft? So you could be closer to her? So that you could see your child?”

“How do you know it’s his?” Sebastian suddenly asked, his gaze on Wendy. “How can you be sure it’s not mine?”

“Sebastian-” Wendy started, her eyes sparkling with tears.

“Answer me.”

Wendy recoiled, her heels clicking on the stone floors as she lingered next to Oliver. “I’m sure,” she squeaked. “It happened when you were away… in Portugal. I know it’s his because you and I hadn’t-” She let out a sob that made you flinch.

“So this has been going on for months,” you said blankly. “And what were you two going to do when the baby arrived?” You turned on Wendy, your glare brimming with disgust. “Were you just going to allow Sebastian to believe it’s his?”

“I…” Wendy’s sniffled. “Oliver said he was going to be with me. I was going to tell Sebastian then.” Her eyes pleaded with Sebastian. “I didn’t mean to cause any harm. I just… Oliver said he would take care of me. I just wanted to be taken care of.”

It was a jarring realization for you. The life you had grown to detest was the life Wendy wanted. You dreamed of a career, a husband who understood you and a family to call your own. Wendy wanted to stay home and be doted over. It was as if the two of you had ended up in the other’s fairytale.

The hurt in Sebastian’s eyes broke your heart. You hated how unfair life had been to him. Dead parents, a cursed sister, a cruel uncle who never wanted him. Sebastian had worked hard to make up for his past, but now life had betrayed him with an unfaithful wife and a child that wasn’t his.

“I don’t understand,” you finally said, frowning as you tried to make sense of the entire situation. “There were nights… times when you’d come home late, Oliver. But Wendy… I’d see you at home with Sebastian.”

Oliver and Wendy swapped a glance and your braced yourself for more bad news.

“Our townhome in London…” Oliver said. “I… I didn’t actually sell it. It’s still mine. Sometimes I’d stay there after we… I just couldn’t face you, darling.”

“Couldn’t face me,” you repeated blankly. “So you could have an affair with another woman – our neighbor – but couldn’t come home and look me in the eye when you were done fucking her?”

“Oh, don’t act so innocent,” Wendy spat. You flinched at her sudden outburst, her tone reaching a new shrill. “I’ve seen you and Sebastian sneaking away to have private little conversations about your past. Don’t think I didn’t know about the two of you. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you looked at each other, like two lovesick puppies.”

“Nothing has happened between us since we were eighteen,” you said, glaring at Wendy. “Sebastian has always been faithful to you.”

Wendy forced a laugh. “Sebastian hasn’t touched me since you moved next door,” she said. “At first I thought it was because of my pregnancy, but then I saw the way he’d look at you, the way he’d rather spend time with you. It was never about me. It was always you.”

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak but Oliver cut him off.

“I know all about you, Sallow,” Oliver said. “Your dead parents and shamed uncle who was ousted by the Ministry. Your cursed sister stuck in St. Mungo’s. You can’t give your wife a life worth anything.”

The entire time, you had been worried for the way Sebastian might act. You didn’t consider your own reaction. But your ancient magic surged again, ignited by Oliver’s harsh words toward Sebastian, sparking a sudden crackle over the room you couldn’t control.

Oliver recoiled at the sound, mistaking it for an attack from Sebastian. He hit Sebastian with a basic cast, which sent him backward. 

“Oliver!” you hissed, moving to check on Sebastian, who scrambled to his feet. Before you could beg him to refrain, Sebastian retaliated with Diffindo. Oliver spun from the red flash that sliced toward him, but it nicked him across the torso while Wendy let out a scream.

The conversation was over. It was now going to end in a duel and a peculiar twist of fate, with you and Sebastian against your husband. 

Sebastian cast a barrage of spells at Oliver that sent parchment and paperwork flying. Oliver managed a Protego charm, its rebound causing the spells to ricochet throughout the office. One skimmed the top of Oliver’s desk, sending its content scattering, while another careened into the bookcase, smashing his trophies. Your eyes shifted to Wendy, who continued to scream. You refused to attack a pregnant woman, but pointed your wand at her in case she dared to attack Sebastian.

“Go,” you ordered. “Get the fuck out of here and stay away from Sebastian. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

She blinked in disbelief, but scurried for the door, the clack of her heels echoing until the sound faded down the corridor. Oliver had moved toward the door to follow her, but Sebastian remained on him, his force of spells driving him backward into the hall.

“Sebastian!” you shouted, following after them. “Sebastian, stop! We’re in the Ministry. The aurors will be on you in a heartbeat.”

He didn’t listen. You watched as he sent a Confringo spell at Oliver, which deflected into a row of desks, setting them ablaze. A handful of workers who had returned from lunch were backed up against the dark stone walls, their eyes wide as they took in the scene.

“Sebastian, you can’t!” you begged. “Think of Anne. Think of Ominis… think of me.” 

You don’t know what made you say it. After all, you and Sebastian had only reconnected recently. He had been the one who left you five years ago, so you didn’t know why you thought he’d care about you now.

But he was here with you. He’d been the one to plan this entire day and help you get answers about Oliver long before he had any idea his own wife was involved.

Sebastian paused for a fleeting moment, his eyes drifting to you with understanding. Time seemed to slow when your gazes locked and you begged Sebastian with your eyes to come to his senses.

His pause gave Oliver just enough time to react.

“Incarcerous!” Ropes shot from Oliver’s wand, whipping through the air until they coiled tightly around Sebastian. He fell over, writhing on the floor as he struggled against them.

And before you could stop to reflect, your ancient magic acted on your behalf. You didn’t need your wand as the blue static enveloped you, illuminating your frame. One dismissive flick of your hand blasted Oliver backward until his body skidded across the floor against the far wall in a heap.

Your eyes scanned the room for any more potential threats, but you noticed it had cleared out. You turned to Sebastian and waved your hand again, the ropes disintegrating as you knelt next to him.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You stared at one another, unsure what to say or what to do next. “We should go,” you finally said. 

“Right.” You helped Sebastian to his feet and he cleared his throat. The awkward tension wasn’t lost on either of you, but Sebastian took your hand and apparated, leaving the Ministry behind with a sharp crack.

Eighteen months later

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You froze in your tracks, a tiny smile forming across your lips before you turned to face your husband.

“I was just going out front,” you said innocently. “The daylilies need watering.”

“You’re supposed to be on bed rest,” Sebastian said, his arms folded across his chest as if he were stern with you.

“I’m fine,” you groaned. “The doctor told me to take it easy. I’m simply tending to my garden, not dueling any poachers.”

“You’re nine months pregnant. You need to stay off your feet.”

“I’m going to hex you off your feet if you don’t back off.”

Sebastian smirked and took a step toward you. “That’s exactly the kind of attitude that got you pregnant in the first place.” He reached for your arm and gently tugged you closer, his arms wrapping around you despite your large belly keeping you separate.

“Just let me water the daylilies first.”

Sebastian relented and followed you outside, where you used Aguamenti to water the bright flowers you had planted to replace the rose bushes. You smiled to yourself as you let the peaceful scene settle around you. You’d picked daylilies for their resilience – beautiful, yet tough as nails and difficult to kill. They were a symbolic reflection of both you and Sebastian, as well as your relationship. 

You moved into Sebastian’s cottage shortly after your divorce with Oliver was finalized. Your relationship didn’t rekindle immediately after that day you discovered Oliver and Wendy’s affair at the Ministry of Magic. You hadn’t expected it to.

Instead, you and Sebastian both needed time to heal from your broken marriages. You recovered quicker, given that your marriage had been built on convenience, but Sebastian needed more time to grieve. Not only had he been betrayed by his wife, he had to accept her child was never his.

You were patient with Sebastian, careful to give him all the time he needed to mend. Though you were hopeful time would heal the wounds and bring you two together again, you made sure to keep your proper distance. 

Eventually, you and Sebastian fell into a comfortable routine. Ominis introduced you to the head of the Ministry’s Auror Division, which eventually led to a spot with the Muggle Prime Minister’s security detail. Sebastian helped you regain your strength and skills as the two of you sparred in friendly duels in a fields west of Feldcroft. You finally had started the career you wanted with hopes you’d someday advance from protecting the prime minister to hunting down and catching dark wizards. 

You and Sebastian spent your evenings talking quietly, cozied up next to the fire. You’d lounge on the sofa and he’d sit opposite of you in an armchair, both of your noses in books. But eventually, Sebastian began to join you on the sofa, sitting next to you every night until you felt comfortable resting your head on his shoulder. Other times, he’d stretch out with his head in your lap.

Finally, the traces of pain left his eyes and he returned to his normal self. He had also filed for divorce and Wendy agreed without another word. The last you heard, she and Oliver moved into your old townhouse together and she gave birth to a baby girl she named Doris.

Your closeness with Sebastian returned with a blend of nostalgia and unfamiliarity. You joked and teased just like you did as teenagers, but your romance carried a new level of trust that surprised you. Sebastian broke your heart once, but the pain and anger you carried was long gone. Now, it was replaced with the mutual understanding that you and Sebastian had been given a second chance you both refused to ruin.

You fell in love again slowly, then all at once. You and Sebastian had gotten married a year ago.

Now, Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, smiling gently as he watched you quietly. You pretended not to notice at first, until you flicked your wand toward him to spray him with water.

“You little-”

You laughed as he lunged for you, pinning your arms behind your back so that you’d drop your wand. It clattered on the stone pathway and rolled toward the cottage next door. You and Sebastian watched in silence until it came to a stop a few feet from the house. Lights were on inside and you could hear laughter from the family who had moved in a few months back. They were an older couple with a pair of twins who attended Hogwarts.

“Not thinking about leaving me for the neighbor, are you?” Sebastian murmured in your ear. He stood behind you, pressed against your back so that he could place his hands on your pregnant belly.

“Hmm, not sure he’s my type,” you mused.

“Good. Because I’ve killed before and I’d do it again. Wendy didn’t deserve it, but you – I’d kill for you.”

“Sebastian!” You whirled around to scold him and he laughed, gently pulling you close again so that he could press a kiss to your forehead. You continued to glower at him until he bent down to retrieve your wand from the ground.

“You know,” he said as he steered you past the daylilies and back toward your cottage. “I never liked those roses anyway.”

Part II: There We Were Forever

(Smut warning - minors DNI)

One year later

“Is she asleep?”

You nodded quietly as you joined Sebastian in the kitchen to help him finish clearing the dinner dishes. 

“She’s out,” you said, waving your wand to send a stack of dishes toward the cupboard. You slowed your motion, moving your wand with precision until the plates settled with a quiet clink. “She was exhausted.”

“Good.” Sebastian tossed a dish rag on the counter and moved toward you, his hands resting on the small of your back as he kissed your temple. “I bet you’re exhausted too.”

You nodded. Motherhood was the toughest task you had ever faced, but you couldn’t be happier. Your 1-year-old daughter, Anne Marie, was your proudest accomplishment. 

“I’ll finish cleaning up,” Sebastian said. “You go relax.”

You smiled in gratitude and retreated to the sofa by the fireplace. It crackled quietly as you sank into the cozy cushions and closed your eyes. A gentle smile rested across your lips as you silently appreciated the moment. Just three years ago, you were still married to Oliver, trapped in a life you didn’t want. Now, you were happy and full of appreciation for all the moments – the good and bad – that had led you to this point.

Your eyes remained closed but you could sense motion nearby as Sebastian settled in beside you, his arm draping gently around your shoulders.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” he mumbled in your ear before he nuzzled your neck. He left a trail of kisses from your collarbone, up your neck, to the soft patch of skin behind your ear.

Sleep sounded positively blissful, but not nearly as blissful as whatever it was Sebastian had in mind.

You tilted your head to the side to allow Sebastian more access to your neck. You could feel him smirk against your skin as he shifted his body to face you better, one hand resting atop your thigh.

He kissed you as if his lips were searching for something rare, though he’d kissed you like that just hours earlier before he left for work. Those same lips had spent the early hours of the morning between your thighs, ensuring you’d relax a little before your daughter awoke for the day.

Now, Sebastian’s hand inched higher beneath the hem of your dress, his thumb tracing lazy patterns across your skin as he continued to kiss you.

Your own hands gripped the front of Sebastian’s shirt, balling and tightening the white fabric in your fists to emphasize the sinful thoughts escalating inside your mind.

A whimper escaped your throat as Sebastian’s fingertips brushed against your panties covering your core. He shifted again until you were on your back, your head on the armrest on the couch as he loomed over you. 

He had you in a similar position in bed this morning, and the memory of it made you shift your hips as the familiar ache of lust swelled between your legs.

Sebastian’s fingers dragged against your panties again until you felt them inch to your hips, curling around the waistband on your side. He guided them downward, tossing them lazily on the floor as he returned his eyes to you.

Your own gaze fell to the bulge in his pants, which had the fabric so taut, it looked painful. You bit your lip as you eyed it, picturing Sebastian’s full, unclothed length in your mind despite having seen it countless times. 

You suddenly felt guilty as you remembered that Sebastian had only serviced you that morning. He had helped you achieve your own release – twice – but Anne Marie’s wails from across the hall interrupted you before you could return the favor.

Despite the positively anguishing ache that was coursing between your thighs, you started to sit up to take control. But Sebastian was in no mood for a fight.

“Bad idea, love,” he purred as he gently pushed your shoulder back down. You narrowed your eyes in protest, provoking a wolfish grin from him.

His hand snapped back to your entrance, and before you could protest, a finger was edging its way inside you. The best you could manage was a moan.

“That’s better,” Sebastian cooed as he slipped another finger inside. He pumped his hand, the friction of his calloused skin stimulating pure bliss against your slick interior in sweeping motions. “Just relax, my love. You deserve some rest.”

Sebastian used his thumb to drag circles over your clit as his index and middle fingers glided in and out of your entrance. You pushed back with your hips, guiding your most sensitive spot over his fingertips. He curled his fingers and you gasped at the welcome, warming sensation building there.

A few twists of his fingers and just the right amount of pressure from Sebastian’s thumb nudged you over the edge. A loud moan echoed through the living room as your walls clenched around Sebastian’s fingers, which continued their beckoning motion inside of you as they worked through your orgasm. They sank back inside of you, pressing into your soft core until your body relaxed around them.

His fingers were slick as he removed them to suck on them, his eyes dark with satisfaction at your submissive state.

“Now it’s my turn,” Sebastian said, sitting back as he unbuttoned his shirt. You used the time it took him to undress to catch your breath. Your eyes roamed his bare chest until he began kicking off his trousers, the sudden sight of his erection reenergizing your tired body.

It was an erotic vision that prompted your filthiest thoughts as all you could picture was the way you would stretch around him until he fucked you so hard, your knees collapsed.

You couldn’t believe you ever allowed yourself to tolerate another man.

“Come here,” Sebastian growled as he settled upright at the center of the sofa. You straddled his lap, using the scant remnants of self-control that remained to slowly ease yourself around his cock. Sebastian’s head fell backward to rest against the back of the sofa, his eyes falling shut at the sensation of your cunt surrounding him. “Going to reward me for my generosity this morning?” he asked.

You hummed a reply as you lifted your hips slowly, delighted by the sensation of your folds dragging along Sebastian’s length as you worked up and down with deliberation.

You leaned back slightly and Sebastian’s eyes fell open to gaze at you. He frowned as he realized you were still in your dress.

“This needs to go,” he said as his hands searched for the hem. Once he found it, he helped you yank the dress over your head until it heaped on the floor in one fluid swish of fabric. “Much better,” Sebastian mewed as his eyes fell to your breasts. He groaned in pleasure as they bounced when you sank downward again, his cock filling you entirely.

As you continued to lean backward, your fingers gripping the back of the sofa for leverage, the angle made your eyes roll back as you concentrated on the feeling of Sebastian’s tip plunging inside of you, pressing against that same spot that would make your toes curl.

"You're too fucking good at this," Sebastian hissed.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed as you could feel the familiar uprise of another orgasm. Its threat surfaced quickly and you had a momentary, fleeting thought of using a silencing charm the next time you decided to let Sebastian ruin you in the living room. That thought was interrupted by the eruption of pleasure that made your cunt contract.

"I'm coming," you whined as you sank down once more, Sebastian's cock slamming into your sweet spot.

Your hips drove downward, settling in place as your walls quivered around Sebastian’s cock. He held still to allow you to ride it out, your wetness trickling to the base of his shaft.

“So fucking good,” he groaned as he felt your orgasm subside. “You always feel fucking incredible.”

By now, you were reaching the point that lay beyond exhaustion. Your legs felt weak from riding Sebastian so hard and your head felt hazy, but you’d be damned if you walked away again without feeling Sebastian’s sweet release.

“Let me up,” Sebastian said, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to gently pull you backward. You obliged, praying your knees wouldn’t give out as you stood. 

“On your knees,” Sebastian ordered as he gently nudged you toward the sofa. You obeyed, your knees sinking into the cushions as you leaned forward against the sofa back, your hands clutching it in anticipation. You felt Sebastian kneel behind you, his own knees settling between your spread legs.

He rested one hand on your waist as the other wrapped around his cock to ease it back inside of you. Your cunt accommodated him with less resistance this time, but Sebastian grunted at the tight heat that swallowed his cock.

“Like it when I take you from behind?” he murmured against the back of your neck.

“Yes,” you breathed as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade. 

“Want me to make you come again?”

“Yes.” You whimpered to emphasize your greedy desperation. Sebastian made you come twice that morning and twice now this evening, but the feeling of your cunt stretched around his hard length made it difficult for you to think rationally. “Sebastian,” you whined at his lack of movement. You bucked your hips backward, drawing a resounding moan from him.

“Just like that love,” he breathed. 

You ground yourself backward, Sebastian’s cock burying itself inside you repeatedly, the sounds of slapping skin clapping across the room. Sebastian’s grip on your hips tightened until his primal instincts overpowered him.

He thrust himself hard against you, his fingers sinking into your flesh to leave inevitable bruises. 

“Oh fuck,” he moaned as he drove himself harder inside you. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sofa, your cunt gripping at Sebastian in an attempt to stir up one more orgasm.

Sebastian’s cock pounded against your sensitive spot and you cried out in encouragement, pleading with him to grant you the privilege of one more moment of euphoria.

“Come for me,” he commanded. You moaned in response to indicate how close you were, rocking your hips backward to meet Sebastian’s rhythm. His thrusts became more erratic, an obvious sign he was nearing his peak.

“Right there,” you managed as you squeezed your eyes shut, every ounce of your focus on the building sensation. Almost there. A few more strokes should do it…

The pleasure made your thighs shake as you released a breathy cry that was followed by the sounds of Sebastian’s thrusts fucking you to completion. The orgasm erupted in forceful waves that fluttered through your walls until you collapsed over the back of the sofa.

The sight of your satisfied, fucked out frame was Sebastian’s ultimate climax. He grunted as he thrusted hard and held you flush against himself while he spilled inside you. You couldn’t help but release one final moan at the sensation of his heat pooling within your cunt until he pulled away. It dripped from you, cascading down your thighs as you feebly straightened to your feet.

Sebastian’s arms were around you instantly, pulling you close as he held you quietly, both of your panting the only sound in the cottage. You slumped against him, sleepy and sweaty, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I can’t believe we didn’t wake the baby,” Sebastian mused softly.

Your eyes opened and drifted over the scene of your sins. “I can’t believe we ruined the sofa,” you frowned.

Sebastian barked a laugh and pulled you in close again, your head resting against his chest. “Wendy picked that out years ago. I never liked it anyway.”

[tinytennisskirt]

Behind Closed Doors

socialite good girl! reader x patrick zweig

summary: heavily based on the lyrics of behind closed doors by lana del rey, patrick zweig takes genuine interest in one of the 'matches' his parents have thrown at him to try and rope him back to high society. she takes him and herself by surprise, finding she's not all spoiled, perfect, and innocent. nobody is rooting for them, but they don't care. if it feels good. then it can't be bad. behind closed doors.

part one: reader goes through the motions of her first date with patrick, her first cigarette, and the debrief that follows suit. warnings: mentions of sex, smoking, kissing, slight corruption vibe

When Patrick pulled out his pack of cigarettes in the restaurant parking lot, you knew for certain he wasn’t your usual type of guy. As if the date itself didn’t already tell you so. His wandering eyes, his hands tapping the table, the way he asked to split the bill. He was an asshole in a way that you could tolerate for the first time in your life. And he was gorgeous, tall, with nice biceps and a pretty nose. He had curls you stared at quite a bit and interestingly blue eyes that didn’t seem all that blue in the lighting of the parking lot.

You just kept noting that he was nothing like the other guys your parents would send you out with. The setups were usually awful, but with Patrick here, there was no beige sweater tied around his shoulders like a white-collared asshole with a business dream. He was Patrick Zweig, in a dark green sweater and jeans and a cigarette between his lips and he was leaning against his car, smoke blowing in your face. He was new and it was refreshing and it felt… dangerous. He didn’t mention the stock market, he said you looked nice in your dress, and never in your life had you ever wanted to remove your clothes faster. That was bad.

It was dangerous because one, you were a virgin, and two, he was not the kind of guy you’d dreamed about losing that to. You pictured a Prince Charming, groomed, dress shirt, whiskey neat, and in a setting of pretty rose petals, not red, but pink and romantic candlelight. Here Patrick was in front of you destroying that vision. With every word that slipped his lips, those pink rose petals turned red. The lush sheets you’d imagined turned into the backseat of his car. Prince Charming turned into a twenty-four-year-old tennis player. 

You tucked your hair behind your ears, “Do they taste how they smell?” You asked him, tilting your head just slightly to the right, your eyes wide and unknowing. You reminded him a little bit of a deer, or a kitten, or something innocent. It was something about him being four years older, which wasn’t that much now. But he could see that little difference. And you were shorter than him, which wasn’t helpful in your case, but then again nor were those curious eyes. Patrick smiled just a little bit at the question. 

“The cigarettes?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Worse.” He nodded. You were the daughter of some family friend, some nose-upturned chair member on some sort of big fucking social pyramid that his own mother was also at the top of. You were the daughter of that high society, so looking at you all doe-eyed in your pink dress, it was only fitting for Patrick to fall into character and ask you, “Do you want to try?” He coughed just a little asking it, but smirked all the same. 

He liked the way you looked a little startled by his ask. Your eyelashes fluttered, it was cute. He’d played nice the entire time he was out with you, asked all the questions you ask the heir of two socialites, and listened to all the answers. He couldn’t believe after so much time away from the scene he’d want to hear about Saturdays at the Country Club, but you were that sort of girl and for once, he didn’t mind it—something about you. You blinked hard and you giggled just a little, “Oh, I- don’t- it’s…” 

“Just an offer.” He nodded, enjoying how flustered it made you. He wondered what else he could do to produce that sort of reaction. 

“I-um- I’ve never- I don’t know how,” you admit. Patrick felt a smirk tug at his lips. He felt a little evil and he knew that he was, too. You weren’t that kind of girl and he knew it to his core that giving you a cigarette was an act rooted in a bit of corruption, but it was so cute how you just couldn’t say no. Some part of him would give anything to have that pretty pink lipgloss on the end of his cigarette. And the end of something else as well. “Should I?” 

His smirk broke free and his eyes met yours as he blew smoke out into the air again. “Only if you want to.” He nodded, chuckling. “You don’t have to. You won’t like it.” He held it out toward you and you brought your hand up and down twice before you took it, turning it around—perfect French tips on a burning cigarette. You looked at him, some form of determination taking over that curious look.

“What do I do? Can I do it wrong?” 

“Inhale like you’re taking a deep breath, hold and exhale.” He said, stepping just the slightest bit closer to you. He realized that his replies were coming off a little short, unintentionally. He was used to the stance of it when he went out with other entitled girls. You were coming off different, he blinked off his bias and smiled at you. “Can’t do it wrong, you might just not get any of the…” He fixed the way you were holding it, “-Smoke.”

You laughed a little nervously, “Mmm, no. I can’t. Take it back.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“I’m sure. Kind of. Could I get hooked?” 

He stepped closer again, “Depends on if you have an addictive personality.” 

“How do I know-” 

“It’s burning out, princess,” he said, pointing to the cigarette. The nickname nearly caught you more off guard than the cigarette did. He watched your lips part just slightly. He knew you were different. “I’ll take it back if you don’t want it.” He reached forward and you narrowed your eyebrows. He backed off, “Alright, alright.” 

His words echoed around your head. The nickname princess was one you resented yet somehow, from his lips it was even worse in the best way. How he was the son of two people whom you respected very much for their cleanly little dinner parties and charity organizations and white-wearing yacht parties, you didn’t know. He was so… opposite. So it was easy to be the opposite of who you were as you warily raised the cigarette to your lips. 

Patrick pressed his grin into a straight line, his eyes carefully watching as you looked at it, then him. He tried to keep his smile down to not intimidate you any further. He offered it almost to taunt you, but here you were, with it raised to your lips. A soft, pretty girl in a pink dress, even your shoes went against the look of a cigarette in your hands. You inhaled just slightly, the smoke didn’t make it very far, burning harshly against the back of your throat. You coughed immediately, head-turning away from him. Your heart was beating fast, the adrenaline of doing something wrong was coursing through your veins in a fiery hot struggle to breathe again. It wouldn’t stop, it hurt, it burned. Getting clean air seemed impossible- you choked.

Patrick stepped forward, his hand on your shoulder just bracingly, chuckling at how hard you were coughing and how hard you were trying to stop yourself from coughing. “You’re okay, breathe,” he was trying not to smile or laugh but he couldn’t help himself. The daughter of a pedestal socialite was coughing up her lungs because of him. He just knew your parents had made a mistake letting you go out with him. It wasn't the first time they’d thrown a good girl in his face to try and lure him back to his ‘rightful lifestyle’, but out of every girl, you were the only one to actually go against all of your good girl training and try. He liked that. 

You could not catch your breath. It still burned in your chest and in your throat. Patrick’s hand on your shoulder was a small help for comfort, his body so close to yours, your cough faded out but your heart was still beating hard. Fuck a headrush, you were feeling the adrenaline and the rush of something bad. Something wrong. His hand still on your shoulder to keep you steady and offer some semblance of comfort, you could meet his eyes now and in the height and heat of everything, you figured you had already went against your character- why not some more? 

You didn’t see it coming yourself, the way you acted so abruptly. You moved spontaneously into him, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Out of all the things to happen, a cigarette turning into a kiss was an unexpected move. The cigarette hit the pavement, sparks bouncing across the pavement as your lips connected with his, both arms around his neck now. His strong hands, stronger than any that had ever been on you, held your waist tight and kept you close, pressed against him. He didn’t see it coming either, but the way you kissed, he’d never complain. 

You were a good kisser, he noted. Good, too good. At twenty though, you’d made out with enough potential guys to know how. He grinned against your lips a little evilly as he let his hands slip over your hips, the silk of your dress making it easy for his hands to slide down over your ass. You tasted like strawberry lip gloss and as his tongue dipped into your mouth, you found he tasted like smoke and bad choices, but god, it felt so good. 

He moved a step, pressing your back against the side of his car. Your hands slid up into his hair to pull just gently on his curls that you’d admired all dinner. It was quite possibly one of the most exciting, thrilling, and invigorating kisses of your lifetime. One of the best of his as well, dwelling on the fact he had his tongue in the mouth of such a sweet girl. Sweet in more ways than one now, he noted, squeezing your ass just gently before having his hand travel back up your hips, back to your waist. Not once did either one of you come up for air as the cigarette on the ground burned out for real this time. 

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“The Zweigs don’t have a single photo of him around. Every time I go over with my parents, the walls are lined with vacation photos and paintings by prestigious artists, a new one every time, but never anything to do with him. Hell, I haven’t even seen a baby photo. They hide him well. What does he look like?” Your friend Mia asked, shopping bags bustling against each other as you walked through the mall. 

“Dying to know how it went, too,” your other friend Olive added, her extra-detailed Starbucks drink in hand. “Spill.” 

“Okay, okay,” you smiled. “So he’s tall. Not abnormally tall, but tall, like over six feet.” 

“The Zweigs are so short though,” Olive replied. “No way he’s anything more than five foot eight, I don’t believe it.” 

“Believe it. He was up here,” you gestured above you to where his height would be. Both girls grinned a little wider. “He has shorter hair, but it’s a little bit curly, dark brown. It’s a very Zweig brown. But god, he’s gorgeous. Like asshole gorgeous, too gorgeous. To me, at least. Big nose, blue-ish eyes.” 

“That’s your type.” Mia agreed. “I need a photo of him now. You feel like sharing?” 

“Dreamboat. I love big noses.” 

You grinned, “Me too. Okay, but his smile, I have to note. His grin was crazy, he has dimples like big dimples and I couldn’t stop staring when he smiled.” 

“I love dimples, my god, he sounds great, why do they hide him? I want to meet him.” Olive pretended to swoon as you turned the corner and into the bookstore. “So what happened?” 

You picked up a copy of some Shirley Jackson book, looking over the cover as you spoke, “Well, he’s not like the Zweigs at all. I mean, off the bat, his elbows were on the table. And he was charming and a little bit witty but very down to earth, talked to me about the last yacht party and we talked a bit about tennis, he’s a tennis player.” You walked over to the candles, the girls were so invested in your story they didn’t stop to smell any of them. “He’s not like any guy from our scene, no sweater vests or dreams to be his dad’s mini-me, it’s hot. It was hot. Sweater and jeans hot.” 

“I’m still hung up on the elbows thing,” Olive chuckled. “Maybe I’m just religious.” 

“Or anal,”  Mia giggled. “It’s bad, it’s rude, but maybe redeemable though I hate when guys wear jeans, it feels wrong. Okay, sorry, continue.” 

“So when dinner was over we split the bill, I’ve never done anything like it. Half and half. And then we go outside and we stand by his car and he smokes.” 

“Smokes? What, cigarettes?” You were turned away from the view of both your friends and the disgust on their faces. “Split the bill? As in made you pay?” 

You nodded, picking up a candle scented like baked goods, “Mhm. I didn’t mind, but it was strange. And yes, cigarettes. Oh, and I tried it.” You looked up at them for a split second. The two girls were posed in shock. “Okay, well, hardly, but I still tried.” 

“You smoked a cigarette?” Olive questioned, her face still puzzled and a little disgusted. “Did he force you?” 

“He offered. I only tried to inhale once and when I did I coughed forever but he was really sweet about it, put a hand on my arm and everything.” You rebutted. “Then we kissed… a bit.” 

Mia shook her head, “We’ll return back to a few of those points- How was the kiss? Was it good? Is he good at it?” She reshuffled the way she was holding all her shopping bags, moving past displays of stacked books. Olive, though still grossed out, seemed just as intrigued. 

You couldn’t help but hide your face, giggling just a little, “Really good, actually. Like perfect. He kisses with tongue, but not too much. Tasted like smoke. His hands were on my waist, he grabbed my ass, I’ve never had anyone grab my ass like that, it sent chills through my body.” 

“God, you’re so untouched,” Mia giggled. “Just wait until you get the other chills. Sometimes I forget you’re a virgin.” 

“That’s enough,” Olive grinned. “You’ve barely had sex yourself, Mary Magdalene.” You rolled your eyes, paying attention to another shelved book while they bickered until Olive cut back in. “But you’re not seeing him again, right? Like ew.” 

“Patrick?” You turned. 

She nodded, “Yeah. The kiss was probably great and he sounds hot, but you’re not seeing him again? Like- you literally smoked because of him, do you know how bad that is? And splitting the bill is so… so unfitting for you. The elbows on the table and the cigarette, Y/N… What?” 

Mia nodded too. “He might be a Zweig, but now you know why they hide him. He sounds cheap and a little trashy. I mean if you’re smoking at least make it a cigar, I mean, where’s the class? Did he even drive a good car?” 

“It was a normal car.” 

Olive put her drink down to gently brace your upper arms, “Y/N, this guy and his normal car are not for you. You’re a Y/L/N, why would you settle for some cigarette-smoking-elbows-on-the-table-split-the-bill black sheep? That’s so not you and god, if your parents found out, you’d be grounded for two years. And you even kissed him, that’s crazy. With tongue? Ass grabbing on the first date, tell me you’re following.” 

“I’m following, I just- hm. He was fine otherwise.” 

Mia frowned, “You’re hearing yourself? He was fine otherwise?”

“He was! He’s a good guy, he listens. He’s nice, drove me back to my dorm and everything.”You nodded. “And he’s a really good kisser like you wouldn’t believe. And I’m not opposed to having my ass grabbed-” 

“Y/N,” Mia whined. “He’s not it just because he’s different. You can find differences in a good-mannered guy. One who doesn’t smoke and one who drives something nice.” She nodded. “Like- Oh my god, Olive, we could set her up with Matty Bronson.” 

Olive gasped, tapping Mia on the arm. “He’s exactly that! Say no more, I have his number, he slipped it to me when I saw him the other day on campus.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. You loved your friends but sometimes they just didn’t get it. How could they? They never questioned their lifestyle, they never thought twice about all the high society coming out parties and summer vacation houses. They were also a little clueless- Matty Bronson had liked Mia all through high school and into the second year of college. There was no way now that you’d end up with him.

You picked up another book and read the back of it as you thought about the plans you’d already made to see Patrick again tomorrow night. This time, he picked the place. It was a thrilling thought, but after what they’d both just said, you knew maybe you shouldn’t tell them that you were seeing him again.

PART ONE > PART TWO

[valacre]

: ̗̀➛ A Merry Tradition Filled with Longing and Warmth

Optimus Prime x Reader

You were practically bouncing as you walked back and forth from your parked car, humming and grinning as boxes were loaded out. You’d refused help, saying that you had arms and legs for a reason and that they’d fall off if you didn’t use them. A quick reassuring to both him and Ratchet later affirmed that that wouldn’t be the case, you’d just been silly, as you’d said.

Still, he couldn’t help but notice the knowing glances his team sent his way, their optics shining brightly as they attempted to stave off their smiles.

When he caught them looking, they’d glance towards you. He did the same.

You were often jolly, all smiles and soft words, but you did look different today. Your car was dripping with melting snow, and your long red hat with white patterns and woollen puff hanging at the end glittered slightly with melting remnants of ice crystals. Your jacket was blue, also with white details, and your winter boots were bright red—oh. Realisation dawned upon him as he stared openly, optics widening slightly as his spark jumped. You were covered from head to foot in his colours.

His optics met your eyes, and you were grinning at him, rosy cheeks growing redder as you finished setting down the last box from your car.

You’d done it on purpose.

Optimus had to look away, though there was no mistaking the small smile upon his face plates.

The trail of thoughts that were filled with you, beautiful and adorable all the same, did not meet any resistance as he subtly glanced back over at you again, watching you as you rolled out a red carpet onto the platform you and the kids often stayed at. You were preparing to surprise Jack, Miko, and Rafael with a Christmas-decorated space for them to enjoy during this cheerful month, so you were going to spend the night at the base – something you occasionally liked to do anyway.

Ratchet had mildly complained at first but had grown flustered and had to turn away as you’d beamed at him instead, telling him how much you were looking forward to spending this festive season with him and the others. You had a unique way of wiggling your way into Ratchet’s spark, and Optimus admired you for that.

You’d done the same with all of them, but more so with him. It was no secret to himself that his feelings had turned from charmed to adoring in too quick of a time, but he’d been too late to notice it. Too late to stop himself from letting it get too far. Then again, he wasn’t sure if he’d wanted to stop it at all.

The warmth that spread throughout him whenever you were near was comforting and as soft as you, but the longing that accompanied it did little to soothe him. He ached to hold you near, to let himself stare without shame, and to gently press his face plates against your soft body.

Those thoughts were for him alone, he couldn’t possibly ever reveal them, but the urge to let it all out whenever you smiled up at him… It was becoming more difficult as the days passed. He would manage it, of course, he was a Prime, after all, but it didn’t mean that it would be easy.

You turned to look at him, garland in hand as you set to prepare for hours of decorating.

“I hope you won’t be too busy today. I’d love to have you around for company,” you said, smiling shyly despite the open declaration.

Optimus could feel the optics of his team turn to him, but he did not look back at them, instead, he kept his optics fixed on you; you, who were surrounded by glittering ornaments and golden detailing. You looked like a lovely piece of art, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“It would be an honour to aid you in your decorating, (y/n),” said he, and the shine that seemed to appear in your eyes as your smile widened helped ease the longing in his spark; for now.

[astro-rain]

i can handle me a dangerous man

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

word count: 2.6k

synopsis: Gruff sexy dangerous man walks into a bar. Bartender is a hopeless yearner turned seductress that wants to handle her a dangerous man. (smut with plot) Lowkey praise kink!Logan.

A/N: not edited

A cigarette perfumed room was where she spent most of her time. That old, oaky bar whose wooden floorboards creaked beneath the men who only ordered whiskey.

She was used to cigarettes. So when the rich, earthy aroma of a cigar billowed out of this mouth, it caught her attention.

Oh. Her thoughts went soft, breath thin.

“You alright?” the other bartender asked her still frame.

“Yes!” she turned around. “Sorry, I zoned out.”

“You see that one guy?” the coworker whispered. “He’s huge.”

“What guy?”

“Across the bar. Tall. Scruffy. Brooding.”

“Oh, yeah… He is tall.”

“Looks kinda scary though.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, look at him. He’s kinda buff. And he looks…” the coworker tilted his head, thinking, “I don’t know what emotion that is but — not happy.”

She kept her eyes to the floor, feigning nonchalance.

“You talk to him?”

“Only when he first ordered. His voice is sorta scary, too. Like, gruff.”

She looked back over to him. There was a dusty window behind him that shown soft light onto him, gentle golden emanating his frame. Warmed by the mahogany of the leather worn across his shoulders.

“Doesn’t look that gruff,” she commented gingerly, picking up a cup to clean. “He’s kinda pretty, actually.”

“You wanna talk to him?” he asked, almost surprised.

She shrugged cheekily. “I dunno. I might.”

“Good Lord. He’s yours.”

Quite frankly, unable to not notice him, she made her way over when she saw his empty glass.

“Get you another?” she asked, enjoying being closer than across the bar.

“Yeah. Thanks,” he gave her a nod.

His voice was low, husky, but dulcet. She didn’t realize she liked the smell of cigars. Smoke flitted around him, illuminated by the backdrop of dusty sunlight behind him. When it floated above his head, it almost looked like a halo.

She returned, placing his second drink down in front of him.

“Those good?” she gestured to the cigar.

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you wanna try?”

A meek smile. “You offering?”

He shrugged, reaching out his arm to her, cigar in hand. She tried not to let her hand linger on his as she took it.

“You smoke?” he asked.

“Not really, no.”

“Don’t inhale it. Just hold the smoke in your mouth for a bit, then exhale.”

She nodded and brought the cigar to her lips, doing as he said. She drew the smoke into her mouth, held it for a second, then exhaled. She watched the smoke swirl around in between them, before glancing up to meet his gaze. A beat passed as she clung to the umber in his eyes, deep brown drawing her closer.

“Thanks,” she leaned in to hand the cigar back. She noticed his dog tag. “Logan.”

“Don’t mention it…” he trailed off, not knowing her name.

She gave it to him diligently

He left not long after that. She watched his burly frame as he got up to go.

*

The next time she saw him, it was much later at night. And more crowded.

She smelled the smoke before she saw the man. The scent caught her attention immediately and beckoned her head to the door.

He looked just as good as when she saw him the first time, if not better. He wore the same leather jacket with a different cigar hanging out of his mouth. But the same brown richness in his eyes.

Over the course of the night she went back and forth, bringing him his next drink, making conversation, trying not to stare. She could’ve been mistaken but she thought she felt his eyes on her when she was elsewhere around the bar.

“Hey!” some drunk man called to her. “I’ve been waiting for that beer forever!”

“Yup. I’m coming.”

“Like, don’t know why it’s takin’ so long,” he slurred. “It’s a beer, you don’t even have to pour it. Just open it and bring it.”

“I’m sorry for the wait, I’ll get to you in a second.”

The man looked to the people around him, like they should be as outraged as he was. “I mean, what the hell? Is it that hard?”

“Sir, please. Just give me a second.”

“Oh, oh! Give you a second?” he scoffed. “How bout give me my fuckin beer.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing a bottle. Annoyed, she placed it in front of him with a little too much force.

“Hey!” he grasped her arm, “I didn’t ask for the attitude.”

She pulled her arm, but he held on hard. “Are you kidding me? You wanna get kicked out?”

“All I want is some good service. Didn’t realize it was so fuckin’ hard—“

Her arm was suddenly free, as the man’s arm was snatched away and slammed onto the bar counter. Suddenly, Logan was standing in front of her, pinning the man’s arm down.

“What the fuck man!” the drunk idiot slurred, trying to yank his arm away. It didn’t even budge.

“Get out,” Logan ordered.

“Dick. You get out. Get off me!”

In a drunken rage, the man swung, only for his fist to be caught almost effortlessly. Logan clenched his hand on the man’s, and she thought she heard a crack. The man grimaced, trying, in vein, to conceal the fact that he was in pain.

Logan’s voice was low. “You can either leave yourself or I can escort you.”

Then he released the man’s hand.

“Jesus, fuck,” the man said, holding his own hand. He stalled for a second, looking between her and Logan. Then he left, defeated.

She rubbed her arm where he had grabbed her. “Thank you. I guess.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, no. I’m fine, he just got my arm.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything.”

“Just sorry that it happened.”

It was quietly for a moment. It was almost difficult to tear herself away from looking at him.

“Thank you,” she said, softly.

Her and another coworker made their way back to the register.

“Did that actually just happen?” the coworker asked.

“Why, you still scared?”

“And you aren’t? He seems dangerous. It’s not that I’m scared, he’s scary.”

She glanced back at Logan, who was back in his seat but seemed to be scanning the room, more specifically the area closest to her.

“I don’t know,” she tilted her head. “I don’t really see it that way.”

The coworker shook his head. “God help you with your taste in men.”

She smiled. “Hey, your good lord doesn’t need to lift a finger! I can handle it.”

She glanced back over at Logan again, only to find him already looking at her. Dangerous? That’s a maybe. Alluring? That’s for sure. She liked those odds.

*

When her shift had finally ended, she was leaving out the bar’s back door into the dead of night. She stopped short once she saw a man standing a few feet ahead of her, leaning against the wall. She would’ve been alarmed at first, but then she smelled the cigar.

“I almost just dropped dead before I realized it was you,” she took a breath; he smiled at that. “What are you doing back here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Her breath caught in the back of her throat. She held it in her mouth for a second, then exhaled. She took a step forward.

“For me?” she smiled fondly.

He pulled the cigar from his lips, letting a cloud flow from his tongue. “That’s right. The patrons here don’t seem overly civilized. Just wanted to make sure no one else was waiting.”

She was close enough that she could inhale the smoke he just breathed out. Perhaps if she focused, she could taste his tongue on it. Emboldened by the thought, she took another step closer, gently grabbing the cigar for herself.

“And they say you’re dangerous,” she inhaled.

He tilted his head. “Who said that?”

She exhaled. “Is it true?”

“Sometimes. Depends.”

“Hm.”

Ever so slowly, she brought the cigar up to his mouth and placed it between his lips. He let her, eyes attached to hers the entire time.

“I don’t feel scared,” her voice was whisper smooth.

Gently, she took hold of his hand and brought it up to her cheek. His palm was rough but strong, akin to the leather of his jacket. The leather that she was now close enough to smell. And mixed with the cigar smoke and bourbon, it was inebriating. With a tenderness that hit her just as hard as it was soft, he gently caressed the skin on her cheek.

Her nerves were galvanized. That’s right, she thought. Let me beckon the softness from you.

He took the cigar from his mouth with his other hand.

“Your hearts beating really fast,” he commented.

“What? How do you know?”

“I can hear it.”

It was dead silent. Why was that attractive? All she could feel was his hand on her cheek.

“Oh,” she paused, glued to his gaze. “Does that give me away then?”

“Were you trying to be subtle?”

“Not a whole lot.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So what now?”

“I closed the bar tonight. So no one’s there and I’m the only one with the key.”

“Is that what you want?”

“You tell me, angel.”

That was all he needed.

*

As soon as the door was shut and locked behind her, he was on her. Without thought she gave her neck to him, head thrown back against the door. Since he could hear her heart, she hoped he could feel the thrumming in her veins. To sense something so personal — so dangerous — as blood was exhilarating. Go ahead, know me, she thought. Feel me. Take me.

“Shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he gritted out during an excruciating pause from her neck.

“We absolutely should be doing this,” she breathed, basking in the feeling of his hand cradling the back of her head.

“Whoever said it — they’re right. I am dangerous.”

“You’re perfect.”

He pulled back for a moment and held her face in his hands. They were both quite breathless.

He caressed her cheek once more. “I don’t wanna get you into trouble.”

She put her hands over his.

“Does it look like I mind trouble?”

“It looks like you should.”

She tilted her head down and looked up at him through her lashes. “But look how good you’re treating me.”

His jaw clenched. “You’re evil.”

“And you’re heavenly.”

That snapped that was left of his sanity. In one quick swoop, he hooked one arm underneath her thighs and leaned her against the wall, the other hand holding the base of her neck. He dove in as she ran her hands through his hair. He moved around until he found the spot that made her grip his hair tight.

“That’s it,” he whispered.

The muscles in her back tensed.

“Bite me,” she implored.

“No.”

“Please,” she strained.

He couldn’t oppose her. And he could feel her skin growing warmer. Without enough force to draw blood, he bit down on the spot she liked, delighting in the hum from her throat she didn’t even try to hide.

“You like that?”

“I like you,” she tugged his mouth to hers and swallowed his groan at the contact.

It was heated, fast, and almost messy. Now she could taste his tongue for real. She moaned at the feeling. Just hearing her was enough to make him rut his hips against hers. He didn’t realize he was so worked up.

“Mm,” she breathed, parting from his lips for a second. “Should do that for real.”

He was holding her up with almost no effort. She was dying to find out what he could do if he was motivated.

“I can’t—“ he was interrupted by her mouth, “fuck you against a bar wall.”

“Sure you can,” her voice was coated in sweetness but was pure sex. “You’ll be real good at it too.”

“Jesus Christ.”

With haste, he grabbed the bottom hem of her top and pulled it off over her head. He put her down for a second to take his own shirt off and let her undress the rest of the way. He looked up and she was fully nude in front of him.

With a feather light touch, his hands ghosted the outline of her waist and hips. “And you called me angel.”

“Yeah. This face…” she stepped up so her chest was flush against his, hands cupping his face. “It’s dangerous how good you look.”

He could almost blush. Instead, he hoisted her up again and pressed her against the wall.

“This is how you like it?”

“Only if it’s you.”

He dove into her neck again, sucking and licking and biting where he saw fit. He reached his hand between her legs to find her eager and nearly dripping.

“Jesus. All that for me?” he whispered into her neck.

She nodded almost frantically. “Since I first saw you the other night.”

"You’re gonna kill me.”

“How about you fuck me instead.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With his spare hand he shoved his pants down just far enough. When he pushed into her they both gasped, foreheads pressed up against each other. She gripped his shoulders with both hands, trying to steady herself from the dizzying feeling of being so filled. Like her coworker said, he’s huge.

He started slow, rhythmic strokes going in and out.

“Oh fuck,” she laid her head on his shoulder.

He had one arm under her ass and one pressed up against her back, holding her like something precious.

“You okay?” he asked, planting a kiss on her shoulder, over a mark he had already left.

“Yes,” her breath was getting heavy. “It’s so deep. Fuck. Keep going.”

Obeying, he began to speed up. He started to bounce her a little bit to match the speed of his thrusts.

Her eyes rolled back. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Sound so pretty when you’re talkin’ like that.”

“You sound-,”her breath hitched, “-pretty all the time. That voice-,” a sharp inhale, “-alone could get me off.”

His pace sped up again as he unsuccessfully stifled a loud groan. “Sweet talking me like that like you want me to finish early.”

“You like it?”

“I like you.”

At this point, they’re both heaving as he’s erratically slamming her up and down against his hips. Her voice shuddered and she swung her head back, but it smacked against the wall behind her. Immediately he brought his hand up to hold the back of her head. A simple act, but she thought that was going to end her.

Her breathing then became erratic and nearly every muscle in her body started to clench.

“You close, sweet girl? You look so pretty like this.”

She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and held on tight, gasping and moaning his name over and over. And that was how she came undone. In his arms as he cradled her head, whispering endearments to her.

Once he coaxed her back to reality, she pulled away to face him and he pushed stray strands of hair out of her face. Her deep breaths began to slow and she rested her forehead on his again.

“You’re so gentle with me it makes my chest hurt.”

He laughed. “Is that a compliment?”

She laughed, too. “Like, I don’t know how I’m supposed to not fall in love with you.”

It was half a joke, half not.

“You definitely shouldn’t do that.”

“Would it be so horrible?”

“No. It wouldn’t.”

“Well, then what’s the problem?”

“It would end badly.”

“Why? ‘Cause you’re dangerous?”

“I dunno. Something like that. And if not me, then other people.”

“I think I could handle it.”

[ferrari55lover]

A day off the grid- OP81 x Y/N

WARNINGS- FLUFF

Life at 200 miles per hour was all Oscar had known for as long as he could remember. His days were consumed by racing. But today? Today was different.

"Y/N!" Oscar called as he walked into their cozy Melbourne apartment. "Guess what?"

Y/N popped her head out of the kitchen, her hands dusted with flour. "You finally remembered to get more Sugar?"

Oscar grinned. "Nope. Better. I’ve got the whole day off, and I planned something just for us."

Y/N leaned against the doorway, her eyebrow raised in suspicion. "You? A whole day off? Is the right universe okay?"

"Ha, ha," Oscar said, rolling his eyes. "Just pack a bag. I promise you’ll love it."

Two hours later, they were cruising down winding country roads in Oscar’s vintage convertible. The sun was high, the sky impossibly blue, and the radio hummed softly in the background.

"Okay, I’ll bite," Y/N said, her hair whipping in the wind. "Where are we going?"

"You’ll see," Oscar replied with a grin, his hands steady on the wheel.

When they pulled into a tiny go-kart track nestled between rolling hills, Y/N burst out laughing.

"Seriously? On your day off, you still want to race?"

"This is different," Oscar said, hopping out of the car. "No sponsors, no cameras, no pressure—just us."

Y/N crossed her arms, trying to stifle her smile. "And let me guess, I’m supposed to believe you’re not going to take this seriously?"

"I swear," Oscar said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "No competition. Just fun."

Within minutes, they were suited up and in their karts. The roar of the engines filled the air, and Oscar couldn’t help but feel a familiar rush. But this time, it wasn’t about winning—it was about sharing something he loved with someone he loved even more.

Y/N was a natural, which surprised him. She kept up through every turn, cutting corners with precision and even overtaking him on one lap.

"You didn’t tell me you were this good!" Oscar yelled over the sound of their engines.

"And let you get cocky? Never!" Y/N shot back, her laughter ringing out as she sped ahead.

By the time they finished, Y/N had beaten Oscar in one of the laps, and she was glowing with pride.

"So, Mr. Formula 1," she teased as they sat down with ice cream cones, "how does it feel to be second best?"

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head. "I let you win."

"Sure you did," she said, winking.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting golden light over the track, they sat on a low wall, legs swinging and shoulders brushing

Oscar reached for her hand, his fingers lacing through hers. "I needed this. Being with you, laughing like that—it’s better than any podium."

Y/N smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I don’t know about that. You looked pretty happy after your first win."

Oscar laughed. "Okay, fair point. But this? This is up there."

And as the stars began to appear, Oscar realized that, for once, he wasn’t chasing anything. He had everything he needed right here.

[solar4seekstron]

Before and So Forth - Chapter Eight

Transformers One Indie Series

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

Chapter Eight: Megatronus, Sentinel, and Starscream

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven

-Timeline One: Sentinel

-Timeline Two: Starscream

Content: 18+, Megatronus is such a husband in this I can’t-

TW/Tags: Angst with Starscream and a bit with Soundwave, Megatronus is my beloved OMFG, a bit of sexual harassment, death, fake death, sad endings.

Notes: While writing this for some reason I imagine his voice sounding like Bryan Tyree Henry's voice. Silly but while writing for Megatronus here I was like “OH LORD THIS MAN IS MAKING ME FEEL THINGS-“ so- yeah-.

It was peaceful in Iacon. The light making its way through the cracks in the underground Iacon city. The Sun shines through the windows of many apartments in different directions.

Megatronus awakens in his berth as the sun shines over his optics. A small smile plastered on his dermas. Optics looking at his open window.

Showing the beautiful city around and above him. A perfect way to start the day. Meanwhile to same happening to another special bot apartment. Yours.

You woke up from your peaceful recharge as soon as the sun hit your optics. For the first time in a good while. A smile was on your dermas once awaken.

Soon, sitting up on your berth. You then stood up and started to get yourself polished.

During your clean-up, you soon felt a tug in your spark. Megatronus sending you a warm feeling through the bond as a good morning. You smiled and sent another one to him. You continued after he didn't respond.

Your frame is nice and shiny all over. You chuckled to yourself. Mostly like a girly giggle. Your pedes kicked a little in the air as you sat in a chair. After grabbing a piece of energy, you made your way to your door with a skip.

Primus you must seem ridiculous, soon flying to the tower. Making your way towards the entrance. Once inside you made your way into the halls. Getting closer and closer. That’s when you ran into the chest of Soundwave. Who was waiting for you at the corner of the hall? He knew you’d bump into him once you turned to the next hall.

The halls. We’re pretty quiet. Many must have been getting ready for a mission based on the report you received before waking up.

Before you could respond, he then grabbed your wrist. Pulling your frame back against his own. His other arm moves around your waist.

His upper frame leaned forward, making your upper half lean back.

He then played through his blaster the intro song of that drama series you and Shockwave watched the other day as one of the main mech characters' voice speaks over the sound. “Let us rule to city..together. With Our Passion My Love!.”

Soundwave acting according to the scene to the sound. Not speaking. You just stared at him for a moment before crossing your arms between you both.

Trying to hold in a chuckle while he remained looking at you. You then well nonchalantly your words, taking him by surprise. “This ain’t going be enough to change my mind Soundwave?” Soundwave helm lay low while you kept staring at him with a smirk. You are both still in the same position.

Frenzy then spoke from behind. “Well, we tried. Guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

Rumble hit the back of Franzys helm while Ravage just did a frog blink. Soundwave standing fully straight while still holding you. Finally letting you go and just looked down. You then placed a cervo on his shoulder as you spoke.

”We can talk about the success of the prime after the meeting. Alright?”

Soundwave just watched you while you made your way past him. You then give Rumble and Frenzy ‘the look’ as your pet ravages on the head. Fully passing them to one of the meeting rooms with Starscream and the other primes.

Not seeing Soundwave glaring at both Rumble and Frenzy who just chuckles nervously while Ravage scratches herself against the wall.

At the meeting. You took your seat next to Shockwave. His one optic followed you while he spoke to you. His optic even doing a full 180n as he watched you walk past behind him and then sit.

“Ah, Y/N how did Soundwave's little attempt at romance drama go for you?” His voice spoke with curiosity. You let out a chuckle.

”it was as romantic as he could make it. Sadly it’s not enough as it would in a TV show.” Shockwave let out a sigh and started to read on a data pad that was in his cervo while he spoke. “I remember when he tried that with me after we broke up. It didn’t work but I still appreciated.” He said so casually.

You were reading a data pad that was at your seat. Until his words are finally processed in your mind. You then turn your helm towards him in a bit of confusion.

His optic looking down at his data pad while he is reading. His one optic showing it. You were about to ask, not being aware of his and Soundwave's former relationship. But then you’re cut off when Megatronus's voice is heard.

Both you and Shockwave turn your helms towards him. You already had your usual smile on your dermas.

So it was harder to not let it grow larger as you watched and listened to Megatronus speak. “Now then my soldiers. Today is the day the me and the other primes go to the surface to end this war. Megatron's voice boomed. Sitting at the head of the table.

Alchemist and Nexus Prime were there with him. Taking their seats at both sides of him while he spoke. You looked down at your data with your usual smile.

The others did the same while he continued to speak. You glanced at him. Seeing that he was looking at you too. Your smile grew a bit larger as your optics stared down at your data pad once more. You know he’s smiling under his mask.

He then looks back at his data pad. Never have stopped talking.

“As for the rest of you, the order is that some of you stay here to keep watch and guard the city. More of the guards coming with us as a possible backup. We already made it clear for Soundwave and Starscream to be sure to reach any of you who choose to stay in case of any changes and emergencies. Is that clear?”

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement. You placed the data pad down while Megatronus continued. He continued while you listened. Looking at him just like Shockwave did. Mostly to not seem suspicious.

“Now we leave at 2. Arriving an hour before their meet-up. Keep your guard up and don’t disappoint. You are the high guard. You don’t just serve us primes. You also serve Iacon.” For a moment he stared at everyone else. He glanced at you for a little while longer before looking away. You knew he meant that on purpose.

“Dismissed.” He kept holding his larger datapad while the other two primes then started speaking. You walking along with the others next to Shockwave.

Your optics choose to glance towards Megatronus once more. But you noticed his optics seemed almost sad while he stared down at his data pad. Nexus speaking as Megatronus and Alchemist just nodded in agreement. You continued to walk out through the hall with Shockwave.

He made sure to wave you goodbye with his cervo. You doing the same.

Then looking down at your data pad while you made your way to the waiting room to join the others. That is until someone grabbed your arm. Stopping you. When you looked back, you were met with Starscream.

A frown as usual on his dermas while he stared down at you. You spoke. Your voice is streaky and calm. “Starscream? Is something up.”

He seemed to be in deep thought before speaking. His expression and optics are a bit softer. “This mission will be very dangerous. I would hate for you and your Conjunx to join us. Because we don’t know what to expect once there.”

He leaned down a bit. His voice grew quieter.

You just stared at him with your bright yellow optics. His cervo still holding your arm. You finally responded in a hushed tone. There are still others around you two of course.

”I’ll make that choice with my partner. So you’ll see me when you see me.” You can see the annoyance in his expression. You then leaned your helm up closer to his own. His own remained still while you both continued to stare at each other.

”Why don’t we wait to do this, after the meeting yeah? See you then.” You finally leaned your helm back. Pulling your arm away and walking away from him. Starscreams cervo is now down to his side while he watches you walk away with narrowed optics.

Seeming to be deep in thought. His optics continue to stare at you, while Soundwave, Rumble, and Frenzy Peaked your helms out from the corner of the hall looking at you walk away and Starscream still standing there.

You make your way closer and closer to the room. Descending to wait to speak to Megatronus before it was time. It was still morning after all.

As you got closer, you noticed this purple femme walking by. She was built differently than the bots who you usually see around here. She just looked at you with a side optic. A frown on her dermas before she walked into a room. Sentinel quarters..You watched as the door opened.

Sentinel was there holding a data pad. As you continued walking you’d noticed this strange red button on the data pad he was holding. He didn’t seem. To notice you when she closed the door behind you.

You looked down for a moment as you kept walking with the others down the hall. So, you kept moving forward. But then you got an idea. And start to make your way to the training room you always go to. That’ll be a good place to clear your mind and possibly wait for Megatronus call.

Once there, you made sure to take a seat on the floor. Close enough to the door without getting hit. You then pulled out your sword. Not being able to use them for a while. You then looked down at it.

Seeing your reflection, seeing your scar on your cheek. You’re optics unsure and scared of what’ll happen in a few hours. It’s only the sixth day of this damn week. Yet it feels so much longer. You then look up unsure. You felt certain of your choice before. But now.

Going against bigger Quintessons. You might not come back. Even if Megatronus is there or not. If you stay then you’ll have a better chance at surviving. Waiting for his return.

But would that make you less of a warrior? Maybe not.

Staying to protect Iacon is part of your job as well. You let out a choked sob. You didn’t even realize you were crying. Everything changed in more ways than one, this week. And now you’re down to a choice that can go bad in every other way.

If Megatronus ones return to you, then it can be the end of your current relationship with Starscream, Soundwave, and possibly even Shockwave.

Primus, why can’t life in Iacon be simple?

You didn’t realize you were sitting there for several minutes. You were so deep in thought. Only being able to be taken out of your thoughts when a larger cervo placed itself on your shoulder.

You then turned your helm towards the bot. It was Megatronus. You were about to stand, but his cervo on your shoulder kept you in place.

He then makes himself comfortable next to you. His cervo then holding the side of your waist he then pulls out his cog. Making his frame turn smaller and smaller next to you. His cervo remains on your waist. He noticed the worry on your face. Then speaking. “Don’t worry. The doors are locked.”

He let out a chuckle while he took off his mask. You let out a soft sigh.

“My apologies, Megatronus. I just. Well, don’t know what’s the right choice. I wish to stay to protect Iacon and come as backup. But shouldn’t I also join you in the fight? What if…” You sigh. “Megatronus these are the higher up Quintissons. What if I’m not as strong enough?

Megatronus other cervo gently held your chin. Making you look at him, making you stop. You stared up at him while he stared down at you. You then watched as he leaned down. Giving you a gentle and loving kiss.

You return the kiss. Your optics closing while you take the moment. His optics staring down at you.

His optics are soft and bright. His white optics admire your every feature. Your kiss remains. Quiet. Yet enough to be heard in the room. You let out a soft sigh between kisses. His cervo once holding your chin moved to gently hold one of your cervos.

He is the one to pull away before leaning down again to kiss your cheek. Then your neck.

Then your shoulder. Every kiss is soft and delicate. Your optics remain close. Both his servos holding you and keeping you close to his frame. Your cervos instinctively take their place on his shoulders.

Megatronus continued for a couple more minutes before he let out a deep chuckle.

“You speak as if anything will happen to you. I will never let anything happen to you. As long as I live.” He looks at you once more. His cervo around yours gives a good squeeze of reassurance.

“Remember Sweetspark. You are MY Conjunx. So when I return. No matter what choice you make. I better see a smile on your dermas and in my arms without wasting another second.” He said all with a smile. He then let out another deep chuckle while you just stared at him with unsure optics once more.

He gives you another gentle kiss on your dermas.

His dermas only a couple of inches from yours when he pulled back. Then whispering in his softer tone. “Tonight, I’ll be the one making the dinner. You just stay by my side and look wonderful for me my love. After all. You made sure your frame looked extra nice today. Didn’t you?”

A bright yellow blush appears on your cheeks. Your optics widened a little. He noticed you cleaned up your frame with an extra polish. He let out another deep chuckle. “Make your choice my love. No matter what. We will reunite with each other.”

”I Promise.”

You responded with a shaky voice. “I know you will. My Love.” You finished. As soon as his dermas connect with yours one last time. The kiss lasted for a whole minute until he finally pulled away. Receiving a call from Sentinel.

Megatronus let out a soft groan. His cervo once on your waist moves to his audio sensors to answer the call. His other remains on your cervo.

He talked through the call while you waited. Your helm slowly and hesitantly rests on the side of your helm on his shoulder. Almost hearing his spark while he continued to speak. His frame was so warm. The side of your frame, starting with your shoulder was against his front frame.

Your optics close for a moment while trying to at least enjoy another moment with him. The call was soon over and he let out an annoyed sigh. He looked down at you. Then placing a soft kiss on the top of your helm.

Speaking once more. “I’m sorry my dear. It appears we’ll have to head out earlier. Like..30 minutes..I deeply apologize.” You panicked a little. Sitting up a little more.

Your helm and frame were no longer on him as you spoke. “Megatronus-“

”Shh shh listen. Nothing will change. It’s just the timing. Make your choice. And whatever you pick. I’ll love you as you are.”

He gives you one last kiss before pressing his forehead against yours. Optics closed for a moment. Yours closing as well. “I..” You spoke for a moment. Before continuing. “I’ll see you then. After my choice.” You gave a reassuring smile.

His smile grew a little more. He then put back on his mask. “Until then, Sweetspark.” He stood up before you. You watch while he puts on his cog and makes his way to the door while his frame grows larger. His helm turning to face you. He then gives you a nod. Unlocking the door. Then walking out.

Once the door closes behind you, you feel a warmth in your spark. Megatronus gently pulls at your spark. You let out a soft chuckle, your cervo placing itself over your chest.

You let out a soft sigh. Sitting there for another few minutes. Optics are closed while you imagine everything from this week with everyone. To when Megatronus first placed his dermas on your own for the first time. When Starscream kissed your shoulder and the many times he spoke to you.

Shockwaves questions to you when you both watched your favorite show. Your small yet meaningful moments with Soundwave. Along with what Rumble and Frenzy said to you.

Not to mention everything with Sentinel Prime. The kiss he forced upon you. And the lady from earlier today meeting with Sentinel.

Your moment last night when you finally bonded with Megatronus for the first time after such a blessed night. And then. The moment of you and Megatronus in each other's arms. Sharing a wonderful kiss just from minutes ago.

A smile remains on your dermas.

You have to make a choice now. Thinking about both Megatronus and Starscream's words..what can you do? You sit thinking for just a few more moments. As many mechs words flow through your mind.

Until you finally got it.

You stood up. Getting in front of the door. Determination in your optics as the doors soon open. You taking a step out. For a moment you glanced down the hall across from you. Where the sentinel door was, where that femme walked through. You thought for just a moment. Looking down until you pulled yourself together.

Finally, your pede takes a step before you. Making your way to your destination.

————————————————————————————————

Timeline One Sentinel

You made your way to the left to the room where bots would be staying as backup.

Opening the door where you don’t see many bots. Just two. A purple femme and a green mech were currently speaking to each other. You made your way to one of the bleachers of the lobby. Waiting for orders by one of the primes or a superior. You then send a message of a feeling through your spark.

Megatronus meanwhile was getting his weapons ready. He felt the pull through his spark. Knowing what it meant thanks to the feeling. He smiled under his dermas and sent a pull through the bond.

Letting you know it’s alright. And an “I love you” through the spark. You smiled gently while the other two didn't pay much attention.

Along with the other high guard, Starscream and Soundwave were waiting for orders near the entrance for the other primes. Ready and sure of themselves to get started with the mission. Shockwave antennas move around now and then.

It’s been almost 15 minutes since. So you sat there and waited with the other two. The two not paying much toward you. Eventually, when the high guard was about to in a couple of minutes. Sentinel then opened the door. Walking in so casually as he spoke.

” Well isn’t this interesting. Three guards choose to stay to protect the city and then join the primes. The other two bots huffing while you remained silent. He continued.

”Well, I only hope you all stay on top of your mission because who knows who we might need out there.” His helm then turned to face you. You remained still as he winked at you with a grin. “So! See you three then. If we ever need you guys of course.” He chuckled making the others scoff.

He then gave you one final look with that damn smile before casually walking out of the room. Cervos behind his back while he walks out. The doors then closed behind him. Making the room silent.

After a few minutes, the high guard and Megatronus had already left. Out of nowhere, the room became dark. You looked around, using your night vision sensors as you looked around frantically. The other two bots doing the same. You then hear one of them speak. “Hey what are you-“

SLAM

You blacked out.

After several moments, your slumber almost pencil. You’re then jolted awake with a stinging pain in your spark. You soon feel yourself screaming in pain. Finding yourself in restraints by your wrists and ankles. This continued for a moment longer until someone stabbed something into the side of your neck.

This causes you to fall asleep once more. The pain leaves sometime after you knock out.

During your slumber. You began to awaken when you heard a faded voice. Slowly your optics became online. And your frame was soon hit with much pain over your frame. On your neck and your chest.

You felt that the restraints were no longer holding you down. You slowly sit up despite the pain, soon feeling a cervo on the middle of your back. But you don’t think much to react. Sentinel's voice slowly becoming more clear. Your frame then leaned to the side. Resting against it while he stood there next to you.

His other cervo holding the side of your waist while you continue to lean against him trying to gather your thoughts. He continued while you just listened. “Shh shh hey just calm yourself. You were knocked by those traitors of guards. Luckily my apprentice arachnid saved you.”

Your optics would open and close while he spoke. Megatronus's face with his smile soon appears in your mind. You start to try moving out of his arms and off the table you were currently on.

”T-The war. Meeting. They-“ Sentinel then interrupted you. He holding you firmly by the waist and arm.

”Hold on there Y/N. I’m afraid you’re too late.” His voice almost sounded sincere. You just stared at him in confusion until he spoke once more. Turning your frame to face him. Legs dangling off the table.

”I’m afraid we…” He stopped for a moment. You then spoke as you stared at him.

Being at the same height as him. “Sentinel, what happened? Did they win? Is the war over?”

He just let out a sigh. Staring you dead in the optics as he continues. “It was an ambush. And those two bots there. We’re meant to try to kill whoever was left to send word to the damn enemies. My apprentice was able to save you in time while I was out helping the primes…I was….the only one able to make it out I’m afraid.”

He watched you as his words set in. Your optics slowly grow wider and wider from the realization.

No…no no no! NO! “No that- that can’t be right!!! They’re the Primes they can’t lose!!! I- I have to go there. Maybe at least one survived.” You were able to almost get past Sentinel until he fully wrapped his arms around you. Holding you still as you got yourself to the floor.

Tears fell from your optics while you cried out. “No not them! Not them!!” Starscream, Soundwaves, Shockwave, and Megatronus images appear in your mind as you try to get out of Sentinel's grasp.

Their smiles and joyful optics appear while your optics start getting blurry from the tears.

Sentinel continues to hold you close. Not noticing his annoyed expression while holding you back from running to the surface. Minutes went by as you kept trying to get out of his grasp. He spoke next to your audio sensors as you kept struggling.

”You need to calm yourself. There’s nothing you can do now. This was hours ago! He’s gone Y/N. They all are! We are all that’s left now! Iacon needs you now! I need you by my side to carry on The Prime legacy! You hear me?!” His words boomed in your mind. Feeling yourself slowly stop struggling.

Your frame slowly stopped while you stared at the floor. Sentinel's arms remained still for a moment longer. Slowly letting go while he sat on the floor with you. Then getting next to you.

You then felt his cervo gently holding your chin. Making you turn your helm towards him. Tears still falling while he spoke. “You must stand. You are a part of the High Guard. With you, you can carry on the High Guard legacy, even if you didn’t fight alongside them today.”

He then helped you up after grabbing both your cervos. You stood as you continued to listen to him. “Many made sure I was able to escape so the city would at least have a leader to protect them. But I can’t do that without your helm.”

He helped you sit at the table once more. You continue to stare at him as he makes himself stand between your legs.

”You can either remain strong or join me by my side. And help me keep Iacon up and running. While I search for the matrix that Primus has set to be somewhere at the surface of the planet. Or..” He paused. Leaning his helm close to yours he continued. “You can leave. And be seen as a traitor and failure just like those bots.”

You stared at him confused. “Because I’m the only bot who can protect you. So what will it be? Because I won’t wait long this time sweetspark.”

You both continue to stare at each other. You then looked down between you both as you thought of his options. But the news of the Primes dead is still racing through your mind.

His cervo held your chin once more. So your optics stare at him. Instead of a worried Sentinel as of before. He was just glaring at you.

You felt your voice caught in your throat. Your dermas parted to try to speak but couldn’t. He then got annoyed. Speaking once more as his helm leaned a little closer to yours. “If I were you, I’d say “Yes Sentinel Sir.” Because I can’t promise that I’ll be a nice leader. Understood?”

You felt yourself shake a little more. You realized. This is Sentinel.

You most likely don’t have a choice. Slowly, very slowly. You gave a nod. Sentinels had a perfect smirk on his dermas while his optics stared down at you.

You remained silent. He let out a deep chuckle, his helm leaning to be next to yours. His cervos gripping the side of your waist once I spoke once more. “Glad to have you. My personal bodyguard.” He deeply chuckled once more.

Your optics open a little. Your cervos instinctively went against his shoulders when he pulled your frame closer to his own.

His helm turned to the side to press his dermas under your audio sensors as he whispered. “I’ll have my apprentice guide you to your new sleeping quarters in the Primes tower. Give you enough time to process your grief of Megatronus.”

Tears were still falling down your optics. Sentinel stood there with a smile for a moment longer. Then turning around making his way to the door. Once the door fully shut. The tears fully went don’t.

They were gone…truly gone now. You’re alone. Your cervo then moved to hold the spot where Sentinel placed a kiss. The feeling only stinging above the spot.

The same spot Megatronus kissed.

———————————————————————————

Timeline Two Starscream, Soundwave, and Shockwave

You turned right, heading to join the other guards for the mission.

Once out of the tower you flew alongside others to the surface. Once landing, you soon see that all of the high-guards army was there.

You continued to walk deeper and deeper through the crowd. Seeing the main three somewhere at the front. Soundwave seemed to be staring in your direction. You stared at him while he stayed still. But when he moved his helm to the side you figured he must not saw you.

So you continued walking until you were somewhere near the middle but still close enough that Megatronus could see you.

After some time, Megatronus has sent you another pull. Asking if you’re alright. You of course responded and let him you’re prepared to fight for the planet. You and Megatronus continue this dance for a little while more. You tried to hold in your chuckle when he teased and messed with your spark.

You then heard the other primes coming. Zeta was the first to transform and stand. The other Primes walked behind him. Megatronus then transformed taking his place near the end. His optics dim but you know he’s staring at you.

Finding you easily in the crowd. You glance at him. You both smiled at each other while Zeta continued.

You then felt a smaller cervo grab your own. When you looked down, you saw Rumble. You had a smile on his dermas. He wanted your attention.

You looked back up at Megatronus who was still staring at you. You then got a bond through your spark. Him telling you through the bond it’s fine, to talk soon, before looking around once more. You leaned down a little. Luckily the baits in front of you were taller.

Rumble then whispered to your audio sensors without being too loud.

“You’re one of the strongest bots who works well with Soundwave and Starscream. I and the others were thinking we’d have a better chance of defeating those tentacle monsters!”

You let out a soft chuckle at his words. You thought for a moment before you nodded in agreement. He keeps his usual smile.

He then put his arms up asking for permission. You then roll your optics before picking him up. Holding him like a little kid while you both watched Zeta continue.

Once he was finished, Megatronus then glanced at you one more time. He seemed to be. Holding in a chuckle when he saw rumble in your arms like a little sparkling.

Soon it was time to leave. Zeta then yells to encourage everyone.

“Now High Guard! Let’s show those Quintessons that we cybertronians are not to be messed with!”

Everyone including yourself and Rumble cheered along together. The Primes join each other. Everyone then started to transform and fly to the destination.

You stayed behind a bit to make sure Rumble gets to Soundwave.

You then notice Megatronus pulling away his arm from Solus. You seemed to be trying to talk to him. But he was fast to transform and leave her behind. Solus then flew behind him.

You then transformed flying behind the others. Eventually at the forest waiting with the other scattered guard for orders. The main three were nowhere to be seen. And so minutes went by.

The others were speaking amongst themselves while you watched the mountain. Waiting for at least a sign from afar.

But as you were about to turn your helm away. Everyone soon got a comm link to my Starscream.

“HIGH GUARD RETREAT! WE HAVE BEEN BETRAYED!!! THE PRIMES ARE DOWN EVACUATE TO THE FOREST AND SCATTER!!!!!!!!”

The warning became a surprise. You looked at the mountain.

Only to see Quintessons and…wait what are the iacon officers doing here?! They started to shoot. You and the others soon start running into the forest.

Getting further and further from the scene. And then out of nowhere, an immediate pain surged through your spark. It was the bond. You fell to your knees. Your body falling and dragging across the dirt.

Two of the cone heads grabbed your arms on each side and started to run. Helping you while the pain continues.

One by one more guards were shot from behind. Your pedes just kept moving.

Eventually, it seemed like almost an hour went by. You and a few others who weren’t shot were able to get far enough. It was dark out. You looked around as others did the same.

The cone heads who helped you out checked on you before going their seperat way to help the others.

You stood there for a moment until Soundwave appeared to you and the others speaking about what happened. “High Guard. We have been betrayed by the one we trusted. Sentinel Prime.”

The others looked at each other while you stared at him. Shock on your face with wide optics. Soundwave then sends a message through the comms of where to go. Somewhere sentinel can’t find them.

The pain was still there but a little faded. You walked closer to Soundwave. He noticed you struggling and reached his cervos out for you.

Helping you stand after the cone heads left. You then tried to speak. “Soundwave…the primes they.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N…they’re gone..and so are many of the high guards.” You started to tear up.

Your helm pressed against his chest as you felt yourself cheer up. Soundwave then gently wrapped his arms around you. Keeping you close as the others flew off.

You continued while he stared down at you. Rumble and the other cassettes in his chest watching.

After a few moments, soundwave spoke once more. Holding you by your shoulders to move you back a little. You stared at him once he spoke. “We must move. And not fail now.”

You both stared at each other for a moment longer. After a minute, you finally gave him a nod. His cervo wipes away your tears.

You both then transform together and make your way to the others at the destination. You both flew in silence. But while it continued your mind started to race.

Flashes of Megatronus smile. His touch. His voice. Was all you heard and saw.

Your frame slowly shook when you remembered everything he told you. How everything changed so fast all at once. Your life is so different now. Everything has changed now.

But at least here. You’re not alone.

When you land at the destination. Where everyone was at an abandoned ship. Soundwave was the first to transform before you. Once you did, you wiped away the tears from under your optics.

Soundwave placed a cervo on your shoulder as comfort. Starscream and Shockwave walking over to you both.

Starscream is the first to speak. “glad to see most of us made it out alive. Y/N you were able to get out thanks to two cone heads?” You stood a little straighter. Shockwave remained quiet while you spoke.

“There was a struggle on my part..” You turned your helm away. Shockwave stared at you while Soundwave looked down at you.

Starscream realized what you meant. Soon enough he stumbled with his words for a second before speaking. “Soundwave. Shockwave. Go make sure we know how many guards we have. I wish to speak to Y/N alone.”

The two stared at him for a moment. Then back at you. Returning their stares to Starscream before giving a nod. Then walking away to give the two of you some space. Starscream stared down at you for a moment longer before taking a step closer. His expression is almost blank.

He finally spoke. “He was one of the guards closest. Wasn't he?”

He asked curious. You just gave a nod. Starscream stays silent for a moment longer. He held your chin with his cervo. Making you look at him. Speaking once more. “This is our new life now Y/N> He would want you to live. So let’s survive and carry on the high guard legacy…understood?”

You stared at him with dry optics. Then at last speaking. “Yes, sir”

He then placed the cervo once on your chin to sit on your shoulder. Reassuring you, that you aren’t alone.

Happy New Year!

[igotanidea]

(6) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

A/N: I'm damn aware it took me ages, I;m sorry! But - as many people asked for it (@pookieisme4life :D) and I DID HEAR YOU ALL, I hereby give you the preludium to the finale!! :D

MDNI!

TW: mention of self-harm/suicidal thoughts, brief description of rough s*x, bit of violence, swearing

***

FUCK!!

She felt like yelling, screaming, falling to the ground, tearing her eyes out, cutting her wrists, anything to get rid of this heavy feeling in her chest.

SO FUCKING STUPID

Falling into the same pattern of behavior as many more before her and – most probably – many more after her.

She should have known better.

No man in relationship ever leaves the girl for a lover

NO MAN.

EVER.

And yet she thought that him… that Dick… that he would be different.

She thought-

STUPID IDIOTIC IDIOT WITH STUPID UNREALISTIC BELIEFS.

Damn, it sucks to be a woman sometimes.

She hated herself.

Not only because of this stupid dickish Dick Grayson, but also because she acted like a piece of shit towards another girl.

Crossing out every single value she ever held dear to her heart.

Idiot.

***

“So, did you have fun?”

“Sienna-“

“Was she fucking better?!”

“Sienna, honey-“

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare calling me honey, right now!” she lunged at him, trying to slap his cheek, scratch his oh-so-fucking-stupid-pretty-face. To hurt him in any way possible, that could never ever measure the amount of pain she was feeling. Too bad Dick could easily predict her every move and block it with zero effort.

“Just listen to me-“ he grabbed both her wrist and held it to his heart. He should have known that her initial reaction that was almost shockingly calm would turn into a blind rage sooner or later.

Clearly sooner.

“You are –“

“A liar, a cheater and unworthy of your attention.”

“That’s not even close to truth.” Sienna struggled against him.

“What can I do to make it better?” – despite letting go off all the pretenses and running after the girl that really mattered to him?

“Nothing. We’re done here.” Finally she managed to wriggle free, walking towards the wardrobe and started throwing his clothes out.

“Don’t say that-“

“I will say whatever the fuck I want right now!” jackets, shirts, pants and even socks flew In every single direction in the room.

“Stop it- Sienna- Come on- “ he grabbed his favorite piece of clothing before it landed on the ground – “Come on-! Sienna! Stop it-!” before she realized what was happening, he was holding her waist, pressing her against the wall.

The tension in the room were tense enough to stop them from making any move, and yet, for a single moment he was way more scared than in any other life-threatening situation he encountered as Nightwing. She was angry. He saw it in her eyes. But there was also vulnerability and some sense of longing. Dick wasn’t exactly sure what this longing was for, but that look- that look of bambi Sienna put on her face made him act completely recklessly.

He kissed her.

No – not just kissed, that would be a heavy understatement.

He consumed her.

That masculine energy and confidence he was always sporting, took a very surprising form of dominance.

His lips moved with hunger, forcing her to submission, shutting down any objections she might have had, causing her body to respond out of pure instincts, moaning and melting into his arms.

Clothes flew around the room again, but this time for much different – arguably more pleasurable reasons.

He fucked her hard and rough, ending with deep, red, bloody scratches on his back and leaving little dents in the wall due to the way the bedframe kept on hitting it.

And even as he became almost brutal, she never told him to stop. If anything – begged for more, pulling him closer, taking him deeper.

As if the pain he was giving and receiving could in any way make up for the fact that for the entire time they fucked he was seeing y/n’s face.

***

“You almost ruined the entire mission.”

He couldn’t even care much enough to respond.

“Nightwing.”

“Uh-huh….”

“Do you realize you could have compromised – “

“Yeah, whatever-“

“I shall not tolerate-“

Dick rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“You are being insubordinate. Do not try to act like your brother. Teenage rebellion doesn’t suit you.”

“Teenage rebellion? Huh! Funny you say it, B, because if anyone, you are acting like a spoiled 5 year old, who gets mad and pouty when someone does a step without his permission.”

“I don’t understand what is happening to you-“

“Of course you fucking don’t!” he finally yelled, spinning around angrily, ready to fight Batman. Instead, however, his eyes grew a little wider in sudden realization. He was not a fucking pawn. He was not a fucking piece of a puzzle Bruce was trying to form to his own liking. (bright discovery for a man his age if you allow me to be a “tad” sarcastic). With that realization he jumped out of the ledge of a building like a acrobat he was and rushed to her apartment.

“NIGHTWING!”

“FUCK YOU BATMAN!”

He was still broken-hearted but for some silly reason, yelling those words into the night, illuminated by Batman’s symbol adjourning the sky like a beacon of hope felt exhilarating. Damn, next thing he knew, he could be joining Jason in his little vendetta against Bruce. How fun would it be? Two brothers, joined by circumstances and similar history, trying to get justice for-

Focus.

“Right, right, focus…” he muttered to himself. “Y/N.”

No matter what, he was going to make things right between them.  

***

Where the hell could she be at 3 am?!

Partying? Not her.

Getting drunk at the bar with guys all over her? Not for long, once he beat them all to shit.

Staying at friend’s? Maybe, but then why was her phone on the nightstand, flickering with unread notifications from a few hours ago?

“Y/N?!” he cried out into the silence of the apartment, hoping against hope that she’d answer.

She was not in the bedroom, bathroom or in the living room.

“LET GO!!”

Oh, so there she was-

Outside.

Clearly in danger.

Dick rushed to the balcony to asses the situation, but before he could do anything, she was knocked down and dragged into a car.

“Y/N!!!” he yelled desperately, but it was no use as the black SUV (the fuck it always had to be black SUVs) took off with a squeal of tires, raising a cloud of dust.

“FUCK!”

There was not much he could do at the moment.

“Come with me.”

 “Huh!”

“Jeez. Chill out, Blue.” a masked persona that appeared out of nowhere, scoffed at him, easily holding back the punch Dick aimed with his escrima sticks.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I know where they took her.”

“huh?”

“your girlfriend.”

“She’s not- well she is, but technically-“

“Focus, idiot!” the person smacked his head. Not hard enough to cause any real damage, but hard enough to made him come back to reality.

Reality in which Y/N was straightforward kidnapped.

“how do you know—”

“I just know. And now I’m your best shot at getting her back in one piece.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?”

“Trust? Ha! God forbid you’d be so foolish to trust me.”

Dick scoffed.

“Where did they take her?”

“Just follow me.”

And just like that, he followed a stranger into danger.

And despite it sounding pretty lightly due to the rhyming, this self-appointed mission was about to change the lives of not one, not two, but a whole group of people.

And maybe – just maybe – some of them – would end up irreversibly changed.

Last part will be the grand finale!!

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx @fuzzym4m4 @peachmartini @xenop0p

@leovergurl

[jjscrybaby]

𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑭𝑰𝑽𝑬 💿 — 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆

jj maybank x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (abuse, luke mentions, sad!jj, comforting!reader, jj’s a bit mean at first.)

i hate this but i needed to write something and this was all i could think of.

masterlist.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

JJ can’t remember a day of his life he’s felt one hundred percent safe. His first memories are from him being a kid, running around John B’s yard playing pirates, stealing sips of beer when Big John turned his back, catching his first fish and cooking it for him and his dad. He had fun as a kid, but the second he went home was when it wasn’t fun anymore; it was scary, dark, haunted.

It wasn’t until he was eighteen when he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, he didn’t have a weight hanging over his shoulders when the night ended and it was time to go home, his heart wouldn’t start beating out of his chest anymore and his stomach wouldn’t drop. He had someone looking out for him, he had a warm bed to fall into instead of John B’s springy couch that he’d stay on when it all got too much.

You never met JJ’s dad, but you’d heard the stories from the Pogues. Anytime you tried to talk to JJ about it he’d clam up, he’d talk to you like he didn’t even want to be around you. You learnt to drop the subject. Until he showed up, covered head to toe in bruises.

“JJ, what the fuck?” You exclaimed, rushing at him as he stumbled in the front door. He came with the smell of vodka and cigarettes.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, his voice slurred.

He fell onto the couch, letting out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes. You stood over him, eyes teary and lip quivering. “JJ. What the hell happened?”

“Hm?” He hummed, forcing his eyes open to look up at you. “The fuck you cryin’ for?”

You hadn’t even realised there were tears rolling down your cheeks. “Your face, JJ. The bruises. What happened?”

“Does it matter?” He muttered. You knew instantly it wasn’t a fight, he’d always tell you straight up if he’d gotten into trouble with a Kook or a beat down with a Pogue. There was only one person it could’ve been that did this to him.

“Yes. Talk to me, please. I want to help,” you begged, sitting down next to him on the sofa to try and grab his hand. He shrugged you off, sitting up with an irritated sigh.

“You can’t,” he muttered. “When’re you gonna get that? You can’t do shit about this.”

“If you’d just—”

“Nah, man. You really don’t get it. I mean, shit. Me and you grew up in very different households, and just ‘cause we’re together doesn’t mean you get to butt in and try help because you want to play hero,” he snapped. You froze up, blinking at him in surprise.

“I’m not trying to play hero,” you argued shakily.

He scoffed out a humourless laugh, standing up from the couch with a shake of his head. “I’m not doin’ this shit with you, man. Call me when you’ve realised you’re not a damn therapist.”

“JJ!” You exclaimed as he started to walk out the house. “You can’t just leave!”

You expected for him to turn around, at least sit back down, but that didn’t happen. He kept walking, the sound of the door slamming echoing around the empty house.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

It took two days for you to decide enough is enough. He didn’t call, didn’t text, you even tried to ask John B if he’d heard from him but he hadn’t. You were angry at first, upset and hurt at the way he’d spoken to you, but after giving yourself time to think about it you realised that that wasn’t fair. JJ was hurt, he was the one that had to deal with Luke Maybank since he was born, and you were going to be there for him; whether he liked it or not.

By the end of the day you’d called him forty six times, texted eighty and left seven voice mails. He hadn’t answered whatsoever, but at least he’d know that you cared enough to try. You laid in bed, eyes open as you stared up at the ceiling, the sound of the front door being unlocked caught your attention. You looked towards your door as you heard footsteps coming down the hall, and when it opened you let out a sigh of relief.

“JJ,” you murmured as he walked in. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and healing bruises around his face.

“Hi,” he greeted quietly, kicking his shoes off.

He hesitantly sat down on the edge of the bed, as if you were going to kick him off, you sat up and threw your arms around him. He leant his head on your shoulder, letting out a quiet sob as you stroked his back.

“It’s okay,” you said softly.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, clinging onto your waist. “I shouldn’t have left— should’ve answered you.”

“Don’t apologise.” You were happy that he understood where he’d gone wrong, but now wasn’t the time for him to feel guilty.

“I don’t want you to think I’m weak,” he explained quietly.

You let out a hum, stroking his hair. “The last person in the world that I think is weak is you. You’re literally the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m used to runnin’ away when things get too much, I— I’m not used to havin’ someone like you around who doesn’t want me to do that,” he admitted.

You pulled away from him slightly, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you wiped away his tears. “You don’t need to run away, JJ. You’ve got me, you’ve got a home.”

He smiled softly at you, leaning in to kiss you. His lips tasted salty from the tears, but you didn’t mind. “I love you,” he murmured against yours.

“I love you, too.”

[paceprompting]

Countdown to '86

written for ‘midnight’ and ‘confession’ | wc: 1000 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: pre-season four, getting together, steve has a crush on eddie, eddie finally gets a clue

@steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas

Part One Part Two Part Three

Eddie had decided not to go to the New Year’s party.

Really.

He and Wayne had finally saved enough to get the van fixed. There was no reason to not spend one night with his uncle by going to a party at Steve’s Harrington house instead.

The jacket sat in its pristine Bloomingdale’s box on his desk, taunting him.

He had no idea whether or not it fit, or if he would have a miraculous allergic reaction and could honestly never wear it.

There was (unfortunately) only one way to find out.

He had a floor-length mirror in his room, and he stared at himself in the black denim jacket that Steve Harrington had given to him as a Christmas present.

It fit. Perfectly.

Not too tight at the shoulders. Simple design, easily alterable to Eddie’s aesthetic.

Why the hell had Steve given this to him?

He could wait until after winter break to find out. Corner Steve in the parking lot and demand an explanation. But that was another week where Eddie would have to stare at the jacket and tear his hair out over the questions.

Eddie wasn’t going to go to the New Year’s party.

But he had no other choice.

Having made a decision, Eddie didn’t remove the jacket before he drove off toward the Harrington house. He didn’t bother parking a block away, setting up right in front.

He didn’t have his lunchbox, so anyone sober enough would realize that Eddie was horribly out of place. Hopefully, his stride was quick enough that he could get in, get some answers, and then get the hell out.

Finding Steve was easy.

Eddie nearly smacked him with the front door, the drink in his hand sloshing onto the floor. Steve didn’t miss a beat, avoiding the door with a move Eddie recognized from gym.

“Hey,” he said, eyes quickly traveling over Eddie. He smiled when he noticed the jacket. “You wore it. Fit okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie glanced at the crowd, already getting bumped into two feet into the house. He shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “We need to have a discussion.”

If Steve was surprised, he only gave it away with a single blink. Otherwise, he took the request in stride, tilting his head toward the staircase.

“Upstairs?”

Eddie nodded quickly, not bothering to wait for Steve before he shouldered through the crowd and made a beeline for the (somehow) familiar space of Steve’s bedroom. He kept his back to the door until Steve closed it behind them, muffling Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve.  

Eddie turned and came right out with it.

“You gave me a present.”

It wasn’t the smoothest start to a conversation, since Steve only furrowed his brows at what Eddie has basically phrased as an accusation.

Eddie swallowed. Tried again.

“You gave me a ride. We hung out at the mall. And you got me…a present.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” Steve agreed plainly, standing in the low light of his bedroom in his dark blue Henley and jeans.

“Why?”

“I—” Steve wavered, setting his drink on his dresser.

Eddie scoffed. “Seriously, Harrington, this is really involved if you’re just going to fuck with me. I’d rather you just came out with it.”

Steve took a long breath, his eyes downcast to the floor.

His voice, when he spoke, was barely loud enough over the sound downstairs.

“Are you going to believe me if I said I wanted to do all those things?”

“No,” Eddie said.

It was the truth. Mostly.

Steve looked at him from under his lashes, with a strange determination that contradicted the whole conversation.

“Could I prove it to you?”

Eddie found himself nodding.

And then Steve crossed the room, his warm hand sliding along Eddie’s jaw to tilt his head up to meet the soft press of his lips.

And things made…a little more sense.

Eddie inhaled through his nose, but Steve didn’t push. He moved their mouths once to make the kiss last that much longer, and then pulled back, his hand still on Eddie’s face.

It was certainly proof.

“What time is it?” he asked.

Later, if asked, he would have chocked it up to his brain severely malfunctioning from the whole being-kissed-by-Steve-Harrington thing. Otherwise, he would not have still been standing so close to him.

“What?” Steve asked.

“How much longer until midnight?”

Steve shook his head slightly, glancing over Eddie’s shoulder toward his bed. Maybe to an alarm clock.

“Few minutes,” he answered.

Eddie could work with that.

“So,” he wet his lips. Steve glanced at it, unable to hide that he’d done so. “This all start in the car?”

“No.”

“The mall?”

Steve chuckled, the sound vibrating in his chest where Eddie was pressed against him. “Lunch. I don’t really remember which one.” He got this look on his face. Eddie nearly called it fond. “You’re hard to miss.”

“Pretty sure most people would prefer I cracked my head on floor during those.”

Eddie tried for dismissive, but Steve easily sidestepped.

“You’re so…free. Defiant,” Steve continued, his thumb dragging across Eddie’s cheek. He’d nearly forgotten it was there. “So different than I am. Better.”

How that led to standing in Steve’s bedroom, seriously considering having Steve’s mouth on his again, he had no idea.

Eddie didn’t have to ask for the time. The crowd downstairs had started the countdown.

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

He’d said it before. People like Steve and people like Eddie didn’t…mesh.

“Just you,” Steve answered, biting his bottom lip. “If you’d like to, I mean.”

For weeks, Eddie had been blind. And it went against every part of him he’d thought was set in stone, what had gotten him through years of bullshit. Every part determined to say that boys like Steve did not want boys like Eddie.

“Damn it, Harrington,” he said, as the crowd cheered the last second of a passing year and Eddie pressed his mouth hard to Steve’s.

Tag list: @here4thetrama @tillystealeaves @th30ra3k3n @fairytalesreality @rabidhungryrat

[yanderes-galore]

Hi hope you’re doing ok ! Would it be alright if I request a Short story for yandere romance MK where the reader(if possible female if not gn is fine) finds out about his weird dark hobbies /thoughts. Reader tries to keep her distance only for it to backfire immediately. Now reader is trying to escape from MK only for the reader to bump into Mei, hoping to be helped the reader goes to her only for dragon girl to trick them and lead them back to MK much to the reader betrayal and MK joy 🌺anon 

Sure! Doesn't look like I added your anon name to my list... so I'll do that before this is posted :) Anyways, I hope I did well... Here's delusional MK having Mei help him keep you for himself.

Two Faced

Yandere! MK Oneshot (With Enabler! Mei)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Stalking, Mei enables MK, Implied kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Clingy behavior, Secret picture taking, Unwanted affection (Kisses and hugs), Consensual turned forced relationship.

It was hard to say 'no' when it came to your ex, MK. He didn't force you into anything... but it was hard to stand your ground when he gave you those damn puppy eyes. Unfortunately... you were going to hit your limit at some point.

MK had always been... clingy. Clingy to the point it began to cause problems in your life. You loved him, you really did...

But he could never leave his girlfriend alone if he tried.

You immediately knew something was wrong when you noticed MK's strange behavior. Normally you never suspected a thing, he was just clingy and overly attentive. He's such a sweetheart...

One who apparently stalks his girlfriend.

It was when you found his diary and secret photo album that you noticed MK's behavior. You had a feeling he was watching you. With all those powers of his, anything was possible...

Those items were your breaking point.

You had broken up with MK since you found out his behavior. It was a difficult process, MK didn't make it easy to leave him. Not with all his pleading and tears....

You had distanced yourself from MK after the breakup. You knew he wasn't taking it well. How could you not when he kept blowing up your phone or kept trying to follow you around?

Mei had been the one you usually go to in order to vent. You had told her all about MK's behavior. You worry about him, but at the same time, you're concerned about his unhealthy behavior.

Mei always smiles and nods, listening to your pleas. She's a good friend of MK's too, yet she knows he's been strange lately. It hurts you both to see him cry... but he'll get over it...

....

He never did.

"Baby, please! I miss you!" MK pleads as you run. His condition has only seemed to worsen since the last time you saw him. Has he even showered properly?

"You were supposed to be my girl! I'm sorry I messed up, baby... please come back! I'll be better!" MK yells while you run through the quickly darkening streets.

He had waited until after work to confront you. You had just gotten out of your own job, expecting to walk home like normal. Unfortunately, when you got home...

MK was there with a nervous smile, twitching eagerly as he tried to go in for a hug.

After that you had ditched. You needed to run. You needed to go find help... but who could you—?

Your eyes widen when you see the familiar green attire of your friend. You run down an alley, waiting for MK to pass, before approaching Mei. Tears are in your eyes... you're out of breath...

"Help...!" You plead, Mei giving you a surprised look.

"Hey, girl... what's wrong?" Mei asks, looking concerned with you being so out of breath.

"MK... He's lost it! You gotta help me... I don't know how to fix this...!" You plead, Mei nodding in thought.

"... alright, come on, let's fix this." Mei agrees, quietly taking your hand. You give a thankful smile and follow your friend gratefully.

You're led through the streets. You assume Mei might take you somewhere to get help, or maybe even let you rest at her home. Either way... you feel very comforted by your friend...

However...

After a few minutes you find yourself in front of MK.

"W-What are you doing!?" You plead, looking at Mei with hurt eyes. Her own gaze is conflicted... yet determined.

"You wanted to fix things... right?" Mei whispers, glancing at MK. "In order to do that... maybe you two should talk?"

You can't believe what you're hearing.

"Mei! You found her! You actually found her!" MK squeals, giddy over the fact he finally has his girlfriend back. "Yes! Come here, baby...."

You yelp when MK pulls you into a bone crushing hug, Mei awkwardly watching from the side. She feels horrible... you didn't deserve this. But at the same time...

She couldn't bear to watch MK cry over you anymore, it only made him more destructive....

You struggle but MK is stronger than you. He peppers you in kisses and hugs, whispering pet names as he clings to you. You can't tell if you want to cry... or scream....

"Thank you so much, Mei..." MK whispers, glancing up at his friend. "I'm going to take my baby home now, she and I have some... catching up to do."

Mei nods quietly, watching as MK drags you down the street. You're struggling, tears brimming your eyes as you look to Mei for help. Mei hesitates... but doesn't react.

MK needs you...

Hopefully things go back to normal after this since he has you... right?

[dragonflylady77]

only with you

The secrecy has been lifted, and I can finally reveal the fic I wrote for @billysblueeyes for @harringroveholidayexchange. The brief was some domestic fluff, GBFs, Billy and Max bonding, and some smut. I think I delivered.

Rating: M | 2185 words | domestic fluff, a dash of smut, harringrove parents

Summary:

Billy and Steve are hosting Christmas dinner at their house. Domestic fluff with a sprinkling of smut. And kids.

Read on Ao3

Steve watched Billy sigh and scrunch the piece of paper he’d been scribbling on into a ball.

“Babe…” Steve started as Billy threw the newly formed ball towards the trash can, narrowly missing it.

“Not now, Stevie, I’m concentrating. Need it to be perfect.”

A warm feeling unfurled in Steve’s chest. He walked across the living room to stand behind his husband at the breakfast bar and plastered himself against Billy’s back, hooking his chin over Billy’s shoulder. “It will be.”

Billy grunted as he grabbed another piece of paper and started again, pencil moving quickly across the page, lines and swirls filling the space. 

“You got this.” Steve dropped a kiss on his cheek before moving away. Best to leave Billy in his creative bubble. This stage of tattoo design was usually the most frustrating for him and the added pressure of this particular one was bound to stress him even more. It wasn’t every day that Billy had to come up with a matching tattoo with Max as a surprise Christmas present.

After checking that Noah was still fast asleep in his crib, Steve gathered the dirty laundry and put a load of washing on. It was early enough in the day that he would have time to hang it before their guests arrived. He double checked the guest rooms were ready then went back to the kitchen and made some coffee.

A few more scrunched up balls of paper had joined the growing pile by the trash can. He picked them up, feeling Billy’s gaze on him as he straightened up. He turned around to see Billy staring at him with a smirk.

“See something you like?”

“You know I do, baby,” Billy replied, unfolding himself from the stool he’d been sitting at for over an hour and walking to Steve, stopping when he was standing toe-to-toe with him. Steve went willingly when Billy put both hands on his hips and pulled him closer.

Leaning into the kiss was second nature at this point. Steve hummed softly as he wrapped his arms around Billy’s neck, fingers running through the unruly curls that had escaped his messy bun. Parting his lips when Billy nibbled on his bottom lip, and too focused on the heated way Billy licked into his mouth like he wanted to devour him, Steve let himself be walked backwards until his back was against the wall.

Billy abandoned his mouth to nibble a path down the column of his neck and Steve relished the feel of his husband’s body pressing against his—had since that day Billy had cornered him in the locker room after basketball practice, really. 

Steve’d had enough of the endless taunting and had surprised both of them when he’d grabbed the lapels of Billy’s open shirt and planted one on him... He’d been really late picking up Dustin from school after that and endured a million questions about the hickey on his neck. It had all been worth it, though, when Billy had shown up at his house later that night. They had been together since. 

Billy’s hands pushing on his hips brought him out of his little trip down memory lane and he startled when he realized Billy was on his knees in front of him.

“Billy, babe, your knee…” Steve protested, in a feeble attempt to spare Billy some unnecessary pain on Christmas Day. His knee hadn’t been the same since that fateful night Neil Hargrove had found out about them and taken to Billy with a golf club.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, pretty boy, I’ll pay for it later,” Billy countered as he kept undoing Steve’s pants and pulling them down his thighs. “Some things are more important,” Billy whispered, nuzzling Steve's cock over his boxers, before he moved a hand up under the hem to cup Steve, giving him a squeeze. 

Billy looked up, the blue in his eyes nearly eclipsed by his pupils, and Steve shared the hunger he could see on his husband’s face. Always had, from the first day he’d seen Billy show up in that blue Camaro at Hawkins High. 

Keeping the eye contact, Billy then carefully extracted Steve’s cock out of his boxers and used the precum beading at the tip to help his hand slide better as he got Steve fully hard.

Steve held back a moan, bucking his hips, searching for more.

“So greedy, Stevie… always so greedy,” Billy said with a grin. 

“Shut u—” Steve bit down on his hand to stop from crying out when Billy swallowed him down to the root without another word.

Steve stopped trying to make words, all thoughts that were not BillyBillyBilly fleeing his mind. His free hand found a home in Billy’s hair, hanging on for dear life when Billy did that thing with his tongue that made Steve see stars.

Too soon, way sooner than Steve would have liked, he reached his peak and came down Billy’s throat, remembering just in time to keep quiet. Knees threatening to buckle, he helped Billy up, and was still trying to get his breath back when he heard cries.

“Fuck!”

Billy chuckled. “Impeccable timing, your son.”

“Oh, now he’s my son, is he? I don’t remember doing a DNA test…”

“You can deny it all you want, baby, but he’s got your eyes, and your gorgeous hair.”

“Whatever,” Steve retorted with an eyeroll. “I’ll go get him.” He put his pants back on and gave Billy a quick kiss. “You better get back to your design, they’ll be back soon.”

Billy nodded and Steve headed down the hallway.

“Stevie?”

He stopped and turned to look at Billy, who was standing by the wall still, his curls a messy halo around his face, his shirt kind of askew, his jeans looking kind of tight in the front. “Yeah?”

“You owe me.”

Steve snorted. “I love you, too.”

***

Billy picked up his pencil and tried again. He could see the design in his head but, for once, didn’t seem to be able to get it onto the page. He knew moving to the iPad, like he usually did when working on a design for a client, would not help. Not for this particular one.

He heard Noah’s cries stop as Steve’s soothing voice carried from the nursery. His pretty boy seemed to be a natural at this being a parent thing, to the surprise of exactly no one. 

Some days, Billy still found it hard to believe that he was a dad. It wasn’t something he’d ever even remotely considered, too scared he would turn into his father. But Steve’s gentle loving, and a few years of therapy, had convinced him to give it a go. And now, he wouldn’t change it for anything. Steve and their kids were his whole world. 

The jingle of a key in the front door ten minutes later pulled him out of his creative bubble and he turned around to see some of his favorite people enter. Maisie ran at him with a happy screech and wrapped her arms around his neck when he picked her up. Robin and Heather followed at a slower pace, carrying a mountain of bags.

“I didn’t realize you ladies were buying everything at the store today,” Billy said with a smirk that earned him a sneaky middle finger behind his daughter’s back.

“Papa! Did you know, Auntie Hank said I should get Daddy ice cream from Scoops for his Christmas present and that’s just silly, because it would melt!”

Putting his five-year-old daughter down, Billy turned to his best friend. “How about we don’t bring up traumatizing memories for Christmas, Hank? Please?”

“Sorry, Billy,” Robin answered for Heather. She put down the half-dozen bags she was holding and collapsed into a chair. “We walked past the vendor with the samples and things were said. Now, where is my godson? I need cuddles.”

“You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid,” came Steve’s voice from the hallway. “Unless you want to help me with his bath.”

“Oooh, yes, I’m coming!” Robin left the room, Maisie hot on her heel.

Billy chuckled when he heard the little girl asking to jump in the bath with her brother and turned to Heather. “Hey, you.”

“Hey back. Did you get it done?” Heather walked over to the breakfast bar and sat on a stool, looking over the pieces of paper.

Sitting next to her, Billy let out a sigh before bumping shoulders with her. “Not gonna lie, Hank, I’m struggling.”

“Oh, come on, Blue. She’s your sister, surely you can come up with something.”

“That’s the thing though, it can’t be just anything. It needs to be special. And perfect.”

“It will be. Maybe you just need to freestyle it, like you did for us,” Heather said, her finger tracing the lines of the Hawkins Lifeguard tattoo they’d both got on their arm.

“Maybe.” Billy wondered if maybe she was right. 

“What time are they getting here?”

Billy checked his phone and found a text from Max letting him know they had just parked outside. “Right now, apparently. I’ll go see if they need help.”

Leaving Heather to unpack the bags, Billy grabbed his keys and headed out.

Excited voices welcomed him in the driveway.

“Uncle Billy! Uncle Billy!”

“Hi, guys!” He grinned as his nephews crowded him and they did their special hand shake. He had been told in no uncertain terms at their last birthday that seven years old was too old for cuddles.

“Uncle Billy! The plane was late because of the snow. We had to sit in our seats for aaaaages and Wyatt cried like a baby.”

“Did not.” Wyatt glared at his brother, fists at his sides.

“You so did. I saw you.”

“Arlo William Sinclair, what did I tell you about being an A-hole to your brother?” Max warned her son before stopping in front of Billy and dropping the bags she was carrying. “Hey, Billy.”

Billy wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her close while Lucas called the boys back to the car to get their backpacks. Max held him tightly, her cheek pressed against his neck. Billy whispered, so the boys wouldn’t hear. “Good to see you, shitbird.” 

“It’s been too long. I can’t wait to finally meet that son of yours.”

“Well,” Billy started, letting go of her, “if you guys moved to Cali like I’d been telling you since the twins were born…”

“We’re trying, I promise. I need to finish this enormous project at work, we’re so close to being done, after three freaking years… then I’ll talk to my boss.”

“Okay. Noah is in the bath, which means your niece will be in there too. Stevie and Robin are supervising.”

Max groaned. “Oh, god. That means your bathroom will be flooded, I hope you know that. And there won’t be any hot water left for me to wash the plane off.”

“There’s cold beer in the fridge, and enough food to sink a small ship in the meantime.”

“Lead the way, Hargrove.” Max laughed when Billy pinned her with a glare.

He’d taken Steve’s last name when they’d got married, letting go of the last piece of his father that was still in his life, and Max knew it.

“Whatever, Maxine.” He picked up the bags she’d dropped at his feet and high-tailed it to the door before she would swat him on the arm.

Arlo and Wyatt followed him, saying “Maxiiiiiiiiiiine” louder and louder, to their mother’s annoyance.

***

Steve looked around the living room where most of the people he loved were gathered. They’d had a delicious, yet unconventional, Christmas Eve dinner, made up of various random dishes everyone had contributed to. Afterwards, they had opened presents and Max had absolutely loved the idea for their matching tattoo, like Steve had said all along.

Now, after Christmas mince tarts and ice cream, Heather and Robin were chatting animatedly with Max and Lucas on the sectional couch while Maisie, Arlo and Wyatt were lying on cushions in front of the tree, looking rather blissed out, and Billy…

Feeling someone next to him, Steve turned his face and found his husband, who was cradling their sleeping infant son against his chest.

“You okay, pretty boy?” Billy asked, his hand moving slowly up and down Noah’s back.

“Yeah, I was… I don’t know… looking at our family, thinking how happy I am that they’re all here, at our house.”

“We did good.”

“Yeah, babe, we sure did,” Steve replied, putting one arm around Billy’s waist and looking down at their son.

“Bet you didn’t think we’d be married with kids before your thirtieth birthday when you dragged me into the locker room all those years ago.”

Steve scoffed. “Excuse you, you’re the one who shoved me first. I merely… acted on impulse.”

“Right… so your immediate reaction when a guy pushes you is to shove your tongue down his throat? Is that what you’re saying? Did that happen a lot to you in high school, King Steve?”

Steve smiled.

“Only with you, baby.”

[idk6123]

Abusive And Loving (Soldier Boy X Male Reader)

Long before The Seven, there was another superhero group, Payback. And although they appeared grandiose with their god-like strength, like every superhero group, secrets lurked behind the scenes. The Seven weren’t the first to have these secrets. At least Payback appeared to have things under control, back in 1980. That’s what the public thought, at least—not the members of Payback.

As the entire team stood frozen, their teammate, Black Noir, had just been beaten to the floor. But that didn’t stop Soldier Boy, who continued pounding on his teammate. While everyone was too scared to intervene, one person wasn’t.

“That’s enough!”

Soldier Boy was shocked when his arm was pulled back right before he could kick Black Noir again, with Noir spitting blood. The leader turned to see his teammate, Chrono, also known as Y/N—the man who could manipulate time itself.

Soldier Boy yanked his arm back and glared. “Don’t fucking interfere!”

Just as he was about to throw a punch at Y/N, the time manipulator casually dodged. Enraged, Soldier Boy kept trying to punch him. But no matter how many punches he threw, Y/N dodged every one. Sometimes it took effort, but mostly it was effortless, which only annoyed Soldier Boy more.

“I can just rewind everything. Stop trying to hit me.”

Despite Y/N’s logic, Soldier Boy kept going. It got to the point where he chased Y/N out of their hideout and into an empty park in the dead of night. Even as time passed, Soldier Boy’s anger didn’t subside.

As he charged into the park, searching for Y/N, he ran past a tree—only to get smacked by a branch. Falling to the ground, Soldier Boy quickly looked up, his face stinging with pain, and saw the culprit.

“Holy fucking shit—how many times do we need to do this!?” Y/N sounded annoyed. “You always try to hit me, but you can’t, and you know fucking why!”

“Then stop rewinding and let me beat the shit outta you!” Soldier Boy shouted, standing up, ready to fight again.

“Oh my—I'm going to try something...” Y/N muttered.

Right before Soldier Boy could strike, Chrono touched him. The soldier froze completely, suspended in time. Though he could look around, listen, and breathe, he couldn’t move. When he tried to talk, all he could manage were muffled hums.

“Oh, cool, my stasis works.” Y/N said, sounding surprised. Soldier Boy tried to glare at him, but it was futile. “Anyway, I’m fucking done with you trying to beat me into a pulp, so I’ll give you a couple of options. One, I can kill you. Two, I can turn you into a child or something and raise you right. Three, we can talk, like… actual adults are supposed to do. …Dunno about a fourth.” Soldier Boy merely stared at him, not that he had much choice. “Right, you can’t answer. Just… hum the number of times for the option you want.”

After some hesitation, Soldier Boy gave up his pursuit of beating Y/N and hummed three times.

“Finally…” Y/N muttered as he removed the stasis, causing Soldier Boy to fall to the ground. “If this is some trick, I swear—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Soldier Boy stood up. Though he wasn’t trying to fight anymore, he was still pissed.

“Okay, that’s an improvement.” Y/N said casually. “Look, I’m gonna make this easier for you. Since you’re not a talker—clearly, may I add—I know a few things about processing your emotions.”

Soldier Boy groaned. “Please shut up.”

“We can go on a road trip.” Soldier Boy looked annoyed as Y/N listed out suggestions. “We can paint or do some kind of creative outlet—really fun, by the way. Uhm… a rage room, but I think we’d need a rage building for you.”

“You’re making this really hard to not beat you.” The soldier shamelessly commented.

“Fine, fine. Uhh… alcohol and drugs probably aren’t good. Oh, how about sex?”

Soldier Boy stared at Y/N, trying to read if he was joking or not. “I hope you’re not saying we should fuck.”

“Why not?” Y/N replied nonchalantly.

“I’m not a faggot.”

“Yeah, and every rich guy says that too until they go on a business trip with their ‘friends.’”

Soldier Boy sighed, looking around to make sure no one was nearby. When he looked back at his teammate, he saw a smirk. Resigning to his frustration, the soldier unbuckled his pants and got ready to take them down.

“Get those fucking pants off.”

-

Ever since that day, Soldier Boy’s and Chrono’s relationship evolved into something more than just teammates. Although it wasn’t official, they formed a bond that was more than just hook-up partners. While Soldier Boy didn’t notice it, Chrono did.

During their stay in a war zone, the team holed up in a hotel. Feeling his usual anger, Soldier Boy sought comfort beyond beating someone down. After some fun minutes, he and Y/N lay under the sheets, completely naked. Feeling slightly relieved, Soldier Boy grabbed a cigarette and began smoking.

“Wasn’t the sex good enough?”

Soldier Boy glanced back with a smirk. “You could be more… licky.”

Y/N chuckled. “Next time I lick your pistol, soldier.” The brunette chuckled again, taking another drag from his cigarette. That’s when the other hero leaned closer, looking more serious. “…Do you notice we’ve been spending more time together?”

Soldier Boy looked intrigued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I… I feel like I see you differently. Instead of that maniac who beats his teammates, I see you as a troubled man… that also beats his teammates.”

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” Soldier Boy asked, genuinely interested rather than angry.

“Yeah.”

Soldier Boy raised an eyebrow. “Well, what is that supposed to mean? Out with it.”

“I… I feel like we’re a couple.” The soldier looked surprised, while Y/N seemed a bit nervous—a rare sight. That meant one thing.

“You didn’t rewind this before.”

“Yeah… this is the first try to tell you how I feel…” Y/N admitted, expecting Soldier Boy to be angry, but instead, he just looked intrigued. “I’m okay if you don’t feel this way, but…”

“You love me?” Soldier Boy asked bluntly.

“…Yeah, I guess.”

Soldier Boy hummed, taking another drag before speaking. “Look, I’m okay with this whole hooking-up thing, but I’m not a faggot.” He then glared at Y/N. “Not a fucking joke.”

“I wasn’t.”

Sensing Y/N’s sincerity, Soldier Boy eased up slightly. “It’s not that I hate this. It’s just wrong to be with another man. I get that things are more accepting, but… I’m not supposed to be… this.”

Y/N hummed quietly. “You haven’t said what you really feel.” Soldier Boy wondered what he meant. “…You only said how society views this, not how you feel.”

Soldier Boy stared at Y/N, thinking for a while before answering. “I can’t promise you anything. I don’t want a relationship where we hold hands while walking, or I take you out to the movies, or we get married and everyone’s there to see it.”

“You still haven’t said how you really feel.”

Letting out a sigh, Soldier Boy wished Y/N would stop questioning him. “Look, it’s not fucking easy. Just because I want to be with you doesn’t mean we fucking can!”

While Y/N flinched, he soon calmed down. “You want to be with me…”

The soldier breathed deeply as he calmed down. “I guess…” With hesitation, he moved his hand to Y/N’s face, touching it gently. “This stays fucking between us. If you ever tell anyone—”

“You kill me. Fair.” Y/N smiled softly. “So… we’re a couple, Ben?”

Benjamin eventually cracked a smile. “Couple is a strong word… but, if you say we’re a couple, I won’t argue.”

-

A year has passed, during which Y/N and Ben often went on business trips that doubled as romantic getaways. Today, Chrono has a surprise for his lover. Inside the car, Y/N is driving while his boyfriend’s eyes are covered with a towel.

“When you said my eyes had to be covered, I thought we were doing something freaky.” Soldier Boy comments with a smirk. “Or that it was taking you this long to get to the freaky part.”

“Nothing weird. You just have to wait and see the surprise.”

As the trip continues, Soldier Boy smiles carefree, alongside his partner. Wearing something casual, it feels like one of the rare times they’re just normal people.

A couple of minutes later, they arrive at their destination. Y/N helps Ben out of the car. The soldier instantly feels grass beneath his shoes. As they walk, Ben begins to guess what the surprise could be.

“All right, we’re here.” Y/N says with excitement.

“Finally.”

“Now, three… two… one…”

The blindfold is removed. Ben now sees a big farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Despite the isolation, the place feels peaceful. There aren’t any farm animals or crops yet, but the house looks like it has potential.

“Don’t tell me we’re going to be farmers.” Ben says.

Y/N chuckles. “Even better.” He steps in front of his partner, holding up a set of house keys.

Shocked, Soldier Boy doesn’t know what to say. “You bought a house?”

“I bought a house for us.” Y/N responds with a smirk while Ben still looks stunned. “Somewhere peaceful, so we don’t get bothered by anyone anymore.”

“You’re thinking about retiring?” Soldier Boy already sounds hesitant.

“No. This is just our getaway place.” Y/N looks back at the large farmhouse with a smile. “Just… somewhere we can go to pretend the world isn’t shit. I don’t expect us to come here every day, but… once in a while… it could be fun.”

As Y/N looks back, Ben relaxes a bit. “And here I thought you wanted us to retire, get married, grow old, and start a family.”

Chrono chuckles. “Maybe later.” He places the keys into his partner’s hand and holds it. “I get that you’re still struggling with being with another man. And… I’m proud of you for handling it so well. But I still want to feel like we’re a normal couple.” Soldier Boy listens closely as his boyfriend shares his thoughts. “So… can we at least try to act like a normal couple?”

“You say that, but who’s going to act like the wife between us?” Ben asks. “I’m not one to cook for others.”

“We’ll both be the husband, dumbass.” Y/N laughs. “Well, guess we’re boyfriends for now.”

Ben raises an intrigued eyebrow. “For now?”

Y/N sighs. “You know what I mean.”

Ben chuckles. “Fine. If it makes you happy, let’s stay here for a couple of days.”

“Thanks.” Y/N says with a genuine smile.

-

When nighttime arrives, the couple is watching TV. Feeling cheesy, they’re watching TV shows and movies featuring Payback. With popcorn on Y/N’s lap, they’re spooning while eating from the bowl. Dressed in sweats, they feel comfortable and relaxed.

“You’re a great singer.” Y/N comments.

“Thanks.” Soldier Boy replies. “And you’re a great actor.”

“Yeah, but I kinda had a bad attitude behind the scenes. Made sure to kill those damn directors before rewinding back.” Y/N laughs, taking another handful of popcorn. “Kinda wish it could be like this every day.” He looks back at his lover. “I know we’ve got jobs as heroes, but… maybe retiring isn’t so bad.”

“I get that.” Ben says, feeling completely comfortable. “Out here, I can just be myself.”

As the couple smiles lovingly at each other, staring into one another’s eyes, Ben suddenly has something to say.

“Maybe one day, we can get married and just… live here.”

Y/N’s smile grows. “For someone who didn’t want to admit we’re a couple, you sure grew out of that.”

“I’m serious!” Ben laughs. “I… really like where we are and where we’re heading.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Ben says confidently. He then gets an idea. Standing up from the couch, causing some leftover popcorn to spill onto the floor, the soldier gets down on one knee.

Y/N looks a bit surprised. “Ben, what are you doing?”

“Y/N, I know getting married to another man isn’t legal, but fuck the details. What we can do is get married illegally or something. You’ll be my husband, and I’ll be yours. We’ll live our lives in secret, but at least we’ll be married.”

As Y/N smiles, the soldier knows what his answer will be.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Y/N quickly pulls his fiancé into a hug, which Ben happily returns.

“Fuck!” Y/N exclaims.

“What?”

“You didn’t get me a ring!”

Ben chuckles. “I’ll buy you one later.”

As they stop hugging, the brunette kisses his fiancé. No matter how bad things might get with Payback, they know they’ll always have each other.

[oh-nostalgiaa]

thank you to @therebelcaptainnetwork for hosting secret santa again, which is the most wonderful time of the year (and the only time i muster enough energy to write, wah)!

my gift is for the lovely @toooldforthisbutstill, who asked for fluff, snow day/rest day, green/earth tones, or hope. i'm sorry i couldn't manage historical or fantasy, but i hope this small slice of life pleases nonetheless.

you can also find this fic at ao3! without further ado, here is:

you're gonna lead me home

The thing about peacetime is this:

There is no manual. There isn’t a set of instructions to follow in order to live in it to the best of one’s ability - especially if one (or two, in this case) are far more used to (and suited for, all things considered) doing whatever it takes to survive wartime.

You are simply taken from everything you’ve ever known and thrust into an entirely new situation with no guidelines and you are told ‘hey, good luck’.

While Cassian concedes that it’s not entirely true that he and Jyn had been airdropped into the unknown since they had been offered an apartment in glittering Coruscant and declined, but it still feels overwhelming at the best of times. This small, nondescript home on a small, temperate, mid-rim world is theirs to do with as they please.

At first, what they do is take stock of their new surroundings, taking careful note of what needs repairs or upgrades, what they can realistically immediately renovate and what may need to wait. More importantly, they examine every inch of their home and the land that surrounds it and they make intricate plans for how to keep themselves and this place safe.

You can take the soldiers out of the war, after all, but the war never really seems to end.

Cassian used to like to pride himself on how quickly he’s been able to adapt to any number of situations during his years as a spymaster, but another thing he’s learning is that the skills he’s gained from years of doing the hardest work imaginable don’t always translate to his new life.

And learning on the fly isn’t always quite so easy when there’s not the threat of death hanging over his head if he fails. Still, sometimes he thinks that death might be slightly easier to bear than disappointing Jyn.

Okay, so that’s a little dramatic, but not entirely inaccurate.

They have both spent most of their lives never staying anywhere long enough to put down roots. The relationships they have built have been superficial at best, because no matter how much it’s hurt to do it, they knew that disappearing was always what they were best at and what was necessary in order to survive another day. They have kept to the shadows and engaged in distasteful things they’d rather forget because there simply wasn’t any other option at the time. They looked over their shoulders constantly, because they never knew when a blade might be plunged into their back, metaphorically and literally speaking.

And that mindset is perhaps the hardest thing to rid themselves of.

Some days are easier than others. With no strict timetable to follow, new routines must be created, otherwise they both bristle at having so much free time and nothing to fill it.

Cassian finds that he’s rather adept at some of the repairs that need doing - the leak in the water filtration system comes to mind - and what he can’t figure out on his own, the holonet helps him learn. The same with cooking, actually. As it’s turned out, for as capable and dangerous as she can be in other areas, Jyn Erso is a complete disaster behind the stove and doesn’t quite possess the patience to want to learn to be otherwise. So Cassian has shooed her out of the cramped kitchen and taken over the cooking duties. He’s surprised by the natural affinity he seems to have for it and sometimes (when he’s feeling maudlin) wonders if in another life, that’s a path he would have gone down.

Some days, life doesn’t feel quite so difficult to navigate. Some days, he’s almost convinced that they’ll manage just fine.

And then there are the bad days.

There are days when one or the other or both of them revert to a state of readiness (and paranoia) that something’s going to happen if they are not hyperaware of every single thing in their immediate vicinity, every tiny noise more than enough to ramp emotions to the point of no return. And stars help them when they cross that point, because the blowup is not pretty. Neither is the aftermath.

If they’re lucky, the result is simply snapping at each other and then pointedly avoiding the other until their tempers settle. They would never put hands on each other, but when snapping turns to worse - well, they can wound each other terribly using just their words.

Icy little shards of insults that hit their target with startling accuracy every single time.

What’s worse is that neither are accustomed to apologizing, despite knowing when they’re in the wrong or when they’ve taken one step too far.

Sometimes, Cassian chooses to focus on repairs to keep himself busy, and if he feels like a particular argument requires more of a distance between he and Jyn, leaves a message letting her know he’s heading into town for supplies. Despite any simmering bad blood between them, he’s perceptive enough to know that not leaving that note would only just make everything all the worse. The sense of abandonment still runs deep in her veins, even though he has promised over and over again that he is with her come what may.

He leaves her to get her aggression out in her garden, or chopping wood, the type of hard physical labor that results in a good, deep sleep once the day is over with.

Repairs get done quicker than anticipated when there are a spate of bad days in a row, and soon, the barebones skeleton of their new home starts to come together in earnest. He only hopes that in time, they’ll both learn how to enjoy it without the fear of everything falling apart hanging over their heads, and that they’ll be able to build the life together that neither believes they truly deserve, deep down.

Sometimes, when the blood runs hot, not bad, they find themselves taking their frustrations out on each other physically - not sparring, although that is an option, but in a much more intimate and pleasurable way. All they need is the closest room or free surface and eventually, verbal jabs turn into gasps and moans, and when all is said and done, they may be disheveled and sweaty and breathless, but any annoyance felt toward each other has disappeared, replaced by satisfaction.

Things are still awkward afterward, as they are wont to be when a real apology hasn’t come, but Cassian’s learned that he and Jyn still find ways to offer one without words.

He’s learned to read her body language like a book and knows when she’s got a headache. He doesn’t say anything, but gently sets a steaming cup of tea down in front of her that he’s sure will alleviate her symptoms enough to allow her to participate in her usual activities. Thanks, holonet.

And Jyn's observation skills are unmatched. Even if Cassian never complains out loud, he will sometimes find exactly what he needs waiting for him, and he knows there’s only one person that could have done it. He tears his favorite pair of gloves, and later finds them stuffed in the pocket of a jacket, carefully darned back together and stronger than ever.

A tool needs replacing or a knife needs sharpening? He’ll find them exactly where he’s left them last, brand new and glittering or looking sharp enough as though it’s never been used countless times before.

I’m sorry may not come very naturally to them, but by stars, they are doing their best. As far as he’s concerned, that’s got to count for something.

Sometimes, on particularly clear nights, an apology can look like curling up together on the soft grassy hillside to silently stare up at the sky together, letting the peace and stillness wash over them as they watch shooting stars overhead. Those times, nothing needs to be said. It’s enough that Jyn’s resting her head over Cassian’s heart, letting the steady beating of his heart lull her into relaxation. It’s enough to be able to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head and be assured that even if he can’t see it, she’s smiling.

Sometimes, it’s enough to know that through it all, the good days and bad days, the lessons they’re still learning about how to live, the love always remains.

The rest will come in time.