#Five Fascinating Facts About…

[thatsbelievable]

[why-is-it-always-autumn]

The Beforan ancestors are so...

We know nothing about them. We know exactly who they were. Not one of them has ever spoken a single line in anything even canon-adjacent. Everyone can agree that He Would Not Say That. We know their full legal names. We don't know what anyone called them in adulthood. We can make some pretty solid predictions about their interpersonal relationships. We don't know which of them were even alive at the same time. We only know they exist because of a bunch of parodies of 2012 tumblr.

[crossbackpoke-check]

re last answer: please don't stop, being very unhinged about these two pretty white boys is helping distract me from the sharks losing streak rn so bring it on

https://www.tumblr.com/bondedpairs/764566430180147200?source=share

(sideblog woes but there's the link for you) anyway in the vid they talk about going over to each other's houses to have dinner and things and while that is a delicious example of their codependence i love it bc through an rpf lens there is definitely some old man ******* going on. they can have the dilfs and each other.

(someone else mentioned kept boys which i could write an essay on but i fear being Perceived™️)

anyway if you have anything to add to this please do, if not ignore me and i will hide under a rock until the stress-related insanity has worn off and i am a functioning member of society once more 😂

- @bondedpairs

ty for the video!!! and please, WRITE THE KEPT BOYS ESSAYYYY i promise i will read it with my hands over my eyes if you don’t want to be perceived. do it scared!! do it anyway!! we’ll all love you for it!!!

[cel-aerion]

A genius roboticist is thrust into a parenthood they're not quite prepared for. Tired of making uninspired projects for the company they work for, they put it aside for a passion project: A robot that can actually learn by observation, which will help supervise the child and keep it company so they don't have to. Unfortunately, the robot picks up the wrong lessons and goes on a murder spree.

Am I describing M3GAN, or the Five Nights at Freddy's "The Mimic" story?

[astronomalyy]

Thinking about the lifespans of Dungeon Meshi elves... The fact that they're completely unnatural alters my brain chemistry, because you can tell just how haphazardly the demon implemented their wish. They live five times the length of tall-men, so they age at a fifth of their rate. It's simple maths and the implications are terrifying. No wonder their birth rate and population are declining - their early development is so slow that at the age of two, they're still unable to stand.

They don't reach adulthood until their eighties. What does the infant mortality look like? How many elves succumb to illness or injury before they're fully mature? It only takes one accident to lose the child you've been raising for decades - and could you bring yourself to care for another? Add to that the implication elf culture has no idea how to process grief... just look at the way the Canaries treat Rin after the death of her parents. They're callous and insensitive and detached - part of that's racism, but there's also an element of pure cold ignorance. They don't even recognise the emotion on her face.

And that's just scratching the surface... does elven memory accommodate their extended lifespan? Once you reach two hundred or so, do the years start blurring together? Kabru mentions that their temporal awareness is remarkably poor.

Two years feel like a few months. Their lives are longer but not fuller. They're older but not wiser than the short-lived races, and most refuse to understand this. Those that do grasp it are interesting - namely Otta, who's ostracised for pursuing half-foot women.

A 30-year old elf is a young child; a 30-year old half-foot has entered middle age. Otta is in the equivalent of her late twenties. She knows that her elven lifespan makes her no more mature than a half-foot - but she also acknowledges that it creates a rift between herself and her partners, and not just in the eyes of society. 'She dumps them as soon as they pass 30', but probably not for the reasons Lycion assumes. For this to be a pattern, decades must have passed - it's possible Otta doesn't want to watch them die as she herself barely ages. No doubt some of her previous lovers have already passed away. In the end, all living 400 years accomplishes is leaving them out of sync with the rest of humanity.

Marcille's perhaps the best example. As a half-elf, she's got 95% of her life ahead and the thought terrifies her. She's going to lose everyone she loves, over and over and over again, and this cycle has barely even started. She runs at a different pace. This context adds so much to her dynamic with Falin in earlier chapters.

Marcille loves her! She's scared for her! Maybe even of her! She's grown attached to a short-lived girl who she met as a kid when Marcille was a teaching assistant! Biologically and developmentally, they're the same age, but chronologically she's twice as old as Falin! Considering what happened to her mother, is history repeating itself? Her feelings towards Falin are tangled and messy and fascinating. They're also more than a little homoerotic, which makes Marcille's infantilization of her friend all the more interesting. It feels like her way of resolving their power imbalance, of remaining a responsible (former!) authority figure... but it's also a coping mechanism. She's frightened by the ways Falin is maturing and changing - aging - and keeping her mental image of her friend as young as possible is her way of denying the march of time that's destined to sever their bond.

Marcille's dream of lifespan extension would remove the need for this obfuscation, render them equal... only, they already are! This desire is imposed onto Falin, but it's primarily for Marcille's benefit. Watching her fight for a world nobody wants, for reasons both selfish and altruistic... it's as tragic as it is understandable. I love this manga.

[thesandyhooktragedy]

the lengths that ethan blair miller went to in order to mimic eric harris and dylan klebold, especially as he was someone who eventually decided on not committing a school shooting, definitely fascinate me.

during his attack on a safeway in bend, oregon, he wore a shirt that said ‘HURT’ across the chest, which is most visible in the photo above. miller also displays many behaviors that other columbine copycats exhibit, such as dressing in a way similar to harris and klebold (black pants, black boots, t-shirt with word art). though, this specific outfit—with the red text against a black shirt—is much more reminiscent of klebold’s ‘WRATH’ shirt that he wore during the attack on columbine.

miller seemed to have more of an interest in klebold than he did in harris, in general. miller’s wattpad username was wrathofman22, most likely referencing the shirt that klebold sported on the day he attacked columbine. and it’s not like miller’s admiration of the columbine shooters was any secret, either; he cited them as a main source of inspiration for his attack. he had even originally planned to shoot up his past high school, in order to pay homage to columbine.

i’m assuming the reason many people don’t discuss ethan blair miller are because he kind of got lost in the mix of copycat crimes committed by columbine fanboys, and the body count of miller’s attack wasn’t more than five. either way, his case is very interesting (the fact that he published his manifesto on wattpad is definitely… something?) and i wish primary sources about it were more accessible!

[buriedintheguts]

My favourite part about Logan and Wade's dynamic is the difference in their interactions when public versus in private.

When it's just the two of them, Logan will tear Wade into pieces. He snaps and snarls, he fights and makes Wade bleed without hesitation or pause. He talks shit about Wade straight to his face without a care. They're ugly together, they seem like a hot mess. They are covered in blood and irritation and everything in between. There's no filter or any rules. Logan goes all out and so does Wade. Hence, the abhorrent hot mess that was the Honda Oddysey scene.

But once an audience comes into play, Logan settles — like a good dog heeling at his master's side. He lets Wade takes the reigns, only making faces (which is, honestly, just his resting judging face) and letting out grunts (like when Wade was trying to convince the rest to fight Cassandra Nova, and Logan was making judgy little half-snorts into his bottle).

But he doesn't stop Wade. In fact, he just ... lets him. Like the scene before Logan's fight with Sabretooth. Mind you, they were literally just fighting not even five minutes prior to that. Logan still had both of Wade's katanas sticking out of him. Yet, when Wade came around to fuss over him, claiming that Logan was embarrassing the hell out of him and what not, Logan stays still. He allows Wade do whatever he pleases, and he only lunges upon being given the green light.

It's just so fucking fascinating to me. Because there is no reason for Logan to settle the way he does, but he does. He does.

[chestersturniolo]

“Stay with me for five more minutes”

clingy!chris • based on many requests including this one

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

You stirred awake, rolling over to find Chris already awake, lying on his side and staring at you with a soft smile on his face.

“Good morning” you mumbled in a sleepy voice.

“Morning” he replied, scooting closer until his body was flush with yours, his arms wrapping around you. “I missed you”

You chuckled, cosying into his touch “Chris, we’ve been asleep for eight hours”

“Eight hours too long” he murmured, nuzzling his face into your neck. His voice had that lazy, contented tone he used when he was comfortable and didn’t want to move. You sighed softly, the warmth of his embrace making it hard to get up. But eventually, you pulled away, sitting up to stretch. Chris groaned dramatically, reaching out to pull you back into bed.

“Come back-” he whined, his fingers gently tugging at your shirt. “-stay with me for five more minutes”

“Chris, we have things to do today. I need to get up” you said, laughing as you pried his hands off you. He pouted like a child, sitting up and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I don’t care. We can cancel everything. Just stay here” he pleaded, arms winding around you again from behind. You rolled your eyes but secretly you loved the attention.

When he finally let you out of his grip, you made your way into the shower. Chris perched on the bathroom counter, his back against the mirror, arms casually folded as he watched you shower. His eyes never left you, and he wasn’t saying much, just offering the occasional smile when your eyes met, but his presence was comforting, and a little clingy in the most endearing way.

Once you were done and wrapped up in a towel, Chris hopped off the counter to get ready himself. Even after finishing up, he didn’t stray far. Instead, he sat back down on the bed, watching you do your makeup at the vanity with quiet fascination. Every time you glanced at him, his gaze was already on you, like he found every brushstroke mesmerizing.

“What?” you asked, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you applied mascara.

“Nothing-“ he shrugged, grinning. “-just…you”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the mirror, but you couldn’t stop the flutter in your stomach when he looks at you this way, which is honestly most of the time.

Once you were both ready, you mentioned you needed to run a few errands. Chris immediately insisted on coming along, despite your warning, “It’s just boring stuff, It won’t be fun”

“I don’t care-” he said, slipping his hand into yours. “I just wanna be with you ma”

~

Throughout the day, Chris was glued to your side, never more than an arm’s reach away. As you walked through the grocery aisles or waited in line somewhere, he was constantly in contact with you. An arm snaked round your waist. Holding your hand. Playing with your hair. A hand slipped in the back pocket of your jeans. Every so often, he leaned in for kisses, leaving you grinning even when you tried to stay focused on your to-do list.

“Chris, we’re literally in the produce section” you laughed as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck littering kisses- all whilst holding a bag of apples.

“And?” he replied, unfazed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. His affection was constant,, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, no matter where you were or what you were doing.

Chris’ love language was definitely physical touch, and he couldn’t care less about PDA. in fact he loved to show everybody what was his, whether it cringed them out or not. he simply didn’t care.

~

By the time you finally made it home, you were more than ready to relax. Chris had already pulled out some of his comfiest clothes for you- a big hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. He tossed them onto the bed with a grin. “Figured you’d wanna get cozy” he said, watching as you slipped into the oversized hoodie, which smelled like him.

Once you were both changed, you curled up on the couch, Chris wrapping his arms around you as you settled into his chest. He flicked on a movie, but half the time, you could feel his gaze shift from the screen to you.

“You’re staring again” you teased, glancing up at him.

“Can’t help it” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead before tightening his hold on you.

You sighed contentedly, nestling deeper into his embrace. By now, his clinginess felt like second nature, a quiet but constant reminder of how much he loved being close to you.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

MASTERLIST HERE

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@luvb0xoxo

[earthtooz]

x : LUST FOR LIFE *+ﾟ

in which: sunday discovers a new emotion when he's under you.

warnings: 1.5k words, sunday is B(h)ORNY and doesn't know how to deal with it, he wants reader so bad, lowkey implied switch!sunday, gn!reader being sunday's freak awakening, NO SMUT BUT UNDER 16 DNI, not edited

a/n: five likes and i'll write nsfw for sunday

What good is a leader who can’t empathise with the lives of the people he was supposed to be leading?

This thought has plagued Sunday ever since he exiled himself from Penacony, since he joined the Astral Express in a journey of self-discovery and reflection, embracing the Nameless lifestyle so he can broaden the horizons that Penacony had restricted. There, he was so detached from the reality of the people he was trying to help, so trapped in a whirlwind of his own ideals to experience humanity, too buried in official duties to rejoice in the many wonders of the universe, the simple pleasures and the grandiose ones.

Since boarding, the former head of the Oak Family has experienced humiliation, desperation, and many close calls with death. It seems he underestimated how easily trouble found the Trailblazers, and the diary he carries with him has been updated with multiple entries, filled with exasperated recounts that ended with him being grateful that he is still well and unscathed.

Sunday has also experienced laughter, connection, and the bond of humankind- something he did not have before. When he controlled the Oak Family, had everyone under or at his fingertips, the only person he could depend on was himself. When Robin left to travel the cosmos, what was he to do than learn the bitter truth of independence and self-sufficiency? 

Yet, he sits on the couches of the Astral Express and there is bound to be another by him, trying to converse with him like an old friend. He is mentioned in the conversations like an individual who they keep around because they want to, not because he is crafty, not because of what he can offer. No, he can’t offer anything right now, and the crew still wants him to stay.

He learns more about humanity with each passing day.

However, perhaps one of the more puzzling feelings Sunday has had to confront was… infatuation. 

It’s a tricky feeling. It sends his heart into overdrive and his limbs to become jelly, and at the epicentre of this hurricane of uncharted territory, is you. 

“Sunday?” Your voice comes through muffled from the other side of the door. He almost jumps off his mattress at the sound. 

“Door is open,” he responds as calmly as possible, heart thrumming alive at the sound of your voice, beating in time with the rapid succession of your knocks. 

The door slides open slowly to reveal you on the other side. “Pom Pom just wanted to let everyone know that we will be jumping soon.” 

“I see, thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem,” your gaze then flickers to the angels that flock around him and he watches as your eyes gleam with fascination.

Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, you enter his room and approach him, the door sliding closed without your weight to hold it open. You stop before him without a bow, without a formal greeting of ‘Mr. Sunday’- no, you stop before him like an equal, which you most certainly are. In fact, he would even think of himself below you, but Sunday needs to unlearn this assumption of hierarchy, needs to not let it define the relationships he forms, even if he looks up to you and finds you reverent. 

“Hey, I’ve never seen these little guys before!” You exclaim, sticking out a hand to act like a perch for the angel-like summons. One of them flits up to you and stays on your outstretched finger. “Well, not this close, at least.”

It keens at your praise. Like owner like summon, Sunday supposes.

“I don’t tend to bring them out. They are for combat purposes,” he explains. 

Your eyes widen slightly. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” 

“What? No! That’s not it-”

“-I’m kidding, Sunday,” you snicker. “We’re friends, I wouldn’t want to fight you.”

“Right,” he exhales, “I wouldn’t want to fight you either.”

“Besides, we already did once.”

He freezes at the memory, remembers when he got hit with the exact train he is currently boarding. 

You, however, are unphased by the recollection, and even continue to rub salt in the wound. “I remember fighting against these little summons too, your owner was a real meanie, do you guys know that?” 

They flock around you, spinning and fluttering like little fireflies.  Instinctively, Sunday covers his flustered expression with his wings, and he doesn’t budge, even when he hears your laugh, the sound almost enough for him to melt into a puddle by your feet.

“Hey, hey, I was kidding, sorry if I took the joke too far.” 

He uncovers himself with an embarrassed sigh, not meeting your eyes. “It’s okay, I think the memory is just… humiliating, more than anything.”

“There are no more hard feelings. Everyone has accepted you on board and none of us think of you to be the same person you were when we first met, I promise.”

Your words are completely earnest, Sunday knows it, can feel it in the way you tell him so unabashedly. So who is he to deny it?

“Thank you,” he says, finally looking up at you, “it means a lot to hear that.” 

“I’ll say it as much as you need. Well, I’ll get out of your hair now, just prepare for the jump-”

Your sentence is interrupted by a shriek when you lose your footing, and Sunday feels it too, the force so strong that even he, while sitting, feels as if is being stretched and pulled into a miniscule hole. What he also feels is your body colliding on top of his, and his hands come to your waist to catch you in an attempt to prevent you from slipping, but it’s not enough and he’s falling with you onto the expanse of his made bed.

The Express is warping to some expanse of the universe, and his stomach drops at the sensation, spreading to the ends of his nerves before disappearing, just replaced by the extremely odd feeling of being pulled through the stars. He just hopes you’re comfortable, standing up whilst warping is tough, he heard the stories of when Stelle first tried to do it and how she fell flat on her face. 

When the feeling of normality returns and Sunday doesn’t feel like he has been stretched out, he opens his eyes and tries to take in the sight before him.

You. Your face. Centimetres away from his.

He’s always thought you were pretty, but seeing you this close… perhaps just pretty is an understatement. His gaze unwillingly flicks to your lips and he wished he hadn’t because suddenly the urge to sit up and lick into your mouth is raging; a fire that can’t be contained. 

Sunday wants you to push him down by the shoulders, with no gentleness or mercy, and just… devour him whole. His hands want to find you by the hips and pull you into him more than humanly possible, he wants you to indent yourself onto him so he can remember your taste forever, so that, in a way, you couldn’t ever leave him. 

Alternatively, he would happily flip around and pin you against the mattress. He would pry you open, explore the cavern of your mouth with his tongue and suck your sacred essence out of you so that it can stay and settle in his bones instead, replacing where marrow should be. He wants to lay you vulnerable so his hands can explore places only you want him to touch, wants to take you so that you stay forever, wants to feel your tongue against his, wants to hold your face and feel how you react when he takes his time cherishing you, revering you. 

This feeling is too much, these thoughts are overpowering, yet nothing has ever been more clear. Sunday wants you, lusts for you, even, and he’s never felt so intensely for someone before. 

How would the symphonies sound when they learn of the atrocities he wants to perform? 

Temptation holds him close and infects him with a desire so strong, he’s practically frozen in place as you recover from the shock, holding yourself up with your arms that were on either side of his head. 

“Ow, I’m sorry!” You immediately exclaim, before realising exactly what position you are in, your chests are pressed together, and you’re mortified to think about how close you were before you picked yourself off him, and- his… his hips… are pressed against yours- okay, you needed to leave as soon as possible.

You scramble off him like he had burnt you, frantically shouting apologies whilst doing so, the words clumsy and rushed, but neither of you can deny how you miss the warmth that was suddenly ripped away. 

(If he wanted to, you could have stayed in that position with him.)

Then, before you could get anymore thoughts, you turn and practically bolt out of his room without another word, leaving a hot and bothered Sunday behind.

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

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Magic-Related Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Amulet: An object worn, carried or placed to guard against negativity or other vibrations. A protective object.

Astral Projection: The practice of separating the consciousness from the physical body so that the former may move about unhindered by time, space or gravity.

Bane: A poison; that which destroys life. "Henbane" is poisonous to hens.

Banish: To drive away evil, negativity or spirits.

Beltane: An ancient folk-festival day observed by Witches that celebrates the fully blossomed spring. April 30 or May 1.

Censer: A vessel of metal or earthenware in which incense is burned. An incense burner.

Chaplet: A garland or wreath of flowers or leaves worn on the head, as in the chaplets given to classical Greek heroes as symbols of honor.

Clairvoyance: Literally "clear seeing." The ability to perceive facts, events and other data by other than the five "normal" senses, unaided by tools.

Curse: A concentration of negative and destructive energy, deliberately formed and directed toward a person, place or thing.

Divination: The art of finding things out through means other than the five senses, using tools such as tarot cards, crystal balls, and so on.

Enchant: "Sing to." Magically speaking, a procedure whereby herbs are aligned with your magical need prior to their use.

Evil Eye, The: Supposed glance capable of causing great harm or fear, once almost universally feared.

Fascination: The art of placing other people under one's power through sounds, gazes, colors, etc.

Hex: An evil spell; a curse.

Incubus: A male demon or spirit which was believed to sexually tempt and abuse women; the succubus was the corresponding female demon.

Infusion: An herbal tea.

Lughnasadh: An old harvest festival celebrated on August 1st or 2nd in Europe, reverencing the abundant (harvested) fruits of the Earth. It is still observed by Wicca.

Magic: The practice of causing needed change through the use of powers as yet undefined and unaccepted by science.

Magic Circle: A ritually-created circle (or sphere) that offers protection to the magician during magical rites.

Magician: A person of either sex who practices magic.

Magus: A magician.

Midsummer: The Summer Solstice, usually on or near June 21st, one of the Wiccan festival days and an excellent time to practice magic.

Pendulum: A tool of divination which consists of a heavy object suspended from a string or cord. The end of the cord is held between the thumb and forefinger; questions are asked and their answers divided by the movements of the pendulum.

Pentagram: A five-pointed star which has been used in magic for centuries. Highly symbolic, it is also a protective device.

Poppet: A small doll made of various substances to influence a person's fife. In herb magic, either a carved root or a cloth image stuffed with herbs. The use of poppets is known as "image magic."

Power Hand, The: The hand you write with; the dominant hand. This is a magically potent hand.

Samhain: An ancient festival day marking the beginning of winter. Also known as "Halloween" and All Hallows Eve. It is observed by Wicca with religious ceremonies.

Scry: To gaze into a pool of ink, fire, crystal ball, etc. to awaken and summon psychic powers.

Spell: A magical rite.

Talisman: An object worn or carried to attract a specific influence, such as love, luck, money, health; as opposed to an amulet which keeps forces from its bearer.

Wicca: A contemporary religion with spiritual roots in prehistory that worships the life-force of the universe as personified as a God and Goddess. It is sometimes erroneously referred to as "witchcraft."

Witch Bottle: A bottle or jar containing herbs, pins, shards of glass and other objects, designed to protect a person or area from evil and curses. Usually buried or placed in a window.

Witchcraft: The practice of natural magic, as that of herbs, stones, and candles. Spell-casting. Still used by some to refer to the religion of Wicca.

Wort: An old word meaning "herb." Mugwort preserves the term.

Excerpt from Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs More: Word Lists ⚜ Esoteric Vocabulary ⚜ On Magic

[thatsbelievable]

[badkitty3000]

Breaking The Rules

Five x Plus Size Female Reader, Words: 8,159, One-shot

Warnings: Smut, slight Daddy kink

So I received a very lovely request from someone I won't name, but they asked for something very specific:

"There aren't that many Five x plus size reader fics, And I think that should be changed"

I immediately jumped on this idea, because yes, this does need to change. Body representation is very important. I fully admit that I normally write Five with petite women, and that's usually because he's not a huge guy himself, so I tend to make them smaller. That's kind of the standard formula I suppose: bigger guy, smaller girl? But it doesn't have to always be that way. Everyone should be represented in a positive way.

Anyway, I have tried my best to fulfill this request and hopefully I do it justice. 😽❤️☂️

You had just been transferred from Records to Case Management. It was a pretty big promotion, but you had worked hard for it and deserved it. You were excited to be out of the stuffy records room and into the main population of employees since you were by nature a very social person. At one point you had thought about training for an agent position, but decided against it. Even though that’s really what you dreamed of doing. Instead, you figured vying for an executive position would be the best route, but that would take a few more years in the machine.

Part of your job was taking the data that you put together and assigning a particular agent to the case. You were good at solving puzzles, which is why you were put in this department to begin with, but you were also very good at reading people. You loved getting to know new people and their personalities, and what made them tick. People in general were fascinating to you, and the Commission had plenty of personalities.

As usual, you had no problem fitting in with your new coworkers. You had some sort of energy or charisma that drew others in. Maybe it was your infectious laugh, or your inappropriate sense of humor. Or just that way that you had of putting everyone around you at ease. Whatever it was, it was a source of pride for you. You liked being the one people gravitated to.

There was one person that did not seem as smitten with you as everyone else, and that was Number Five Hargreeves. You knew of him, of course. Everyone did. He was a legend among legends and there was a reason for that. You hadn’t been there the first time around, when he was fresh out of the Apocalypse, but when he came back years later as a younger version of himself, it was all anyone could talk about.

Five had a reputation for being aloof and if you caught him on the wrong day, he’d cut you down with some biting insult that was just as powerful as any physical harm he could do. He was smart, agile, and brutally honest. He was also hot as hell.

There seemed to be no end to the line of women that would purposefully parade past him on a daily basis. You couldn’t blame them, though. You’d caught yourself staring a few times, as you watched him read over a file with that serious expression of his, before he nodded a curt thank you and disappeared in a flash of blue. But you weren’t really that interested in him and you knew for a fact that he didn’t date inside the office. You admired that about him, actually, because neither did you.

Just because he wasn’t sleeping around the Commission, however, didn’t mean he wasn’t getting some action elsewhere. When you work for an organization that can see anything and everyone across all timelines and at any point in time…well, rumors are bound to start spreading. And you had heard a lot of them.

As with all rumors, it was hard to determine how much of it was true, but you could at least believe what you heard about his usual taste in women. Petite, thin, perky boobs, a flat stomach, and a small, tight ass. The guys at the switchboard loved to give descriptions of Five’s latest conquests, and they all sounded about the same. But hey, good for him, everyone has a type.

So, even if you were somehow interested in him from a romantic standpoint, you wouldn’t have made the cut anyway. You didn’t fit that stereotypical mold of those other women with your wide hips, slightly bigger breasts and butt, and a stomach that had never been flat. You doubted his usual dates had stretch marks on their thighs and hips, or even a small amount of cellulite on their ass. Not that you cared. Everyone’s bodies were different, after all.

Being a bigger sized woman didn’t bother you. You were confident in your body and made no apologies about it. Just because you couldn’t fit into the size negative two jeans that were constantly shoved in your face on every clothing store mannequin, didn’t mean you weren’t going to wear what you wanted. Short skirts, tight blouses that hugged your chest, or low cut, strappy dresses. If you liked it and it fit, who the fuck cared what anyone else thought? You liked yourself and your body, and if someone else didn’t, then that was their problem.

You liked sex, too, and you had no problems in that department either. You’d had many boyfriends, and a few one-night stands. Currently, you were unattached, but that was ok. There would be another man along at some point and you weren’t going to settle for someone you didn’t like. In the meantime, you’d ogle the eye candy at work.

It was a typical day when you had your first real interaction with Five. Sitting in the breakroom with your lunch, laughing loudly with your coworkers, the room suddenly became very quiet. You looked over to see Five strolling casually in, heading for the coffee station. He didn’t speak to anyone, or really even look in their direction, but there were nervous glances all around. One by one, your friends quietly made some excuse and got up to leave. Eventually, it was just you left at the table.

“Aren’t you going to flee in terror with the rest of them?”

You looked up, surprised to see that he was actually talking to you. You pointed to your salad in front of you. “I’m still eating. And you don’t really scare me, sorry.”

Five looked thoughtful for a second and you saw the glimmer of a smile before he took another sip of coffee.

“Nice work on the Edinburgh case, by the way.”

You nodded. “Thanks. I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

Five shrugged. “I pay attention. Especially when I see real talent.”

You frowned. “So, you’re stalking me, is that what you’re telling me?”

Five almost choked on his coffee. “What? No! Why would you…”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Thank you, though. I appreciate the compliment.”

“Oh,” Five said, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.” Then he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to finish your meal.”

“You don’t have to go, you know,” you said as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back at you and you gestured to one of the empty seats. “It’s ok to relax sometimes. Maybe be social? And I don’t bite…at least not without prior consent,” you added with a wink.

Five stood there for a few seconds in thought, and you figured he was conjuring up some perfectly crafted insult for you. Instead, you saw his mouth twitch up at the corner and he gestured to you with his coffee cup.

“Well, that is very good to know. Consent is always important.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

A few days later you were standing with your friends in the hallway at the end of the workday, talking about the upcoming Commission pickleball tournament you were all playing in. One of your best players had been injured on a job and now you were down a body. As you were discussing options, you saw Five walking in your direction.

“Hey, Hargreeves!” you yelled. “You up for some pickleball?”

Five stopped in his tracks and actually looked around, as if there could be another Hargreeves standing right behind him. Then he looked back at you, thoroughly confused.

“What the hell are you doing?” whispered one of your friends.

“What?” you replied. “The guy’s like a hundred years old, he probably fucking loves pickleball.” You turned back to Five. “We need another player, you game?”

Still rooted to the spot, Five shook his head slowly. “Thanks for the invite. But I’ll have to decline.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from the rest of your group. You rolled your eyes. “Come on! It’ll be fun. You know what fun is, don’t you?”

Five narrowed his eyes, but you could see there was no bite to it. “Yes, I know what fun is.”

“Well, I promise this will be all sorts of fun.” You gave him a big smile. “And as a bonus, you’ll get to watch me run around in a short skirt.”

Your friend next to you slapped you on the arm. “What is wrong with you?” they hissed.

Five actually smiled for a second, you were sure of it. “Tempting, but again, I have to decline.” Then he continued on his way down the hall.

Over the next few weeks, you made it your personal mission to try and get Five to loosen up. Whether you personally delivered case files to him just as an excuse to talk to him, or purposefully followed him into the breakroom, you wouldn’t leave him alone until you got him to at least smile at something you said. After a while, you noticed he was much more relaxed around you. Eventually, you and he were officially friends, much to the amazement of everyone else around you. He even started seeking you out on his downtime.

“Hey there, handsome,” you joked as Five strode up to your desk one day. “Something I can do for you, or did you just miss me?”

“You know, I could report you to human resources for sexual harassment,” he said as he perched on the edge of your desk, folding his arms across his chest with a smile. He had a standard manilla file folder in one hand.

“It’s only harassment if you don’t like it,” you replied, pointing a pen at him.

“I’m not sure that’s accurate.”

“Sure it is,” you said as you jabbed him in the arm with the pen, laughing when he frowned and rubbed at the area. “But seriously, did you need something?”

“Maybe. I just wanted to run this by you.” He slapped the case file on your desk.

“What is it?”

“A case I was assigned to. I read it over though, and I don’t think it’s right. I wanted your opinion.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Me? The legendary Mr. Five wants my lowly opinion?”

“Just shut up and read the fucking file.”

With a laugh, you opened it and started reading. He watched you, rather intently you noticed, while you read. You frowned and shook your head, pointing at a paragraph. “Right here, this isn’t true. The clockmaker didn’t take a carriage to work that day. He walked.”

Five nodded. “That makes this whole case pointless, then. I’d be targeting the wrong person.”

“Shit, you’re right.” You looked up at him. “Good catch.”

“It looked off somehow, but I couldn’t figure it out. I knew you would, though.”

Normally you’d say something snarky to bust his balls, but he was being truly sincere and his compliment meant a lot to you. “Thanks, Five.”

He shrugged and grabbed the file off your desk. “Alright, see you later.”

As he turned around to leave, you couldn’t help yourself. “Hey, Five?”

He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away.”

Five shook his head while you cackled at your own joke. “Can’t even make it ten seconds without treating me like a piece of meat. You’re hopeless.”

The following day, you were in the breakroom getting some coffee when you overheard a conversation by some of your coworkers.

“…yeah, I heard it’s not good. Took a shot right to the chest.”

“I heard it was a head shot; that he’s barely alive.”

“No way, I don’t believe it. Not him.”

You turned toward the group, coffee cup in hand. “Who are you talking about?”

“You haven’t heard? Your buddy was shot up pretty bad today.”

You frowned, lowering your cup. “Who, Five?”

“Yeah. I only heard bits and pieces so far, but it doesn’t sound great. They brought him directly to the infirmary when he came back. There was a trail of blood in the hall and everything.”

“What?” you cried, slamming your cup on the counter. “That can’t be.”

Your friend shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”

“Shit,” you hissed, before running out of the room.

You didn’t slow down the entire way to the infirmary, dodging people in the halls, and almost knocking a few of them over in the process. How could Five be hurt? And why was just the thought making you sick to your stomach?

You burst into the infirmary just in time to see several nurses scurrying away, and a very angry and bloodied Five sitting up in one of the hospital beds.

“God damnit, if you touch me one more time, I swear to god, I will strangle you with my IV line!”

“Oh my god, Five!” Without even thinking about it, you rushed up to him and threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly to you. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”

His body stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and put his arms around you in return. You heard him laugh and you pulled away.

“I bet you’d like that. Then you’d finally be able to molest me without me fighting back.”

You realized a few tears had slipped down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped them away. You gave him a half-smile. “You wish.” Then you looked him over, noticing the blood on his head and the IV in his arm. “Are you ok? What happened?”

He sighed. “Nothing, just a minor mishap. I’m fine.” He spoke louder and in the general direction of the nursing staff. “But these jack-holes won’t let me leave!”

You huffed out a laugh. “I can see you’re fine by your usual lovely attitude. You should hear the rumors going around about you, though. Pretty impressive.”

“Good. I need to keep up appearances.”

When you sat down on the side of the bed, you took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re ok, really. I got really scared there for a minute.”

Five smiled shyly at you and gave you a squeeze back. “I’m glad someone here was worried about me.”

You tilted your head to the side and brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead and tried to wipe away a smudge of blood. “I doubt I’m the only one.”

“I think you are,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes.

You averted your eyes for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Maybe just one thing.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

He grinned. “Go on a date with me.”

You weren’t sure you heard him correctly. “Did they check you for a concussion because I thought you just asked me out on a date.”

“I did. And no, I am not concussed.”

“Five…” you started, blinking in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you mean like a date date?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Yes, like a date date. Why is this so hard to believe?”

“Uh, well…because we’re friends. Also, I’m not really your type.”

His eyebrows creased together. “You’re not? You’re funny, smart, and sexy. Not to mention you flirt with me every chance you get. What’s not to like?”

“I do not flirt with you.” You smiled when you saw his incredulous expression. “Ok, yeah, I do. But that was just having fun and trying to make you laugh. I didn’t think you’d be into me.”

“Why not?”

“Ok, how do I put this? I have heard all about your little conquests and I know you have a running theme. Skinny, tiny, Barbie dolls that probably have never eaten a sandwich before. And not that there’s anything wrong with that. Everyone has a type and that’s ok. Hell, normally I prefer blond guys, but…”

“Normally?” he cut in.

You blushed. “Well, I do make some exceptions for certain grouchy, dark-haired men.”

Five nodded with a smile. “So then go out with me. I promise the only type I have is the type that I happen to be attracted to. And don’t believe everything you hear around here. Remember,” he pointed to the small abrasion on his head, “I was almost dead a couple of minutes ago.”

Hesitating, you shook your head. “I don’t date anyone from work.”

“Good. Me either,” he said, still grinning.

You laughed. “Alright, then, you wore me down. It’s a date. But only if you promise to stay here for at least another hour without verbally or physically abusing these poor health care workers. It’s not their fault you’re an asshole.”

“Fine, I’ll stay, but only because I want to go out with you.” He raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. “Not because I need to be treated like a child who fell off their tricycle!”

The next Saturday, you and Five went on your date. When he saw your outfit, he was speechless for a few seconds. He was used to seeing you in your work clothes, which was always the same boring gray pants suit, but now he got to see you in your preferred style. A form-fitting, teal blue dress that stopped halfway down your thighs and had a keyhole neckline to show off a bit of cleavage. You paired it with some gold jewelry and black, strappy heels. You laughed at his face when he saw you.

“You look…” he stammered. “That dress…just wow.”

“Thank you.” You looked him up and down, liking the way his tailored pants fit his lean body just right and his casual button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves accentuated his sculpted chest. You had never really noticed how strong he looked. “You look really good, too. Much better than the stuffy suits.”

“Agreed,” he said distractedly as he continued to stare at your chest.

“Excuse me, but my eyes are up here,” you joked, pointing to your face.

He looked up briefly, then back down at your body. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to your eyes in a minute.”

“Wow, I had no idea you were such a pervert.”

He looked up at you with a devious smile. “Oh, yeah, huge pervert. I’m surprised you never picked up on that.” He laughed along with you and then offered his arm for you to loop yours through. “Shall we?”

At dinner, the conversation came easily. It was nice to be able to chat without having to cut it short due to work. Your stories were much duller than his, obviously, but he still seemed genuinely interested in anything you had to say. You made him laugh with your sarcastic comments and you loved knowing you were just about the only one that could crack that veneer of his. Over dessert, you finally worked up enough nerve to ask him what you really wanted to know.

“So, how come you’ve only dated thin girls before?”

Five looked surprised and he shook his head. “I haven’t only dated thin girls.”

You cocked your head to the side and raised your eyebrows. “Really?”

He coughed, embarrassed. “Ok, fine, that’s true. But it wasn’t a conscious decision. Like I said, I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to.” He paused. “But…”

“But what?”

“But what I am most attracted to is confidence. I like a woman that is sure of herself and assertive. A woman that knows what she wants.” He looked guilty for a second. “Usually, at least in my experience, those are the women that happen to fit into the societal standards of beauty. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, though. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not a bad thing. I was just curious.” You hesitated, not sure you wanted to keep pressing him for information. “What was it that attracted you to me, then?”

He looked surprised again and then he laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never met anyone as confident and self-assured as you. Plus, you’re funny and easy to be around. And almost as smart as I am.”

“As modest as always.”

“I’m just kidding,” he said with a smile. “You’re incredibly smart, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who wasn’t. And…” He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. You felt a warm, tingling sensation ripple through your body. “You are also incredibly sexy with your shameless flirting.”

“Well, I’m glad you noticed,” you said, taking your finger and brushing it over his. “And just in case you didn’t know, you are also incredibly sexy.”

“I did not know that.”

“Oh yeah. I made a lot of enemies once word got out that I was going on a date with you. Lots of jealous women back at headquarters right now.”

“Is that so? Can I get a list of those women, just in case this date goes bad?”

Taking your foot, you dragged it up his calf, all while looking him in the eye with one eyebrow raised suggestively. “I don’t think it’s going to go bad, do you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t now.” You saw him swallow hard and shift in his seat. “How about we get the check?”

When you got back to your place, you were almost falling through the door as you struggled to get inside while aggressively making out. Neither of you had even made it out of the car before you started groping one another, so that by the time you had made it home, you were both on fire.

“You know,” you mumbled between frantic kisses as Five slammed the door closed behind him with his foot. “I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

“Me either,” he said as he grabbed you around the waist to pull you in closer, kissing you along your jaw.

“Ok, I lied. Yes, I do,” you exhaled breathily as your hands wound into his hair and he moved his mouth to your neck.

“Good, because I lied too,” he said, stopping to look at you with a sly grin.

After letting out a short laugh, you were back on his mouth again, breathing hard through your nose and pressing your body against his. You could feel his arousal building as he pushed his groin into your hip. Your hands fumbled as you started to unbutton his shirt.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” he breathed against your neck. “I want you out of this dress.”

As you finished undoing the last button and pulling his shirt out of his pants, you nodded. “Yeah, good idea.” When you reached down to pull at the strap of your shoe, he put a hand on yours to stop you. When you looked up, he shook his head.

“I said the dress. The shoes stay on.”

Well, if you hadn’t been wet before, you were now. The tone of his voice and the seriousness of his face only added to the hotness factor and at that point you would have followed almost any demand he made of you. Leaving the shoes on, you pulled the dress over your head while he watched. Even though you hadn’t really been anticipating your date progressing this far, you had still prepared with a pair of satin panties and lace bra that matched the same jewel tone as the dress you dropped onto the floor.

Five didn’t say anything, just eyed you up and massaged the back of his neck. Then he let out a long, shaky exhale.

“Are you ok?” you asked, suddenly a little concerned he might not be liking what he saw.

Five nodded, his gaze not leaving your breasts. “Yeah, just give me a second. I’m trying not to come in my pants.”

Your astonished laugh was quickly cut off when you found yourself pinned against the wall on the other side of the room, the fluttery sensation of one of Five’s spatial jumps lingering in your stomach. Your squeak of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, as he pushed hard against you, his hands on your tits.

When he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip, you moaned and closed your eyes, jerking your hips into him. Your hands found their way to his hard chest and muscular arms, feeling them tighten and relax with each movement. He let you tug his shirt the rest of the way off and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pressed his face into the side of your neck and lifted one of your legs up to his waist. His hard cock was grinding into you as you drew in a ragged breath. When you felt his lips against your skin and his warm breath as he brushed his mouth over your neck, you let out a loud whine.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Let Daddy hear you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and holding you tightly to him.

“Woah…Daddy?” you breathed out.

Five nodded, moving to the other side of your neck. “Is that ok?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy,” you moaned, running your hands greedily down his back.

You felt him smile against you and his kisses turned into small nips that he trailed down your neck and onto your shoulder.

“I want you. I can’t wait,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

“The bedroom is in there,” you said, pointing to the room just on the other side of the wall.

Five let your leg down and you pulled him by the hand into your bedroom, falling onto the bed and propping yourself on your elbows as Five stood there staring again.

“Well, come on, Daddy,” you teased. “I thought you couldn’t wait.”

A slow smile spread across Five’s face as he immediately started to undress the rest of the way, until he was crawling over you, completely naked. He rubbed his cock against your inner thigh, making a quiet growling noise in his throat before looking you in the eye.

“As much as I love this little bra and panty combination you’ve got going on here, I’m going to need those to go, too.”

When you nodded eagerly, he reached behind you and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it off the bed before immediately moving farther south and ripping your underwear off. Once you were completely nude, Five sat back to take you all in. You assumed he liked what he saw, because it was only another second before he was covering you with his own body, attacking your full breasts with frantic sucking kisses.

“Damnit, honey, these tits…fuck,” he moaned as he buried his face in your cleavage.

“I take it that you’re pleased?” you giggled, threading your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head, holding himself over you while he shoved your legs further apart with his knees. Then he lowered himself to kiss you tenderly, caressing your face with one hand. You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m more than pleased. You’re beautiful.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time using his free hand to travel down your chest and abdomen, and along your inner thighs. His long fingers met the soft, wet area between them, and he slowly ran them up through your pillowy folds, making you even wetter.

“Five…” you moaned as you rocked your hips up to match his strokes.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he asked, only slightly condescending as he continued to watch your face for your reactions.

Five entered you with two fingers, pressing in slowly and then backing out again before repeating it in a slow rhythm. You chased his hand with desperate thrusts of your hips, biting your bottom lip to try to contain some of the noises that threatened to escape your lips.

“Fuck me, please,” you whined, throwing your head back.

He gave a quiet chuckle and you felt his hand move away from you. Then he was positioning himself between your legs and lowering himself so that you could feel his dick rubbing against your slit.

“God, I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’m going to fuck you like you want, gorgeous. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasped when you felt him enter you, just slow enough not to be jarring, but not drawing it out, either.

When he was fully inside, you angled your hips so he was at just the right spot.

“How’s that?” he whispered as he slowly pumped into you.

“That’s good…” You grabbed at his shoulders and back. “Keep going.”

Five continued his slow and lazy thrusts while holding himself over you so he could look down at your face and body. His hair fell forward over his eye and he made quiet groaning noises that were punctuated with soft kisses.

“You feel so damn good,” he moaned.

“Five?”

“What do you need, darling?”

“I need you to really fuck me. Hard.”

He looked down at you, momentarily stopping his movements. Then he laughed quietly and you smiled back. “Well, I did say I’d fuck you like you wanted, didn’t I?”

When he pulled out, you let out a soft sigh and watched as he crawled back off the bed, his dick still hard and wet from being inside of you.

“Wha--?” you started to ask, right before he yanked your legs sideways, so that you were laying across the width of the bed.

Five positioned himself between your legs, holding them up under your knees and settling them on either side of his waist while he lined himself up and slammed into you again.

“Is this what you wanted?” he snarled, continuing to thrust into you hard and fast.

“Yes!” you cried, clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Every time he pounded into you, you got to feel the intensity of his strength as your entire body moved back and forth, your tits bouncing enticingly in front of him. He gave your voluptuous ass a hard slap that made you cry out again. You instinctively covered your mouth with your arm.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Five warned through clenched teeth. “Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you scream.”

Everything he was doing and saying was driving you quickly over the edge, and you did scream for him, just like he wanted. You couldn’t even help yourself.

“Yes…please…keep going…harder, please! I need more!”

You were begging and pleading while he railed into you as hard as he possibly could, thrusting his thick cock deep inside of you while slamming his pubic bone right into your clit every single time. All while completely supporting your lower body, angling it up and off the bed so he could fuck you relentlessly and perfectly.

Soon, you felt your muscles start to twitch and your head fell back, your mouth wide open as you repeatedly asked him to fuck you harder. When you finally hit that wall, you completely lost yourself, screaming his name while bucking and thrashing wildly against him.

Your orgasm was still coming in waves when Five released himself inside of you, his head tipped back and jaw set, growling obscenities while his muscles contracted and he dug his fingers harder into your thighs.

When the intensity had passed, Five let go of your legs, setting them gently down, and he leaned over the top of you, his hands on either side of your head. He kissed you tenderly, still trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said with a heavy exhale.

You nodded, laying a hand on his cheek. “So damn good.”

After another minute, you both moved so that you were lying longways on the bed again. Five held you against his chest while he kissed your forehead and traced his fingers down your arms and back.

“I’m not sure why we haven’t been doing that all along,” he joked.

“Because you needed to get to know me and my sparkling personality first.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Sparkling? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.”

When you giggled, he pulled you close to him. Your lips pulled to the side in thought and after a few seconds you decided to just put it out there.

“Are you sure you’re ok with my body? I mean, I am, but I just want to make sure you are, too. Because if this is going to continue, and I really hope it does, then I need to know you’re going to be ok with my size and not try to change me after a while. I’ve dated men in the past that said they were ok with it, but then a month or so later, they’re encouraging me to go to the gym or making comments about my diet. They all got kicked to the curb, because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I am who I am and I love my body. I just want to make sure you do, too.”

Five was quiet for a moment, then he held your chin in his hand. “Look at me,” he said quietly, while tilting you face up. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that body type or looks matter to me, because it doesn’t. I just had the most mind-blowing sex I have ever had, and I wouldn’t change one single thing about you. You’re perfect.”

“Wow,” you said with a smile. “Five Hargreeves just called me perfect. Wait until I spread this rumor down at headquarters.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “You believe me, don’t you?”

You nodded. “I believe you. And thank you.” You gave him a soft kiss and smiled. “So, does this mean I can keep sexually harassing you at work?”

“I hereby give you permission to harass me as much as you want on a daily basis. I will welcome it.”

After that first date, you and Five couldn’t get enough of one another. It was like just being in the same building with him set your body on fire. You would find yourself staring off, lost in a daydream about what his mouth felt like and then someone would clear their throat or say your name, and you’d realize they had been talking to you without you noticing.

Obviously, everyone knew that something was going between you two. You hadn’t exactly spread the word, but you also hadn’t denied it. You didn’t really care what anyone thought, anyway. The only problem was, there was a strict policy of no relationships between case managers and field agents in place. This was done to protect the agents, and to avoid any favoritism with assignments. A few casual flings here and there were overlooked, but serious relationships were usually squashed. Not that you would describe what you had as serious. Yet, anyway.

You did love spending time with one another, even without the sex. You even made Five join you at lunch with your usual group, much to the shock of your friends. It was awkward at first, but when Five cracked a very dry and cutting joke about someone in upper management, the table went silent for a second before bursting into laughter. He looked at you in surprise, like he couldn’t believe he was having this type of positive social interaction. You just smiled and shrugged, mouthing “I told you so”.

Despite the fact that you spent a lot of time together outside of work, that didn’t stop either of you from taking advantage of your proximity at the Commission. You had lost count of the number of times you two had stolen away somewhere in the building for a quickie during the day. With Five’s status plus his convenient teleportation powers, you could hide anywhere you could think of that would give you at least a few minutes of privacy.

You would be sitting there, attempting to work on a case, when Five would come strolling in. Just the sight of him striding into the room, all confident and sexy with that tiny smirk on his face, made you want to jump on top of him. He would approach you with some made up problem he had and ask you to go with him so you could help straighten it out. It was pretty apparent what was going on, and your coworkers would exchange glances around you, but you didn’t care.

Once you were safely down the hallway, Five would grab you and blink you into some abandoned storage room where you were immediately attacked. You had told him to stop being so aggressive while at work, because the hickeys he was leaving on your neck were clearly visible. But that didn’t stop him from shoving you against a table or a wall, all while kissing you fervently and telling you how much he wanted you in that deep, growling voice of his.

Dropping to his knees to eat you out while kneading the flesh of your ass. Spinning you around to bend you over a table before fingering you and then fucking you from behind. Biting and sucking at your tits and stomach, leaving marks that would be hidden by your clothes, but were still a reminder of who you belonged to. All of it was expertly done, as only Five could do, and you couldn’t get enough.

The servicing wasn’t a one-way street, though. You liked to flip the tables sometimes and push him against the wall, sliding slowly down his body until you were kneeling in front of him, hands already clawing at his belt and zipper while you called him Daddy. When you would take all of him into your mouth, he would hiss through his teeth and groan loudly, his hand resting in your hair while he praised you for being good for him. He wanted you to look at him while you sucked him off, and tell you to finger yourself while you did it. You’d be choking on his dick, a hand shoved into your panties, and both of you moaning until you came; all while the throngs of Commission employees were passing by right outside the door.

It was quickly becoming apparent that your relationship was evolving into something more. You were starting to spend more nights together, sleeping in one another’s beds, curled up together and waking up happy in the morning, just to be near each other. Five loved cuddling up with you, pulling your soft body close against his, and nuzzling into your neck or hair. He told you how happy you made him and thanked you for pulling him out of his shell. He’d idly stroke your arms and thighs while you would lie together in the dark, just talking quietly. In the morning, he’d trace patterns over the white, jagged lines that criss crossed your abdomen and hips, reminding you how beautiful you were as the sunlight spilled across your bed.

Your feelings for Five were starting to seep into your everyday routines and the work you normally prided yourself on. You found yourself worrying about every assignment he went on, even though you knew he was a professional and could handle it.

After a while, the cases you started assigning him got easier and easier, whereas before you would have given him the most difficult and dangerous ones. He finally called you out on it when he received a total rookie assignment while another agent that was not nearly as skilled received a much more complicated one.

He sat on the corner of your desk, a smug grin on his face, as he dropped the file in front of you.

“What the hell is this?” he asked you, still smiling.

You glanced down at the file, then back at him. “What do you mean?”

He tapped the file with his finger. “This garbage. It’s a case for a newbie. Hell, you could probably hand this to any random person off the street and they could do it. So what’s going on?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and frowning. “Maybe I thought you just needed a break, that’s all.”

He studied your face and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Every case I get from you these days is getting simpler and simpler. I just haven’t said anything until now. Are you losing faith in my abilities, is that it?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Of course not! It’s just, you know…” Your voice trailed off and your eyes flitted away from his.

“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hands onto the desk in front of you, looking up at him. “Fine. I’m scared to give you anything complicated because I’m afraid something will happen to you. And I don’t really want my boyfriend being gunned down or stabbed or beaten all to shit, ok? Especially not in another timeline where you might not even be able to come back.”

Five took a second to absorb that information, then he looked down with a smile. “You really worry about me?”

“Yes, I worry about you. Is that so bad? You might not be as amazing as you think you are. You’re not infallible, you know.”

Five made a face like he hadn’t actually considered that before, which was mildly infuriating, and then he looked at you with that gentle smile of his that you knew he saved only for you. He leaned in and gave you a quick but tender kiss full on the mouth, even though you were still in a roomful of people that could see. When he pulled away, you felt your face flush, but not from embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he whispered earnestly.

Then he flashed you that arrogant smirk again, the dimple on his cheek deepening, before snatching a much thicker file off your desk, and blinking away without another word.

It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before Corporate caught wind of your relationship. Especially when you were making erratic decisions with your cases lately. Both you and Five received a notice from senior management requesting a meeting. You were a mess of anxiety and nerves when the time came. Your career was important to you, and it was not in your nature to just throw that away for some man. But Five wasn’t just any man, was he? If you were going to have to choose between your job and your relationship with him, you had no idea what you were going to do.

Sitting in front of the executive’s desk, your leg bounced up and down with nerves as you waited for Five to join you. When he arrived, he had the absolute audacity to look calm and unbothered as he sat down in the chair next to you. He greeted the manager and then turned to give you a wink and a small smile. You really had no idea how he could be this nonchalant. Maybe he didn’t care if you had to end things.

“As I’m sure you know, the reason you two have been called here today is –”

Five cut your manager off mid sentence. “Yes, we are fully aware. According to section 64, subsection D of the Commission Code of Conduct, we are prohibited from being in a romantic relationship with one another.”

The executive paused. “Well, yes, that’s correct. And so –”

“And so you have to inform us that we either have to end our relationship or resign from our positions.”

There was another moment of perplexed silence from across the desk. “Uh, yes…”

“But that is only because of the current departments we work for, due to conflicting interests, correct?” Five continued.

“That is correct, yes. But—”

“So, if we move to the same department, that shouldn’t be an issue?”

“Well…yes…I suppose…”

You looked at Five, completely confused. “Five, what are you doing? You don’t want to work in case management. I know you don’t.”

He nodded. “You’re right. But you can train to become a field agent.”

Your mouth hung open. “What?”

“You’ve only mentioned that you were interested in being out in the field about 50 times, so why not? They can always use more agents,” he turned to the manager, “Isn’t that right?”

The man cleared his throat. “Oh. Well, yes, that’s true.”

Five nodded again, as if that explained everything. “Alright then, so move her to my department. She has the determination and skill. And you have my official recommendation, which as you know, holds a lot of weight around here.”

There was another look of bewilderment in your direction. “Yes, Mr. Hargreeves, that’s true. I suppose we could do that—”

Five stood up with a smile. “Great! It’s all settled then.” He turned to you, still sitting in your chair and trying to make sense of all of this.

What he had said was true. You had told Five many times that you wished you could have his job. But you figured that was outside of your skill set. Five didn’t seem to agree. He knew you were highly intelligent, strong, and had the right personality. You just needed the proper training.

He reached out a hand to pull you up. “Is this all ok with you, darling? Do you have anything to add?”

You shook your head slowly. “Uh, no…I mean, yes…I mean, yes I’m ok with it and I don’t have anything else to add.”

“Great!” Five turned to the manager. “Just send me the paperwork we need to fill out and we can call it good.”

The manager shook each of your hands and it appeared that the meeting was over before it began. Five guided you towards the door with a hand on your back. You looked over your shoulder, still unsure of what exactly just happened, but you let him push you outside into the hall.

“What the fuck, Five?” you demanded, hands on your hips. “You want to tell me what is happening right now?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? They weren’t going to let us keep dating if we were working in our current departments, so one of us had to move. And I know this is what you really wanted.”

You thought for a moment. “So…you didn’t think of breaking up with me just to keep things the same?”

His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it shut again, his brows furrowing and creating deep creases between his eyes. “No. Of course not.” He took a few steps closer to you and took your face gently into his hands, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”

You drew in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, this time with a smile.

You answered him, your own grin spreading slowly across your face. “Say that again.”

Five laughed, leaning down to kiss you and you hugged him around his waist. “I love you,” he said again after breaking away.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t know if I realized it until just now, but I do. I love you so much.”

Five nodded. “Well, that’s a relief. Because I would have looked like a giant asshole if I did all that and you shot me down.”

Laughing, you reached up for another kiss that quickly turned very heated. When you pulled away, Five was breathing hard and he tugged your body harder against his.

“There’s an empty room down the hallway over there,” he said suggestively.

You shook your head. “Sorry, honey, but we have to get to work. I have a lot of training to start on.”

“I think you forget who your new boss is,” he said in that serious tone of his.

Five pulled you in tightly again, kissing you hard on the mouth and flattened you against the wall. His hand roamed down to your chest and he gave your breast a small squeeze while pressing his knee in between your legs. When he heard you moan softly into his mouth, he backed away with a grin.

“You know, I can report you to HR for sexual harassment,” you said with a crooked smile, even though you were having a hard time controlling your heart rate.

“It’s not harassment if you like it,” he shot back before giving you a loud smack on the ass.

Then he turned around and walked away, leaving you flustered and hot; but also with that amazing feeling in the pit of your stomach from knowing you had found the perfect person to love and that loved you just as much in return.

[simplyvyn]

── .✦ small step, big step !

Sypnosis; bllk guys with a ballerina lover. <3

Multicharacter drabble: rin, isagi, bachira, nagi, reo

RIN ITOSHI

He does not believe it. How come he's only hearing this now? The fact you do ballet? And the fact there wasn't even a single clue. The first (not really) clue was when you shared a post on your profile of your ballet performance last week. And he.. well— stared at it for good about five seconds, till he scrolled through the pictures, comments and even the profile of who posted it. And by now its obvious that you have been doing ballet for a long time.

He mentioned about it when he was helping you make dinner at your apartment. "Hey.. so.. do you.. do ballet?" He questions shyly. Somehow. "Oh yea, yea! Have been for a really long time!" And he just stared at you for a secon till an automatic reply came out his mouth. "How come i did not know about this?" "Well you were busy with soccer, and i was busy supporting you with soccer so..!" You said, while shrugging and cooking fried rice. "Well you can be busy with ballet and i also can be busy supporting you with ballet, right?" He said, while looking at you. "You sure? You're quite devoted with your soccer career y'know." You replied while looking at him for a second. "But I'm devoted to you as well." Rin's automatic reply came out of his mouth once more. "..Alright. You're invited to my next performance then, so you can see how pro i am." You say with a smirk. And rin just deadpan at you.

ISAGI YOICHI

He adores how precious you look. Unlike Rin, he already knew, and its actually how he met you for the first time! It was from social media when he was scrolling, and found a video of your performance and he realized it was you! His classmate! and ever since that, he promised to you and himself, he will keep a streak with your performances.

Practice done, ate lunch done, dolled up (of course) done, and running to the stadium of your next performance. Before entering though, he fixed his hair, fixed his clothes, perfume, mirror and you know the gig. And then he entered and took a seat. He can't believe how gentle you dance at the floor with good balance. It so smooth and calming to watch. Sometimes, whenever watching you, he compares it to how he plays in his own sport. After your performance, you told him to go backstage, after you change. When you did he congratulated you and showered you with compliments. "Hi baby! Great performance today, as usual. And as usual, here, flowers." Throwing you bouquet at your arms, and you smiled at him while pointing at a bench full of flowers and gifts and he already knew where it came from. "It's fine. Yours is the most special, don't worry." Yehey! Isagi reacted.

MEGURU BACHIRA

Wow, this is just beauty and the beast at this point. You, a total beauty. Gently dancing, twirling, and taking small steps! And well! He's there with his own beast, roughly playing, dribbling and running big steps. Yet, with the polar opposite trope. You two still manage to fascinate each other and neither do you wanna stop. But this time, your not lovers yet. But you two definitely look like it.

There was a school ballet performance once again in your school and you were very excited and you were also invited. Hooray! But you're not the only one happy that you're gonna dance. When Bachira heard the news, he was smiling from ear to ear, cheeks with a pink tint, and he can already imagine your performance. Except, its obvious that its his imagination, with the way you look in his imagination. At your performance, when its about to start, you saw that bee-colored hair guy watching you and you tried your best to resist your smile and he waved very excitingly at you. And i mean very. And you waved back. After the performance, and a very tired body, leaving the school, you saw Bachira again and you couldn't control your smile again. As if your body was actually not tired. When Bachira saw you, he ran to you and hugged you while congratulating you. "Your dance was majestic as always! You should dance more! I like how you dance. Its very.. pretty." He said with a gentle smile this time while his hands were on your shoulders. "Definitely will for you." you said with a smile, ear to ear.

NAGI SEISHIRO

Just like Rin, he only found out recently yet already supported you! But yet, its so weird how you're so devoted in this sport. You make sure everything is perfect, smooth and clean. Days before your performances when he wakes up, he sees you doing stretches, yoga, practicing and more. Like, why do you need everything to be perfect, you doing a twirl was already perfect for him? 10000000 points, man!

"Babyyyy its, 6 in the morning, why are you doing pie–lates, early in the morning?" Nagi asked while peaking out from the door as he is in your bedroom. "Only 2 weeks till my next performance, sei. And, dear... Its PI–lates. How do you get high scores in your school?" You say while switching to another position. "The power of Choki of course. Its all by luck." "Yyyaaaa..! Luck..." you say while rolling your eyes. "Enough about these grades. Just go back to bed." He said while getting of the room to pick you up until you spoke. "If you move me from my position, i swear to god—" "Alrighty madam, please dont tie me up in backstage again until your performance is done. You know i hate waiting..." "I DON'T TIE YOU UP? I just push you in the couch and you yourself is the one who doesn't want to stand up!" You barked back. "Potato, tomato. Same thing."

REO MIKAGE

At this point, he is your manager. Makes sure your prepared and good to go on stage! Either way it will be more than worth it since he gets to watch you dance and the fact he's the one who dolls you up, picking your dress, fixing your hair and makeup, and the world sees it. If one is to watch your performance besides this man, they will see him with hearts in his eyes glowing, with a cheeky smile, and blush on his cheeks.

Your next performance is next week. You couldve prepared in the weekends but no... This man needs you to prepare your ballet dress for the whole month! "Let's get this one! Oh this one too! Now lets go buy shoes!" He said like a lightbulb lit up on top of his head. In instinct, he pulls you and the cart to the cashier to pay. Theres at least 3 ballet dresses. So i gues thats okay.. "Next month, we go shopping again, okay?" Nevermind, not okay. "Reo, i dont need all of these, i dont even have space in my apartment for all of these!" "Then i will keep them in stock in my penthouse. Plus you will stay there right?" You were unsure because a part of you was really.. scare of his parents so you just nod gently. "A-are you sure this is okay? Won't your parents cook me ALIVE?" You said while this rich man, grabs the shopping bags for you. Leaving outside. "It's fine~! My parents won't even notice this, dearest! And i bet they'll want to after they see your performance!" THEY? "W-what do you mean see my performance?! I can't even buy them tickets!" "Dont worry, darling, I did! Soo, shoes next?"

Taglist: @koieroeroero

TYSM FOR WAITING SO SO SORRY I MADE YOU WAIT FOR A LONG TIME.. (prioritized my school😓) made sure each part was realistic at least cuz idk ballet much😞

[yandere-sins]

You know how, irl, people get fascinated and turned on by the IDEA Of a yandere? And how a yandere, ofc, stalks and learns as much as they can about their darling? I just imagine the Yandere using that to their advantage and to their Darling's horror. "Oh, but you like this don't you? You've read so many smutty tumblr stories about being taken and taken and held hostage. You reblogged so many headcanons about a character killing your bully or that co-worker you hate. I know all your questionable porn tastes. I know all your deep, dark secrets. I know your violent vent posts that I got to enact for you, Darling! I've given you everything you've ever fantasized about, so of course you'll love me. <3" And of course, the yandere fails to realize that any of those behaviors or actions in real life is absolutely, gut-wrenchingly horrifying. But they think they're giving their darling everything they could ever want, and they'll continue to do so until they stop playing hard to get.

Ngl, probably one of my worst fears for the future, but thanks for requesting because it makes good yandere content :'D

I'm imagining a really smug yandere, you know? One that thinks they are doing you such a big favor and give you all their love by expressing it this way. But in reality, they don't even realize how messed up it is.

They were just breaking into your home after you went to bed to admire their darling from afar for a little bit. They are not daring to stir you from your sleep when they can stand beside you and watch. It is enough; they won't be greedy. But they couldn't have known they'd find the holy grail of smut and depravity on your bookshelf when they started browsing as their curiosity got the better of them. They are almost appalled by their darling, if not for the fact that when they browse through the pages of a random book, the words kidnapping, stalking, love, murder, and quite a few more seem like a temptation made for them especially.

So, you actually like that kind of stuff, huh?

Someone following you on a dark street, their steps noticeable but their face masked as they are always just five steps behind you. You run, they run. There's a red rose on your windowsill the next day. It scares you, but they know now that you are just pretending. That your heart is beating faster now, elated by the chase and the promise of love it brings. The fact that you have your own mad person excites you. The yan continues to borrow one book after the other, annotates them, and takes notes for themselves before putting them back onto your shelf for you to find one day, horrified to see lots of "I'd love to do this to you," "How about I kill the coworker you hate—would that make you love me?" and "Love this, love you, always you" in them.

They thought being a silent observer, loving you from afar, was the way to be with you. But they can't help but masturbate to the sex scenes, thinking about how they'd reenact them with you. Your books will be devastatingly ruined by stains and tears in the pages as they have either ripped out a scene to save for later or bit into the book as they've hit their orgasm. Your bookshelf was a collection of dark romance before, but now it is literally the remnant of a massacre of the once neat collection.

But of course, they won't stop there.

Everyone gets sick of reading books someday, even though it's been nice doing it sitting next to you—part of the yan hoping you might wake up and they get to act out some of the scenes you read about. However, there are more things to uncover and learn from. Your public social media they've stalked so far was nice and dandy, but the favorites and posts you hide on your private computer have so much potential to learn from.

The yan can learn about all these little desires of yours. The masks you like, how you want to be taken, cared for, and loved forever. You seem to believe in soulmates—crazy! They do, too! If the yan is delusional enough, it turns out that you two are so similar to each other—a perfect match. Even the kinks they didn't share with you before can be arranged with enough dedication to you. They'll make preparations so you'll be able to ease into these depraved things that you kept hidden from them. You might have been afraid to act on your desires, but the yan is ready to let you live them out to the fullest.

Never mind that you cry after being chased home, it's what you wanted, right? It doesn't matter how you actually feel when they harass and stalk you, leave you little notes and flowers everywhere, because they are just doing what your book-partners would do (it worked for them, after all). You wanted the yan to be possessive over you; why are you sad that no one wants to be your friend when the yan went to the trouble of making sure everyone would be too scared to approach you? And really, aren't you grateful for the yan taking care of your coworker problem? Was sending you their pinky not enough proof of their love?

How come you don't love them yet? When will you love them like the protagonists of your books?

Haven't they done enough? Are you seriously saying you don't like their gifts and dedication to you? Or perhaps you are just trying to play hard to get... of course! That must be it. You are so lovely; you must know that you deserve to be desired immensely. Only they can desire you as much as to go to such lengths, but perhaps it hasn't been enough yet. You deserve more. You are waiting for the yan to prove their undying, absolute love for you. It must be something big, something extraordinary. Something that will show you just how much they care about your interests and especially you.

They will take you and give you the life you want—you deserve.

Even if you hate them for it.

[secretmellowblog]

Another reason I dislike Les Mis adaptations that make Jean Valjean constantly openly angry/violent is because they miss that Jean Valjean is not allowed to be angry. The fact he is forbidden from expressing anger is, I argue, actually a very important part of his character in the novel!

One of the subtler political messages of the story is that some people are given freedom to express anger, while others are forced to be excessively meek and conciliatory in order to survive.

Wealthy conservatives like Monsieur Gillenormand can “fly into rages” every five minutes and have it treated as an endearing quirk. Poor characters like Fantine or Jean Valjean must be constantly polite and ingratiating to “their superiors” at all times, even in the face of mockery and violence, or else they will be subjected to punishment. If Gillenormand beats his child with a stick, it’s a silly quirk; if Fantine beats a man harassing her, she is sentenced to months in prison.

(Thenardier and Javert are interesting examples of this too. Thenardier acts superficially polite and ingratiating to his wealthy “superiors” while insulting them behind their backs. Javert, meanwhile, is completely earnest in his mindless bootlicking. But I could write an entire other post on this.)

The point is that….Jean Valjean has to be submissive and self-effacing, or he puts himself in danger. He can’t afford to be angry and make scenes, or he will be punished. The only barrier between himself and prison is his ability to be so “courteous” that no one bothers to pry into his past.

Jean Valjean is excessively polite to people, in the way that you’re excessively polite to an armed cop who pulls you over for speeding when you secretly have a few illegal grams of marijuana in the your car trunk. XD It’s politeness built on fear, is what I mean. It’s politeness built on a desperation to make a powerful person avoid looking too closely at you.

It’s politeness at gunpoint.

Jean Valjean has also spent nineteen years living in an environment where any expression of anger could be punished with severe violence. That trauma is reflected in the overly cautious reserved way he often speaks with people (even people who are kind and would never actually hurt him.)

So adaptations that have Jean Valjean boldly having shouting matches with people in public and beating cops half to death without worrying about the repercussions just make go like “???”

Because that’s part of what’s fascinating about Jean Valjean to me? On one hand, he is a genuinely kind compassionate person, who cares deeply about other people and behaves kindly out of altruism. But on the other hand, he was also “beaten into submission” by prison, and forced into adopting conciliatory bootlicking behaviors in order to survive. And it can sometimes be hard to tell when he is being kind vs. when he is being “polite” — when he is speaking and acting out of earnest compassion vs. when he is speaking and acting out of fear.

The TL;DR is that I think it’s important that even though Jean Valjean is very (justifiably) angry about the injustice that was inflicted on him, his anger is harshly policed at all times— by other people, and by himself. He has been told his anger is wrong/selfish so often that he believes it. His anger takes weirder more unhealthy forms because he has no safe outlet for it. His rage at society becomes a possessiveness towards Cosette and silent hatred of Marius, but primarily it becomes useless self-destructive constant hatred of himself. And while I might be phrasing this wrong, I think that’s what’s interesting about Jean Valjean’s relationship with anger— the way his justified fury at his own mistreatment gets warped into more and more unhealthy forms by the way he’s forced to constantly repress it.

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 5

James Potter x Reader

Summary: The search for your mystery suitor draws to a close as you finally make an advance on your lovesick admirer…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, secret admirer trope, strangers to friends to lovers, James gets his confidence back, aggressive flirting, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 2.6K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Hi boys, hi Jamie!” James almost fell off his chair, gripping the table and steadying himself. Sirius snorted at the flustered boy, stumbling and flailing at the nickname.

You had approached the Marauders that morning with books piled in hand, fulfilling Remus’ offer to study with them once again that weekend. With Charlie and Hope using their free time to visit Hogsmeade, you were left to flirt with the young Potter all you desired.

You had told your friends about the growing suspicion surrounding the boy that morning, and James was about to find out just how dedicated you were to the investigation.

James watched you eagerly, eyes wide at the sight of you sitting next to him once again. “Hi, love,” he sighed, still staring in awe at your freshly washed hair and bright smile. While he tried to match your style with the affectionate nickname, his voice was laced with shaking nerves as he sought that courage that came so naturally around other girls.

The other boys were openly snickering at his lovestruck face, assuming you had caught onto James’ enamoured gestures by now. Remus pushed the History of Magic textbook between the two of you, though he didn’t say a word about actually using it. He was far too fascinated with the promising tension developing between you and his friend.

“I’ve been having the most eventful week, lads,” you began, motioning for the boys to lean in closer, with James inching his chair across to touch yours. “Someone in this school has been sending me love letters.”

After a beat of shock, all four boys started rambling exclamations of surprise and curiosity, as if they didn’t already know about your secret admirer. James gulped at your confession, mentally cursing himself for waiting just too long to react naturally. “Oh, really! That’s news! Do you, um…have any idea who it is?”

You met the boy’s gaze and whispered, “I have my theories…I mean, so far we’ve deduced it’s a boy with high intelligence, a good heart, and a crippling obsession over me.” James’ breath hitched, eyes flickering from yours to Remus’, before landing back at you.

“Well, I can’t blame him love! Who wouldn’t be obsessed with a pretty thing like you,” Sirius smirked, “In fact, I have some theories of my own about who this boy could be…”

“Well, my suspects have been narrowed down to about five Gryffindor boys, and I’m really hoping it’s the cutest one,” you held back a giggle at James’ parted lips. He prayed to Merlin that you could possibly consider him an option, let alone think that he’s the one you found the most attractive.

“But to be honest, with the way he writes about me I think I’d jump him the second he reveals himself to me, handsome or not,” you said noncommittally.

In that moment, James threw all his reservations out the window. He no longer cared if you noticed his obsession with you, the lingering stares, the flustered reactions. He wanted all of you, and he just had to do something about it. There was no point in letting his nerves dictate his behaviour around you, not after you had just given him the James Potter Flirting Experience™ opportunity of a lifetime.

“Well, say you did care about what the boy looks like…what’s your type?” James leaned closer to you, a softened grin lingering on his lips as he spoke teasingly.

You gasped, clearly shocked by his sudden change of behaviour, but responded nonetheless. “Oh I don’t know, probably…” you looked James up and down, slowly taking in his form.

“Someone tall and athletic. I definitely prefer kind boys, but he can have a little mischief to him. Probably someone with darker hair- make that curly dark hair. Light brown eyes have always caught my fancy, oh! And I love a good pair of glasses, especially when they come with a big brain and a handsome face behind them.”

James was only inches away from your face now, his small smile had grown into a stretching, flirtatious grin, smirking at you with red cheeks. His hair was curling around his smitten face as he bent to meet your eyes, forearms crossed and resting on the table.

Three mouths hung open at the explicit display of attraction in front of them, eyes sliding back and forth between you and James, as if following a thread of affection forming between you two.

“Well, are there any boys on your list that might…match that description?” Peter squeaked to break the tense silence. You held James’ gaze in your own, smiling innocently at the boy like you hadn’t just made his entire week.

“There is one, he’s my primary suspect. Though, I’m not sure there’s much evidence to prove it’s him sending me the letters…” You broke his gaze, finally looking around at the other curious faces surrounding you. “It could just be wishful thinking.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

After finally making some productive efforts to study, you and the boys began claiming your belongings that were scattered across the table and making your way to dinner.

Walking down the hallway, James matched your pace and gazed at you through his thick lenses. “So, I know you and your friends normally sit at the end of the table during meals, but we were wondering if you lot wanted to sit with us tonight,” he quickly explained as the Great Hall came into view. “I…we really enjoy your company, and honestly we regret not befriending you sooner.”

Remus and Sirius had their backs turned to you and James, though you had a feeling they were quietly giggling together at his attempted invite. “Only if your friends agree, of course! No pressure…” he trailed off, looking anywhere but your eyes as his constant fear of rejection returned and sparked nervousness in his unsure voice.

“I’d love to sit with you! I mean, all of you. I’ll grab my friends,” you replied as the doors to the hall opened and you made your way inside.

“Brilliant.”

Scurrying over to your friends, you cleared your throat and made your announcement. “My dearest, loyal companions. For one night, and one night only…can we PLEASE sit with the Marauders? I think James and I are really making some progress here and they’re honestly not that bad!” Ok, maybe more of a blurted confession than an announcement, but the intention was there.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it, if it means so much to one of my best friends. But what happened to the Gryffindor ego that seems to follow those boys around everywhere they go?” Charlie asked, a tinge of confusion lacing her giggling voice.

“I haven’t quite figured that bit out yet, but I think there’s more to them than meets the eye. They’re actually quite lovely,” you explained, watching your friends slowly stand from their places at the table and fall into step with you, plates in hand, agreeing in their trust of your judgement.

“You know,” Hope whispered as you approached the group, “I’m really proud of you. You’re opening up, it’s refreshing to see. And you’re starting to convince me that this house might actually be not so bad, after all. You’re really brave.”

You grinned at the girl, arm taking her shoulders in your grasp and squeezing in appreciation. “That means a lot, Hope, thank you.”

“Hey! We didn’t think you’d come!” Remus exclaimed as the three of you piled into the space saved next to James. “Although, James did get you a plate of food in anticipation.”

You glanced at the boy’s bashful smile, then down at the plate he placed in front of you. Charlie, Hope, and the remaining Marauders shared knowing looks.

“Oh! This is my favourite! How did you-“

“I see you take a serving every night-“

“Thank you, Jamie, you’re so kind…”

The nickname came to you naturally as your rambling distracted you from considering what you were saying. His cheeks glowed with that familiar red tint, grinning at you with squinted eyes and a puffed chest.

The conversation carried naturally between James’ friends and your own, all giggling and smiling at each other’s witty remarks. As the night continued, you found yourself slowly leaning more into James, a service to his heart which he gratefully accepted with open arms.

His arm moved to rest across your back, hand pressed into the seat beside you and inching you slightly forward on your chair, a position that almost mimicked an embrace without being too daring.

You felt warm near his toned chest, glancing at him affectionately every now and then. You missed every time he glanced back with that same lovesick expression.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask! Seeing as we have a curfew for the next few days, and the History of Magic assignment is due next week, I thought you might want to pop by our dorm to study sometime.” Remus had been such a supportive new friend towards you over the past few days, intentional or not, so you nodded eagerly at his proposition.

Walking back to your dorm after a long dinner filled with laughs and smiles, you and your friends wished the others goodnight as you parted ways. Your eyes lingered on James, as his did you, before turning to your group with a smile. The silence only lasted a matter of seconds.

“OH MY GOD HE’S OBSESSED WITH YOU!”

“Charlie! Keep your voice down!”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James started jogging to keep up with Peter and Sirius as they left the grounds of Hogwarts. Escaping the school was a three man job, much to James’ disappointment. Remus was left in the dorm to study with you, meaning he was obligated to join the trip. What could be more important than spending time with you?

“C’mon, Prongs, head up! You can get some sweets to woo her with on our way back,” Sirius reassured him. The days spent studying with you meant the group had missed the school allowed trip to Hogsmeade, something James insisted would be worth sacrificing every butterbeer for.

“We’ll be quick, I promise! You know I can’t survive without sugar in my system!” Sirius continued rambling as the three entered Honeydukes just before closing.

James quickly gathered a bag of chocolate frogs, buying way too many for just one person so he’d have an excuse for offering them to you. They quickly payed and dashed out of the store as the workers began to turn off the lights and lock the doors.

The walk back to Hogwarts was cold and windy, but James didn’t care. He’d get to spend time with you in the comfort of his own room, all the people he cared the most about in one place. He was planning how he would confess to you on the way back, playing out every scenario in his mind.

The best case in his imagination was simply holding up a blue envelope, wiggling his eyebrows, and grinning at you like a fool while you jumped into his arms and kissed him to death.

James had a stupid look of burning adoration on his face as the three finally entered the common room and headed to their dorm.

“Honey, I’m home!” Sirius called to Remus as he opened the door. “We brought necessary supplies and-“ He was cut short by the sight in front of him. Slowly, he inched further into the room, rounding the corner and letting Peter in with a gasp. Peter then made room for James in the doorway, glancing at him with sympathy.

The chocolate frogs dropped to the floor.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The night was quiet in the Marauders’ dorm room. Remus had taken his seat on his bed as you were sat at his desk. The soft scribbling sounds of pen against paper filled the otherwise silent space as the two of you enjoyed the warmth of your newfound friendship.

After a few hours of comparing notes, quizzing each other, and chatting about your friends, Remus stood from his bed. “I might go get changed and wash up, you need anything?”

You glanced at your almost empty pot of ink, then to the fading pigment leaking from your quill. “Do you have any spare ink?”

“I don’t have any, but James definitely would. He wouldn’t mind you using it, Merlin, he’d probably thank you for touching his possessions. Try his desk over there,” he nodded across the room, leaving you to search for supplies with a chuckle.

Moving to James’ desk, you carefully shifted through his neatly organised stationary. Textbooks lined the point where the desk met the wall, and you spotted an unopened bottle of ink right next to the stack.

As you reached for the bottle, you noticed something sticking out of the closest textbook, one for your shared Potions class. The paper was dusted in a light blue shade.

You shouldn’t look through other people’s belongings, you thought, and bit back the curiosity nipping at your integrity.

You turned back to Remus’ desk, ink in hand, knocking the textbooks over in the process.

“Godric! So clumsy…” you mumbled, picking up two textbooks, a few pages of notes and…a baby blue envelope.

You stared at the material in your hand, brain refusing to believe what your heart knew to be true. Your eyes slowly drifted from the envelope in one hand to the notes in the other. The stationary, the handwriting, the nervous interactions…it all made sense.

“Honey, I’m home! We brought necessary supplies and-“ Your eyes met the source of the sound, Sirius standing in the doorway with his mouth agape. He slowly entered the room, followed by Peter, then by James.

Your face glowed with a guilty expression as James dropped his most recent purchase. You stared at him in confusion, which he returned with a look of embarrassment. You then remembered to address the elephant in the room: the envelope in your hand.

“Oh, Merlin, James- I’m so sorry! I ran out of ink and Remus said you wouldn’t mind if I used yours while he went to wash up, so I took it and knocked over all your books in the process, it slid out and I didn’t know what to do, it’s all my fault! I’m so sorry, I didn’t want it to happen like this…”

James’ expression shifted sympathetically at your rambling, composing himself and moving closer to your worried form. The other boys quietly walked back out of the room, giving you some privacy as they shut the door behind them.

“No, darling, don’t blame yourself, it’s not your fault,” he said with faltering confidence, “I meant to tell you, I really did. I was going to talk to you after my next Quidditch match - assuming we would win - because I needed the confidence to tell you. I’m so sorry, love, I really am. I hope you aren’t…disappointed…” he looked at his shoes, voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Did you mean it?”

“W-what?”

“Everything you wrote to me, did you mean it?” You clarified, a hopeful feeling washing over you. James gulped, shifting his weight between his feet as he blushed harder than ever before. “I meant every word.” It came out as a hoarse whisper as he choked on his nerves.

“Good, because I really like you, James. I honestly always have and I hadn’t even said a word to you until this year- But I desperately wanted to believe you were behind all of this, because I think you’re so charming and smart and, surprisingly, very kind.” You caught your breath after your confession, heart racing as a proud, self-assured smile emerged on your otherwise shy face.

Silence fell upon the room. You searched each other’s gaze for any evidence of ingenuity or doubt. You found none. James eventually made a sound from his parted lips.

“Willyougooutwithme!?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

AN: Oh my god this is a long one! But you KNOW I had to make some serious progress on this relationship >:3 I hope this reveal hit the spot! I’m going to be a bit busy over the next few days but I’ll definitely try to post the next part ASAP (as soon as I’ve written it ;-;) Again I’d just like to say thank you so much for all the love on this series! This is my first real writing project in a while so it’s been a blessing to have so much support so early on in my blog’s lifetime <3 Be sure to comment to be added to the tag list and like/reblog if you enjoyed!!

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

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