#Sorry this is like the longest conclusion I had

[kokokoula]

you fall first, but he falls harder

a/n: i can only write fluff, so please trust me that it's fluff. there's like, one usage of 'she', timeskip spoilers, and a bit of language. it's my longest fic yet (which isn't saying much), no beta we die like daichi

you don't know that tsukishima kei knows about your crush on him. it's so damn obvious, how you turn red so easily when he's around. unfortunately for you, though, he doesn't reciprocate, nor does he bother confronting you about it. you are his closest friend other than yamaguchi, and as much as he hates to admit it, he doesn't want to lose you as one. it's so tedious, anyways.

---

"it's our last year in karasuno, do you have anything planned?" you ask as you lay on the floor of tsukishima's room. you're supposed to be studying, since it was what you came over to do with kei and tadashi, but you gave up somewhere halfway in geography.

"it is my last year, but who knows about you? you've been slacking so much, you'd probably have to repeat a year. and could you get up?" he sighs and nudges your side with his foot.

"asshole," you mutter, cheeks growing red. if you knew that he just dodged your question, you don't do anything about it. "just you wait, i'll enroll into kyoto university and make you eat your words, beanpole."

"sure." his reply drips with sarcasm, but he doesn't doubt that you can make it far. there's a knock at the door.

"sorry for being late!"

"tadashi!!"

---

kei knows you can read him like an open book. you can tell he's having a bad day just by a conversation with him through text. he also knows that when he says that he doesn't want to talk, you immediately ring his phone.

the first time it happened, he had tried to decline your calls, or just ignore them entirely, but you're insistent. eventually he picked up, filled with pure irritation at that point.

"could you--"

"i'm heading over. i promise i won't push for any details. i'll even get strawberry shortcake on the way." you immediately stated. he paused to mull it over.

"fine, but if the cake sucks, i'm kicking you out." it's safe to say that the cake was good enough to make this a habit, so much so that tsukshima doesn't even know why you still call him to let him know you're coming over. the both of you know you will no matter what.

so here you are, sitting on his bedroom floor with him and eating desserts in silence, save for the music playing softly from his computer.

"you're gonna get in trouble with your parents when they realise you snuck out." he remarks. you shrug your shoulders, stuffing the remaining taiyaki in your mouth.

"i know."

"don't talk with your mouth full." you roll your eyes with a furious blush. somehow, you being here with him becomes sweeter than the strawberry shortcake.

---

you were there when tsukishima made the decision to go professional with volleyball.

his last match as karasuno's middle blocker had ended. his body was sore all over, but somehow the freak duo managed to convince him and yamaguchi to play one more match back at school, just the four of them with yachi. but even with landing third in nationals and a final intimate match with his teammates, he still somehow felt so unsatisfied.

the walk home with you was silent. he was grateful you didn't say anything. he couldn't handle any more questions about how he was feeling when he himself was unsure. it was when you two stepped outside the convenience store after getting ice cream did he come to the conclusion that he never wants to have a last match.

"i'm not going to give up on volleyball after graduation." he announced out of the blue. you were caught off guard for a bit, before grinning at him. "i expected that."

"why?"

"you call hinata and kageyama freaks for being so insane about volleyball, but you don't even realise that you're just as equally crazy about it as them." you said it so nonchalantly as you eat your ice cream, like you're stating a fact. now it was his turn to be taken off guard. he took a while to let it settle in before chuckling softly.

he should have known that you know him better than he does himself.

---

it's graduation day. tsukishima and kageyama are stuck with their four teary-eyed friends by their side. kei awkwardly pats your head, not knowing how to comfort you. you laugh at his feeble attempt, your rosy cheeks burning red. have you always been this cute? in the midst of all the bittersweet interactions, you get distracted by something on your phone, and let out a gasp.

"what is it, (name)?" yamaguchi asks. you're trembling slightly, and tsukishima grows worried.

"i, uh, got into kyoto university," you say in disbelief. "i actually got in!" everyone congratulates you, but you only care about one thing.

"tsukki, remember that day i told you i'd make you eat your words?" he hums in acknowledgement. you shove the acceptance email in his face, but he can only focus on how proud you look with that shit-eating smirk. "what do you have to say now, beanpole?"

he smiles. that's my best friend right there.

"nothing."

---

you were gone before the new year, and kei was handling your absence well until semester started. he had believed it'd be fine, you were only across the country, not across the world. plus, you promised you would call as often as you could.

but he doesn't see you in his classes anymore, and you don't come over when he's having a bad day. he got himself strawberry shortcake to lighten his mood like it usually does, but he only feels hollow. it doesn't help that since he's going pro, his volleyball training is almost everyday now, and with your commitments, he rarely gets to call you anymore. it hurts like hell inside.

"hey tsukki, you've been off recently. is everything ok?" tadashi calls him one day.

"i'm fine, yamaguchi." kei lies. tadashi isn't convinced.

"does it have something to do with (name) being in kyoto?"

"why would you say that?" he answered too quickly for his liking.

"well, you bring (name) up quite a bit, and when you realise she isn't there, you get all quiet and snappy." tsukishima is about to retort back, but then it hits him.

oh shit, he's in love.

---

the day you finally return back to miyagi to visit, tsukishima waits at the station with yamaguchi. kei's eyes are constantly searching the crowd and flickering to his watch every so often.

"tsukki, relax, she'll be here soon." he ignores tadashi's reassurance.

tsukishima kei is a composed man, always able to think before he acts. but when he catches sight of you, he runs. before you can register anything, he hugs you, gripping onto you like a lifeline, like he will die if he lets go of you.

"tsukki--"

"gosh, i missed you so much, you idiot." he knows you could have easily lost feelings for him when you were away.

"wha--"

"i've suffered so much because of your stupid, dumb ass." he doesn't care.

"wait--"

"i like you, so go out with me before you have to head back to kyoto." you're back, and he's scared to lose you again. every second you stay quiet, the louder his heart beats in his ears.

"really?" you finally say, your voice barely over a whisper.

"yea." another pause.

"guess i'm yours then, beanpole."

bonus:

"you know, i knew about your crush back in high school."

"what the heck?"

"you didn't necessarily hide it well."

"then i'll have you know that yamaguchi told me everything that had happened when i've been gone."

"...fuck."

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Werewolf // Cinna’s Monstertober Writing Challenge

Tags: Werewolf!Geto x Fem!Reader, Alpha!Geto x Omega!Reader, A/B/O mechanics, marking, scenting, nesting, fated mates, description of violence including murder, NSFW, MDNI

Synopsis: Suguru knew you were his before you even presented as an omega, but the pack elders did not take too kindly to him marking you at such a young age. He kills anyone who gets in his way to you.

An: If you don’t like a/b/o or omegaverse, skip this one :3. If you’re a freak like me, enjoy! Also, this was my first time making my own banner in Canva.. what are we thinking?? I am also so sorry that this one is so late.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.”

Let’s rewind, shall we?

Living in a small pack has its perks. Everyone is protective over one another and will always offer to help no matter what. Pack relations are strongest when the pack is smaller, and the pack is more likely to survive.

There are, of course, some cons as well. Everyone knows your business, and everyone wants a say in how you live your life.

For the longest you can remember, Suguru has been by your side. You two would spend a lot of time down at the creek together as kids. You two practically learned everything together: how to hunt, fish, trap, and forage.

He was your insistent shadow, and the pack elders thought it was adorable when you two were younger. He would without fail abandon the other small children to always go hang out with you. The two of you were like little partners in crime together.

Though their adoration turned to concern when Suguru never quite left your side. In fact, it was getting worse as he grew older. By the time he turned 13, He was abandoning hunting trips early to come home to you. He’d sneak out of his tent to go to yours late at night. Your parents would have to kick him out every morning, chastising both of you.

Though, the straw that broke the camel’s back wasn’t simple sleepovers and abandoned hunting trips. It was when he presented as an alpha. Everyone knew he would with how physically gifted he was as a young teen. He was also too damn protective for his own good, going as far as to breaking another kid’s nose for simply grabbing your wrist.

You were only a few months younger than Suguru, but you hadn’t presented yet. When he presented first, your parents forbade him from sleeping over. They were just trying their best to protect you. You two were “too old” and “not old enough” at the same time to be sleeping together.

Suguru, given that he now had the talk from his parents, knew what your parents were suggesting, but he hated it. He didn’t understand how your parents could think so lowly of him overnight just from presenting.

He lasted three nights. Three whole nights of not snuggling against you, not smelling your hair while you two drifted off to sleep, not hearing your soft snores in the dead of night. It was three sleepless nights.

Suguru always had an inkling that you were his. It was a rather strange feeling of possession, like he shouldn’t have to listen to your parents’ rules because you weren’t theirs. You were his.

His frustration only heightened when the pack started to impose longer hunting trips on him. Shorter hunting trips were reserved for those who hadn’t presented and mated alphas. Since they were mated, they couldn’t be away from their mate for too long; thus, getting the smaller trips.

All these things led him to the conclusion: you’re his mate, and he needed to mark you to prove it.

After a particularly taxing hunting trip, Suguru’s eyes filtered through the camp. Everyone was as painfully jovial as usual: sitting around doing absolutely fuck all. His eyes landed on you, and he could feel the tension melting away from him almost instantaneously. You were in charge of looking after the small children, even though you yourself were still a child.

His feet stomped over toward you without a second thought, and his hand wrapped around your arm tightly, pulling you along behind him.

“Ah- Sugu. Where are we going? I’m working-!” You shout as he continues to drag you along silently. “Sugu- The kids…” You murmur as the two of you head further into the forest.

“They’ll be fine for a few minutes.” He responded calmly before he glanced behind him. The camp was far enough away now. No one would be able to see the two of you unless they were specifically looking for you.

“What are we doing, Sugu?” You asked with a small nervous smile. You had started to have to look up at him these days. It was as if he was growing taller overnight. No longer just a boy.

He also started to stink — well, it wasn’t like a smelly smell, but it was unfamiliar. Your parents had explained pheromones. You didn’t particularly like them since you hadn’t presented yet.

“I need you to sit still, and don’t scream.” He instructed before he dipped his head between your shoulder and jaw. He experimentally sniffed at your neck — completely scentless. The only smell coming from you was your strawberry shampoo that he had grown accustomed to.

“Why would I-“ His large hand covered your mouth before you could get out another word, and he opened his mouth before clamping down on your neck. His K9’s punctured your skin, allowing for blood to trickle down your skin.

A pained cry fled your mouth, but it was muffled by his hand. Suguru felt his heart begin to race. It was happening. You were finally officially his. No one could tell him otherwise — not even your silly parents.

He calmly reassured you that you were okay while you softly wept. Your hand covered the bloody mark on your neck. He was just marking you. You know, like it was no big deal.

After sweetly kissing your tears away, he proudly walked you back to camp once you had calmed down from crying, satisfied with himself. Your hands were laced together like true mates.

The first to immediately notice was Satoru, another alpha who was barely a year older than Suguru. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of your marked neck.

“Suguru, what did you do?” He asks like a mother scolding her son. Usually, this was the other way around. Satoru would’ve never expected Suguru to do something as reckless as this.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Satoru. I just marked her.” He shrugs nonchalantly, still so proud of himself.

“You don’t understand. She hasn’t presented. This isn’t good. We need to-“

Your face was flushed a bright red, and Satoru could see your breath becoming more and more labored with each passing second. He frantically looked around, trying to think of what to do. Suguru probably didn’t even know that he just inadvertently forced your body to present. Having been marked, your body was now plummeting itself into a heat.

Suguru could feel you gently tugging on his hand, trying to get his attention. When he looked back at you, his eyes widened. He could tell what your body was going through, but he was just a boy. He didn’t know how to handle it.

“What are you three up to? Why aren’t the children being tended to-“ A clan elder asked after seeing the small children running around without you to watch them. His eyes landed on you, and he immediately tensed up at the scene. “What- How… Geto.”

*** *** ***

“He’s just a boy!” Suguru’s mom pleaded with tears in her eyes. Her hands clasped the young boy’s shoulders. “He has a whole life ahead of him! Don’t do this to him.”

“You’re right. He is just a boy, so it was your responsibility to teach him about these things.” A pack elder spoke.

“He’s an alpha. Even if they taught him those things, he would’ve acted on his own volition anyways.” Another spoke.

“Who even allowed him to be around her? He was suppose to be on a hunting trip, no?”

“We got back early. It was my responsibility, but we were carrying back a large buck. My mind was preoccupied. I accept full responsibility for his actions.”

“You can’t take on the full burden of responsibility. Geto is old enough to know right from wrong, and he chose the wrong path. He took that girl in the woods and marked her before she even presented as an omega.” The pack leader spoke.

Suguru stood completely motionless in front of his parents. He stayed looking down at the ground. While they argued over his future in the pack, his mind was stuck on you. They had ripped you away from him the second that the pack elder had realized that your body was in heat. He wondered if you were being taken care of okay. He wondered if you missed him as much as he missed you already. He wondered if he’d get to see you again.

“He’s done so much for this pack at such a young age. Please.. Don’t do this to him. He has his whole life ahead of him.” His mother pleaded once again. “We’ll keep a closer eye on him. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

“What about my daughter’s life?” Your dad finally spoke up after being silent for far too long. “That bastard tainted her. She could’ve presented as anything: alpha, beta, or omega, but no, he forced biology upon her with a godforsaken mark. He should be shunned from the pack.”

“He can’t be allowed to be in the same space as her. He’s already proven that he can’t be trusted. The last thing we need is for a young omega to fall pregnant because an alpha doesn’t know restraint.”

“Don’t you two have family anywhere she can stay with… just until she’s a bit older? The mark might fade after they’ve been separated for a while.” Another pack elder spoke up to your parents.

“You’re seriously removing our daughter instead of the problem child? That’s fucking rich. So, what will happen when he marks another omega far too early, huh?” Your dad argued, clenching his jaw.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Suguru finally spoke up, looking your dad in the eye. A stare off between the two ensued.

“If this is how this pack operates, fine. I don’t want her in here if we protect alphas simply due to their gender instead of the innocent.” Your dad finally grit out before stomping away from the meeting.

It took three full grown alphas and Satoru to hold Suguru back while you were leaving. They wouldn’t even allow him to say goodbye to you, not even when you cried out his name. Not even when you begged, pleaded, asked why.

*** *** ***

Suguru was never quite the same after you and your family left. It had been years. He was just a boy when they took you. Now, he’s a twenty year old brooding alpha. He was aloof towards everyone, and he only confided in Satoru. His friend seemed to he the only one who understood that he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He didn’t know that his mark would cause a great deal of stress on your body, and had he known, he wouldn’t have done it.

The rest of the pack looked at him with reserved disdain. He was a stain upon their community. Your parents were well liked in the pack, and he was the reason they weren’t there anymore.

Words kept getting tossed around, and the pack members who weren’t there for the meeting were terribly misinformed. As the rumors spread, the story became more and more horrid. They painted him out to be a monster who held you down while you begged him not to and bit your neck forcibly.

Suguru never tried to correct the stories. He had nothing to prove to these people, the people that sent you away from him. They could all think of him as a monster, especially if it meant they stayed the hell away from him.

The only thing that kept Geto from expulsion from the pack was his innate ability to hunt. His beast from was truly that of an apex predator. He went on extravagant hunting trips often, and he kept the pack fed on wonderful meats.

He looked for you, his mate, on every hunting trip. He tried to remember the faint smell that started to emit from you when your body went into heat. He looked for every sign of you.

He knew the mate bond was still strong because he could feel everything through it. He hated when you felt sad. He knew you experienced some sort of nightmares without him there to care for you while you slept. Your happiness made him feel bittersweet. He wanted you to be happy, but the thought of you being happy without him made him sick.

Your heats were the worst. Suguru would sulk in his tent in a state of horny depression. He should be taking care of you, tending to your body and every desire you had. He should be helping you nest and kissing every spot on your body while cooing praises to you.

Instead, he’s laying in his own sweat and cum, too much of a sad sack of shit to make himself go get cleaned up. His tent stunk of potent pheromones. Your heats, even while being so far away, managed to throw him into a rut each time.

He could feel your dissatisfaction. You were pining for him to come help you. It was as if you were screaming down the mate bond for him to come save you. He missed you so damn bad that he started to hate the smell of strawberries. They smelled too much of you and reminded him of what he couldn’t have

He knew that the elders still kept in touch with your parents. They were high ranking leaders in the community after all. They knew where you were, and they still opted to keep you away from him.

You and him were suffering because of the fucking elders. They caused all of this. If they would’ve kept their fucking noses out of y’all’s business, none of this would be happening.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.” Suguru was practically crying for help. He was sat in his tent, holding his head in shame. His arms and legs were practically trembling.

The homicidal thoughts started when you left. It was sneaky at first, but they only got worse over time. His friend was the only one who knew about them. He knew how badly Geto craved to end their lives.

“Let me talk to them. They might listen to me.” Satoru spoke calmly as he gazed as his heartbroken best friend. The tent was heavy with the scent of alpha rut and distress. He could tell Suguru was really going through it right now.

*** *** ***

Suguru’s beast form was nothing short of a monster. He was the strongest, right next to Satoru.

His black fur was matted with blood as he pawed at the remains of the pack leader. Satoru had tried to talk to them, but they instantly shut him down. Then, to make matters worse, they sent him away on a hunting trip that same day.

Without Satoru there to keep the thoughts at bay, Suguru literally couldn’t help himself. The beast shifted before he could even do anything about it, and he was instantly blood hungry.

Tears coated his face as he shifted back to his human form. Killing the elders didn’t even help soothe him. He just wanted his fucking mate for christ’s sake. He sat on the floor in a scatter of papers from where the two beasts had fought valiantly.

Nothing could replicate the feeling of emptiness that filled him in that moment. His best friend wasn't there. His mate had been gone for oh so long. The pack leaders were now all deceased. When tomorrow morning rolled around, he'd likely be ostracized from his pack for the murders.

He laid his head back against the wall with his hands covering his face. He just wanted to see Satoru one last time before he was expelled and shunned. He wanted to apologize and thank Gojo for sticking by him for all these years.

At some point, the sleep deprivation got to Geto, causing for him to fall asleep naked in the massacre that was the pack leader's tent. Nightmares of slaughter plagued his dreams. Your face haunted him. He wondered what could've been had he known better than to mark you at an early age.

It felt so real, that he swore he heard your voice, though it was different in his dream. Your voice wasn't as squeaky as it use to be. It was smooth with age and experience yet still soft spoken. Maybe he was forgetting the way you sounded? The thought terrified him. His memory was all he had left of you.

You were... laughing? No, it couldn't be you. The voice sounded more like Gojo's-

The tent unzipping. A gasp. "Shit. Don't-" Gojo's voice.

Geto fluttered his eyes open to see Gojo standing in the small doorway of the makeshift shelter. He had... a woman's eyes covered. Her bottom lip was trembling.

"Suguru, what did you do?" Satoru asked like he did all those years back, and suddenly, Suguru felt like a small child who had no impulse control. He quickly scrambled up to his feet, using a random sheet of paper to cover his manhood.

"You were gone, and I just... I just really fucking..." His words trailed as his eyes looked over towards the woman. His heart started to pound in his chest. She looked... so much like you. It was as if he was being confronted with the ghost of his past once again.

"I went to go get her, Suguru." Satoru calmly explained with a hint of bite in his tone. "You really think I'd listen to what those old geezers said about not going to look for her? I grilled every last one of them until they slipped up and gave me enough information to find her."

Geto's eyes were as wide as saucers, and his pupils were dilated as he stared at the woman who was quietly trembling next to Satoru. His hand covered most of her face. "Is that...?"

"In the flesh." Satoru said as his hand slowly dropped from your eyes. Chills shot through Geto's body as he saw his mate's face again.

"Sugu..." Your little nickname for him. His breath went labored as he took in the sight of you for just one moment. His eyes involuntarily filled with tears before he dropped the sheet of paper and lunged for you.

His large muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace against him. "I'm so sorry.." He whispered in your ear like a mantra. His hands roamed across your back as if he was double checking that this was real.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” He whispered again in a pained voice. This was not how he wanted you to see him. He was at his lowest. “I’ve missed you so much. It feels like I’ve been underwater this entire time.”

You gently nuzzled your face into his chest, and you took a deep breath, savoring his scent. A content hum fled your lips. He smelled like home. “I’ve missed you too, Sugu.”

Suguru had grown so much since you last saw him. His body was now muscular and toned. His hair was even longer. It was tied up in a half knot while the rest of it messily splayed down his back. He wasn’t just a boy anymore — a man now.

“I hate to be the one to ruin this reunion, but there’s dead pack elders that we have to deal with.” Satoru spoke up as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Suguru reluctantly pulled back from you, not ready to let go of his missing mate. “I have no intention of staying here.” He said, eyes glancing over to the corpse on the ground. “This pack is a shit show.”

“So, what do we do?” Satoru asked, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. It was never a question in his mind. Satoru was going to go wherever Geto went.

“We start our own pack.” Geto casually threw out the idea with a small shrug. “It’s not impossible. If those incompetent creatures could do it, so can we.”

*** *** ***

You were happy and content to follow Geto and Gojo wherever the two went. It had been so long since you’ve seen the two males. You had almost forgotten how much mischief they could get up to.

Every day was filled with hiking, trying to find a new place to settle down. Every night was spent around a small fire, listening to the stories of the two while you were sent away.

When you and Geto would finally lay together next to the fire, he’d lazily play with your hair and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He’d tell you how beautiful you were and how there was never a day that went by when he didn’t think of you.

“Have I mentioned how terrible it was without you?” He murmured in your ear while his large hand was gently caressing your hip. He would carefully slip it underneath your shirt. The pad of his thumb caressing your soft skin.

“Only a million times.” You giggled in response, looking up at him to meet his gaze.

“Make it a million and one then. It was terrible.” He quietly laughed, not wanting to wake up Satoru who was snuggled on the ground on the other side of the fire.

“I missed you too.” You replied. Your hand carefully reached up and cupped his cheek. Your head was resting on his bicep while your legs were intertwined. “I tried calling out to you often through the mate bond.”

“I felt it each time.” He admitted as his hand slowly snaked higher up your torso. “I felt each time you went into heat and needed me.”

The fire calmly crackling masked the small whimper that fled from your lips. “I’m sorry. I know that probably drove you crazy.”

“You have no idea.” He muttered as he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the mark on your neck. It hadn’t faded in the slightest. Your body knew you were his before you presented as well. “I dreamt of going out to find you.”

“Yeah? What would you do had you found me while I was in heat?”

“Mmm..” He hummed in a low tone as he gazed at you with a small smirk on his face. “I would sneak into whatever tent you were in like I use to when we were kids.” He spoke softly as his hand continued to trail up your side slowly.

“I’d find you lying there, already such a mess for me.” He went on, painting the picture vividly for you. Your eyes slipped shut as you imagined it for yourself. “Then, I’d pin you down to your nest, stopping you from taking care of yourself.” He went on, and he rolled on top of you, pinning your arms down with his free hand.

The sickly sweet scent of your arousal building lingered in the air, making Suguru’s heart pound in his chest. You smelled even more yummy than he imagined you to.

“What next?” You ask softly in a breathless voice.

“I’d kiss your lips until they were bruised.” He mumbled, and he leaned down to you before pressing his lips harshly against yours. He groaned softly as soon as he could feel you kissing back. He poured all of his love and hunger into his affections. He needed you like he needed air. You were his sole salvation - his reason for living

He carefully pushed your shirt up over your chest, and he skillfully reached behind you, unclasping your bra within a few seconds. You worked with him, pulling it away from your body before you wrapped your legs around his waist.

His hand came up and carefully cupped your breast. Hs kneaded on the soft pillowy flesh with another groan. He gently bit your swollen lip, asking for entry before proceeding to deepen the kiss. He swallowed up your small moans and gasps.

"Then," he softly pant out after parting from the kiss, "I'd mark up your neck again and again. I never want you to forget who you belong to." His head dipped into your neck, and his lips latched on to the soft skin.

He sucked, nibbled, and bit his way up and down your neck, making good on his promise to mark you up. Your hips raised up to meet his, needily searching for friction to ease the ache between your thighs.

"My poor omega.." He mumbled softly against your skin before allowing his hand to trail down and to grope you at your core.

"Fuck- Sugu.." Your voice was a soft whine, forgetting all about Gojo who was asleep not even 10 feet away.

"Shhh, princess. Don't wake him." Suguru shushed you softly with a impish grin. His hands now worked to take your pants and panties off. "Want me to keep going?"

"Please..." Your face is illuminated by the warm glow of the fire before you two. A soft blush spread across your cheeks.

"Mmm, then you have to be quiet." Suguru teased before he allowed himself the pleasure of gazing at your glistening cunt. "Oh, so pretty." He mused before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your folds.

Suguru's mind was running haywire as he generously lapped at your wet heat. He had imagined this happening so many times while he fucked his own fist. It's all finally worked out. He's finally gotten to taste you, to hear you moan his name.

Your fingers entangled in his hair, holding onto him for support while he devoured you thoroughly.

"Mmn.. Sugu~ S'close... please." You quietly whimpered out, warning him of your impending release while he slurped at your cunt, drinking down your slick as if you were a fountain of youth.

"Can you hold it, baby?" His voice was muffled as he didn't dare part from you.

"N-no, I-" You softly whine, starting to rock your hips back and forth across his tongue. You were desperate for release, nearly riding his face to get there.

Suguru tugged back away from you. "That just won't do, darling." He mumbles as he unbuttons his pants and pulls his pants and boxers down just enough. "I need your first time finishing with me to be on my cock. Think you can do that for me?"

You're quick to nod in agreement with his wish, desperately needing the approval of your alpha. You had already caught a glimpse of his size when you and Satoru first arrived. Even when soft, Suguru still isn't small. Now that he's fully hard, it's almost intimidating.

"Mmm~ such a good girl." He quietly praised as he carefully guided his cock between your slick covered folds. He held your gaze as he rubbed his tip up and down, creating a wet "schlick" noise with each movement. His poor neglected cock leaked sticky pre-cum along your core, making everything so messy.

"Bite on my hand." He instructed as he placed his hand over your mouth. "Don't want you makin' too much noise." With a small huff, you bite down onto his hand.

Humping you a few more times, Geto finally decided to push himself into you. Your body immediately went rigid as you tried to cope with the new pressure between your legs. It felt as if he was trying to split you in two, completely impaling you with his thick cock.

"Ohh~ fuuu... That's it.." Geto's voice was deeper and extremely breathy. His eyes were half-lidded as he continued to watch your facial reactions. The small tears crowding the corners of your eyes made him throb. "You're so fucking tight."

"it's not gonna fit-" You quietly whined behind the palm of his hand. Meanwhile, your fingernails were embedded into his back, decorating him with scratch marks.

"It's gonna fit, baby." He quietly reassured you as he pulled back a bit and sunk back in. Your slick coated his length, making it easier for him to push in more. "Gotta let me stretch you."

"Ngh~ ah.." Your voice cracked as your leaned your head back against the ground. Suguru's hips rolled, just barely fucking into your tight cunt. He'd add another inch with each thrust, allowing you time to gradually get use to him.

The air was filled with shushed panting and breathy whines. The sound of your sopping cunt squeezing around him was like a holy song to him. You were the only slice of heaven Geto would ever see.

He had been so caring; you hadn't even realized he was all the way in until you felt a thump towards your stomach. "Ohmygod-" The gasp fell from your mouth before you could even think to stop it. "Fuuuck... feel you right here.." You meekly murmured as you pointed towards your tummy.

"Yeah baby? Feel me all the way in there?" He humors your intoxicated speech as he's lovingly thrusting into you. "You feel so fucking good." He praised as he peppered your face in sweet kisses.

Your spongy walls cling to his dick with each soft thwack of his balls clapping against the flesh of your ass. You're completely soaked around him, allowing him to glide in and out with ease.

His fat tip was damp with sweltering pre-cum gathering at his slit. With each thrust, his tip was kissing at your womb, making you feel all dumb in the head. He occupied his mouth with kissing and sucking more love bites into your shoulders. "So good, baby... ah~ so fuckin' good." He continued to mumble praises in a pussy drunk tone.

Both of your bodies were glistening in a mix of sweat and slick. The fire raged beside you two keeping you very warm while he pumped in and out. "Can't get enough. Need more.. ngh~ M-missed you so much." He growled lowly in your ear as his tender thrusts grew sloppier - fueled by an intense need.

"Suguu~ fuck me." That little needy whine was all he needed to start forcefully pounding into you. Noise level be damned; he needed his omega on a biblical level that Satoru would never be able to understand.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Your poor cunt was practically sobbing for him - making a complete mess between your thighs as his cock rudely drilled into you. Your back arched up off of the ground, and you could feel your eyes rolling back. It felt like you were ascending to a higher being.

Suguru caught your lips in a sloppy kiss. Strings of saliva connected your mouths like strings of fate as you muffled each others moans. "Need to knot you - f-fuck, please, let me knot you."

Your legs wrap completely around Suguru's waist. "Knot me, Sugu.. hngh~ I'm s'close.."

Suguru's legs began to shake as he could feel his balls growing heavy. Instincts completely drove him to keep fucking himself into your drooling cunt. His eyes stayed on you as he felt himself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Sh-shit!" You hissed as your gummy walls suddenly tightened around him. The squelching noises slowed as he felt his knot starting to swell. His hands gripped onto your hips as he had to force his way deep inside your wet heat. The knot locking you two in place before he completely spilled inside you.

"Fuuucking hell..." Suguru breathed out as he stayed planted on top of you. His breath was labored as his hand brushed a few stray hairs from your face. "No one will ever take you away from me again. You're mine."

Bonus Scene!

Upon waking up the next morning on Suguru's bare chest, you sighed contently. Your body ached in the best way. Though, you knew it would only make this trek even harder.

You slowly sat up with a quiet groan. Your face was slightly sticky from sweat and drool. He had really wore you out last night.

"Morning, sleepy head." Suguru mumbled as his eyes rested upon your tired face.

"Mmm.. morning." You quietly hummed as your hands instinctively smoothed out your hair, trying to make yourself look presentable.

"Good morning, Satoru." The white-haired alpha spoke to himself in a grumpy, sarcastic tone as he stared at the two of you.

"It's too early for your attitude, Satoru." Suguru quietly laughed as he looked at his friend.

"You can deal with my attitude given what I had to deal with last night." He huffed as his lips curled into a slight pout.

"You didn't-"

"Oh, I did." He confirmed. "Oooohhh, please knot me, Sugu. Oh so big and strong!" He mocked your voice in a high pitched tone.

"Oh god, please stop." You whine as you covered your ears. A nervous laugh involuntarily bubbled up from your throat.

"Mmm, fuck. Gonna knot this tight cun-"

"That's enough, Satoru." Suguru playfully warned as he shook his head with a calm smile. It didn't bother him one bit that he heard the two of you last night because he knew that Satoru was going to hear you two again tonight as well.

Read the rest of my monstertober here !

[sanemistar]

NEVER MEANT TO BE

contents ★ pro hero!katsuki x gn!reader, heavy angst, lovers to exes, hurt no comfort, slight swearing, 1k+ wc. requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ mha m.list

it was another cold winter day. the weather was as cold as ever and the sky was gray and gloomy, exactly how it was like that day. you sat there pointlessly staring at the window in a lifeless gaze as your mind replayed flashbacks to the day when everything ended with katsuki, and the sound of your yelling still vividly rang in your ears as if it had just happened.

it was a cold winter day when you had another argument with katsuki. you were aware of his hot temper and notorious attitude caused by his anger issues and his difficult job as a pro hero all along, so that wasn’t news to you. but because things used to be perfect at the beginning of your relationship, you thought that it wouldn’t really be a problem. since you accepted katsuki the way he was, you thought you could handle it.

except that as time passed by and things progressed, the cracks in the relationship began to show. and his anger issues worsened more and more. until it had reached a point where he would constantly yell at you over the smallest things, and you were just fed up. you couldn’t take it anymore.

“katsuki… i can’t take it anymore, i’m done.” you blurted out. shocking not only your boyfriend, but yourself as well. you never thought a day would come when you would utter such words to katsuki, he was the one man whom you loved more than anyone else in the world, you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with him by your side.

or so you thought.

you didn’t even realize that you had been trying to convince yourself that everything was fine and nothing was wrong for the longest time when in fact, things between you and him were completely far from being fine.

meanwhile, it was just then when katsuki realized that he had messed up big time. he was just then aware of the pressure and stress he had put you through until you couldn’t endure it anymore. he didn’t even remember when was the last time he didn’t have to yell.

that moment was an eye opener for the two of you to come to the conclusion that it was too late to go back to the way you once were, and that it was probably the end.

silence loomed over the shared bedroom, turning it from the most comfortable and safest place you once thought you could ever be in to an unfamiliar, scary place you wanted to run away from. but you were anxiously fidgeting with your fingers and your feet were glued to the floor, as if there was something weighing you down. making you unable to move.

your eyes were fixated on your feet, not daring to look up. although you did wonder what expression was on katsuki’s face back then.

after what seemed like years of awkward silence, katsuki finally spoke up.

“i put ya through so fucking much, didn’t i?” surprisingly, his voice was calm and soft spoken. it was said in the same voice that you had missed so much.

“look, i’m really sorry. i’ve been nothing but shitty to you this whole time we have been together, and you deserve someone better, so i’m lettin’ ya go.” you felt a twinge in your heart, as if you were being stabbed by a sharp knife.

your heart throbbed painfully, you weren’t ready to hear what he had just said. you didn’t want him to let you go, you wanted to hear him say that he’d stay and try his best with you to make it work out.

“we were never meant to be together.” you finally looked up, eyes wide open as they met his red ones for the first time in a while.

had you and katsuki really never been a good match and you had been blind to it all along?

it just hit you that your once perfect world had crashed intensely, breaking into pieces.

everything really was over. and it happened in the worst way you could ever imagine.

you didn’t even know what to say back to all that. as if words completely flew away from your head. you just found yourself running towards katsuki, body acting on its own as you wrapped your arms around him so tightly and began sobbing uncontrollably. the tears that welled in your eyes for long began to overflow and fall down your red cheeks, finally letting go of the anguish that was paining you.

you felt his strong arms holding you back, pulling you close to him and feeling you against his body one last time.

after some time you two broke away, eyes staring as you engraved each other’s faces in your heads. he cupped your cheeks in his calloused hands and the two of you shared your final kiss, your first and final goodbye. it tasted so bitter and so salty due to your tears, you hated it but you didn’t want it to end. because after that you would no longer feel those lips against yours.

but unfortunately, it had to come to an end.

nothing else was said after that, katsuki just packed his bags and moved out. the sight of his back facing you back then had been living in your memory to this day. despite that happening two years ago.

and for these past two years you hadn’t seen katsuki once, not even in your dreams. the only times you'd see him were when he was on tv having his heroic actions celebrated. he started off as a stranger to you who became your first ever love only to go back to being a stranger you knew nothing about.

you had hated winters. not only because you weren't a big fan of cold weather and gray, cloudy skies, but also because they always reminded you of your first love who ended up making you go through your first breakup and your biggest heartbreak.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @17020

[taintedtort]

"i think i’m in love with you," kyotani blurts, not being able to hold the words in any longer. he’s blunt, he always has been, he always says what he’s thinking. well… unless you’re involved, you get him all tongue tied and soft. he hates it. for the longest time he didn’t know why you made him feel like this, but finally he came to the conclusion that he likes you, loves you, even.

your constant babbles and attempts to befriend him got on his nerves at first, but you stuck around. you kept trying even after he pushed you away and said mean things. you’re always the one that sticks by him and stands up for him, even when he’s done something wrong.

he hates feeling vulnerable or anything similar to it, so he took a while to finally accept that he has feelings for you. he wasn’t gonna say anything at first… but the words just came out, he said them without really thinking. he shakes himself out of his thoughts, waiting for your reaction with narrowed eyes.

you‘re silent for a couple seconds, just staring at him in… shock? surprise? disgust? he isn’t sure. he really hopes it isn’t the last one though.

"what?" finally comes your reply, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. his heart immediately drops. he really messed things up. he mentally curses himself, feeling stupid for letting the confession slip out.

"i— nothing, i just thought… you felt the same. never mind, forget it," he shakes his head, his words a bit bitter. had he read you wrong? everyone on the team always tells him you obviously have a crush on him. he brushed it off for a while, but he’d held onto the hope… till now. he feels so stupid—

"no! i mean— yes! i do!" you suddenly blurt, your hand shooting out to grab his shoulder, forcing his attention back on you and pulling him out of his thoughts. "i just didn’t expect you to say that, i’m sorry," you apologize, feeling rude for your delayed reaction.

he stands stunned for a moment, not really sure what else to say. you like him back, that’s good… now what? a kiss feels like too much, too soon. he did just confess that he’s in love with you though… that was probably too soon.

"kyotani?" you say, pulling him out of his thoughts once again. he’d been staring dumbly for several seconds, and suddenly you’re much closer than before, your hand still on his shoulder.

"go on a date with me," he states, not even asking. when he wants something, he just takes it.

he watches once again as your eyebrows go up in surprise, but a smile quickly forms on your face. god, he loves your smile, he always has.

"okay, sure." ♡

☆ i love him, but no one really writes for him!! figured i would, hopefully some other kyotani lovers see this ^^ (i wasn’t sure how to end this, can you tell? lol)

[sydnikov]

Fleeting || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov / fem!Reader

Word Count: 17.5k

Summary: Every moment with Andrei is fleeting.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), cheating(?), toxic relationship, alcoholic consumption, angst, cursing, no happy ending, Andrei-is-a-dick™

A/N: For those of you who have already been following me, you might remember this post—that’s what this is based on :) This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so that’s insane, but sorry not sorry. Get ready, this one’s gonna hurt 🤭

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Andrei doesn’t love you.

It becomes clear for you months after you start fucking him on the side. His likeness for you is merely an obsession, something to have all to himself.

You’re his, or were his, and that’s how he saw you. Nothing more than that, or at least that’s the conclusion you’ve come to after months apart lets you reflect on your relationship with him.

Spending a lot of time in your head, you think. About him, his actions, why he couldn’t love you the way you love him.

He always held you close to him, one muscular arm curled around your waist while the other likely held a drink in his hand. He paraded you around like a prize, happy to show off the hot piece of meat he likely thought of you as at his side.

It was hard to reach him, literally and metaphorically. You had to stand up on your toes to reach his ear, and the power imbalance just by your height difference alone only made the whole thing hotter, merely one aspect of your relationship you never really could get over.

Every time you spoke it had him grinning in a way that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You’re already so shy, too, and it’s what made up your whole demeanor, what drew him to you in the first place.

He likes sweetness. Innocence, quiet—that way you couldn’t rebel. And he loved it when you doted on him. You did your best to be everything he wanted in a girl, too. Bold makeup, skimpy clothing, speaking only to him and him alone. Best of all, you didn’t question him. His actions, his decisions, why he’d sometimes go days without speaking to you but once he called you again, you would come running without hesitation.

It took you too long to realize that he only liked you because you were someone he could fall back on when the freedom of his escapades got too boring and he needed stability. The thing is that Andrei loved you being his, but he didn’t want to ever be yours.

And you know this now, you do. The moment you went no contact and left his apartment in tears, you were calling your best friend for support and to reinforce the fact that he is the asshole, not you.

Sometimes, though, you dream. Of his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, his thick cock pounding into you from behind. The toxicity of it all that, despite everything, felt so good because your emotions were always on overdrive when with him.

Mostly, you liked feeling desired. Nobody had ever pursued you the way he did, even if your body is all he really wanted from you to begin with.

It’s been months since you confessed your feelings for him and he told you to leave; months of you wallowing, going to work, meeting with friends for drinks as a shell of yourself because without Andrei, life suddenly seemed colorless.

You miss him. The excitement, the tension, the way he made you feel. And you pride yourself on being confident, but all self respect flies out the window the moment his name is brought up. It’s wrong, too, you swear you know this, and you imagine countless times telling him off, if you ever run into him again.

For treating you like a body to warm his dick, a soulless individual with no feeling… You’re reminded of the last conversation you had with him yet again, the one that ended everything. You’d been seeing each other for months when it occurred. Months full of Andrei and the rollercoaster of emotions he had you on.

To get to the end, though, you have to go back to the beginning.

It’s January of twenty twenty-three, and you’re freshly twenty-one and experiencing the world in a way you never could before. Riding the high of getting your first serious job in college, it took no convincing at all for you to let your best friend, Maria, convince you to go out on a Friday night to celebrate your blossoming lives.

“Who are we meeting there, again?” You ask, painting your lips a bright red in front of Maria’s full-body mirror. You’ve already started pregaming, and your head is starting to buzz in just the way you like it.

Your blonde friend is quickly curling her hair, despite the fact that she’s had hours to get ready and still procrastinated until you arrived at her apartment. “Some friends from work. You probably won’t know them,” She says offhandedly, finishing her hair in record timing before snatching up the two dresses she had previously laid out on her bed. “Should I wear this in black or red?”

Raising a brow, you question her wording. “Considering I don’t work with you, I doubt I would.” Laughing, you turn your head away from the mirror to examine the two dresses she’s holding up to her body. “Do the red one, it makes your eyes pop.”

Anything would look good on Maria, though. She has this timeless sort of beauty, a blonde, blue-eyed bombshell that has eyes turning her way wherever she goes. You’d be jealous if you didn’t mind her taking all the attention off of you, considering you’re nowhere near as bold as her.

It will especially come in handy tonight, too, since these co-workers of hers are ones you’ve never met before and you don’t exactly plan on getting too close to them.

“This is why I get ready with you,” Maria sighs happily, unceremoniously throwing the black dress back onto her bed. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have heels for you!” She’s then running back into her closet, ruffling through a box before emerging with a pair of bright red stilettos.

“What’s with the red theme tonight?” You giggle as she tosses the heels to you. They look expensive, a brand you don’t recognize written in cursive on the inside of the leather soles. Maria insisted you incorporate red into your outfit tonight, whether it be subtle or bold.

She eyes you from her position on the bed, somehow managing to zip up her dress one-handed. “You don’t watch sports by any chance, do you?”

Throwing back the last of a vodka shot, you wince before responding. “My dad made me watch baseball with him sometimes?”

Maria’s face lights up like she suddenly knows something you don’t. All she does is hum in response, biting her lip like she’s holding back from telling you something.

Or, you’re just drunk. You’ve always been a lightweight. “What?” You ask anyway, finally standing up as you adjust yourself.

The blonde walks over to you, fixes the creases in your little black dress and affixes you with an approving stare. “Don’t worry about it,” Suddenly, she’s whirling around to go back for her phone, which is laid faced down on the nightstand. “Ooh, I knew those heels were a good choice. You look so good!”

As she saunters back over, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you into her side and poses for a picture, you forget all about the abrupt topic change and the fact that her red theme with questions of sports does mean something, after all.

Truthfully, you still can’t remember exactly how you got from her apartment and into a high-end bar you’ve only ever seen advertised online. Bits and pieces of an Uber ride along with downing more shots come to mind, but it’s all hazy.

You don’t really care to remember though, either, as Maria leads you through the crowded bar, arm linked through yours, with a purpose. The music is loud, so loud you think you can see the walls moving, but that’s also probably just your swimming vision.

“Here they are!” Maria is shouting over the noise, and you follow her gaze to a group of tall, imposing men surrounding two booths right by the bar.

“Those are you coworkers?” You ask, a little incredulous. Scratch that—very incredulous.

She sends you a mischievous grin. “I said friends, girl. Meet my friends!” That’s what gathers their attention, and you’re suddenly reminded that she’s just as tipsy as you right now, if not more.

Ah, fuck, you think as one of the men come over and pull Maria into a hug. He looks at you questioningly after they pull apart, and you send him a small, nervous smile.

Damn it, Maria.

“You must be the friend she mentioned,” He says, again looking to the blonde beside you for confirmation. “From college, yeah?”

That seems to snap Maria out of whatever stunned stupor she’d been in, and she tunes back into your conversation by, again, pulling you into her. “My best friend,” She swoons, and yeah. She’s definitely drunk now.

“Nice to meet you,” He’s chuckling, and seems to be familiar with her antics. “I’m Martin.”

You introduce yourself and shake his offered hand. “Any leftover shots, by any chance?” While taking the lead in conversation with people you’ve never met before might seem odd, you don’t think you can rely on Maria to socialize for you considering she’s already falling into your side.

“I can check, if you want to follow me—ah, shit,” Martin curses, suddenly, then quickly apologizes to the two of you before rushing over to a man with a mustache attempting to climb on top of a table.

“Interesting friends, Maria,” You say into her ear as you reluctantly follow him, keeping her close. “Who’s the one with the mustache?”

She seems to gain a little bit of her wits back to give you a description of all the guys within your eyesight. “The mustache is Seth, super friendly but also, uh… Super drunk. He’s Canadian.”

You’re not sure why you need to know his nationality, but she continues before you can ask.

“And you just met Martin, right? Yeah, he’s really nice. His girlfriend, Nykki, is gorgeous, they’re both from Czechia. Then there’s the really tall one, behind Seth? No, other side. Yeah, that’s Jesperi. A bit of a flirt even though we’re all pretty sure he has a girlfriend, but he still won’t admit it. He’s Finnish.”

Maria continues to describe a few of the others, but truthfully, you tune out after Jesperi because a man about the same height as the Finn is suddenly approaching the group, and looks to be the only one Seth listens to because that’s who gets him to crawl down from the table.

You don’t know why he catches your attention so suddenly, but something about him… He turns, and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Immediately, you come to find there’s no accurate word to describe him. His beauty simply transcends any compliment you could give; instead, you interrupt your friend from her spiel.

“Hey Mare, Mare—who’s that?” Slapping her arm, you point towards the now-laughing stranger. He’s looking around as he does so, which is when he makes contact with your starstruck eyes. He looks amused, then seems to recognize the blonde beside you, and then he’s cutting through the crowd to meet you.

Maria gives you a look before also spotting the approaching stranger, and a large smile lights up her face. It’s a smile you’re very familiar with, one that enraptures every man who catches a glimpse of her pearly whites.

You quickly come to the conclusion that this is why she was so eager to go out. She’s likely had her eye on him for a while, and you struggle to keep the disappointment from your face as she purrs his name.

“Hey, Andrei,” She says, a little giggly. “Great game today, you all played awesome.”

Andrei… You test the name silently, liking the way it feels on your tongue. He’s even taller up close, and you can see the muscle definition straining through the fabric of his shirt. He’s huge, and you feel incredibly small standing next to him.

“Thank you,” He replies, his voice deep. A little husky, definitely accented, but you’re not sure from where. “Who’s your friend?” He changes topic quickly, and those dark eyes are back on you once again.

Maria, as ditzy as she can be, does notice the subtle change in him. Andrei has never been overly flirty with her like she has with him, and she’d be an idiot not to notice the way his eyes were drawn to you the moment he spotted you.

She’s used to having all sorts of attention from the opposite sex, and the Russian hockey player is all sorts her type. It’s amusing though, watching how you melt under his gaze, thinks ‘me too’, and then decides to help you out.

“This is my friend from college,” She introduces you, says your name and watches as he takes it in like it’s very important information. Grabbing your hand from where it rests at your side, she holds it out to Andrei for you, snickers as you send her a glare. “And this is Andrei. He plays for the Carolina Hurricanes.”

This is why she asked you if you watch sports, you suddenly connect the dots. And why she was telling you where all these people are from. Her friends from work are actually sports players, and you understand why she didn’t say it outright.

These guys, they’re famous, right? Your stomach twists, and you suck in a breath as Andrei takes your hand. His palm envelops yours, and he brings it to his lips to press a heated kiss to your skin.

The greeting is outdated, but for whatever reason it suits him. You think the kiss is a promise, too, as his thumb swipes over the back of your hand.

“That’s hockey, right?” You intend to ask Maria, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of Andrei as he slowly lets go of you, like the contact is riveting for him, too. “In the NHL?”

“Yes,” He answers. “You don’t watch?” You’re not a fan like he’d expect. Strangely enough, he likes that you don’t follow them. It makes you all the more interesting, someone new to pick apart for his pleasure.

You flush, turning red under his unrelenting gaze. Suddenly, you feel out of place with your lackluster hockey knowledge. “Not a huge sports girl, unfortunately.” You say slowly, but he catches your quiet words anyway.

He’s already tuned into you—has made you into a new game to win, in his mind.

“I can fix that.” Andrei grins, and it’s almost predatory as he smoothly slides his left arm around your waist. “Do you mind if I steal her?” He directs his question to Maria, but doesn’t really give her a chance to answer before pulling you  away.

Turning your head, you find her sending you a grin as she mouths something encouraging, holding up two thumbs-ups. She’s already decided that if she can’t have this sexy Russian, she wants you to instead.

“I like your heels,” His deep voice is in your ear, suddenly, and you take your eyes off of Maria to look up at Andrei, instead. “They’re the color of our jerseys.”

“Thank you,” You breathe, letting the warmth from his compliment wash over you. “Maria made me wear them.”

He clicks his tongue, like this information doesn’t surprise him. “She has good taste. Red is definitely your color.”

You flush again, finding that his eyes are already on you when you tilt your head up. Nobody has ever told you that before… Maria is always the one getting praise, not you.

The fast beating of your heart, shaky limbs and nervous breath, and you already know you’re falling for it. His charm, his looks, his confidence; it’s addicting, and you can’t force yourself to stop as you ever so slightly lean into him, letting his body envelop you.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the bar, and Andrei orders a drink over the loud bass that reverberates in your ears. It appears moments later - not fair - and then he’s sliding it towards you. You meet his eyes again as he smiles, raising a brow at your silence before he gestures to take it.

“For you,” He says. “Vodka cranberry. I have a feeling you like the fruity drinks, no?”

He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You’re not one for sipping hard, bitter liquor, even if it gets the job done. You’re not sure how you feel about him being able to read you so well, but you do like not having to carry the conversation.

“Am I that transparent?” You grin, though it’s laced with insecurity as you take a sip. It’s good, and helps calm your nerves.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, malyshka. It’s not a bad thing.”

You wouldn’t know it then, but he already began patronizing you the moment you met him. The Russian language is full of double-meanings, and malyshka, little one, is rather mocking. For him to know you so well already was a good thing for him, but for you? Not so much.

Andrei sees right through you, and he has from the very beginning.

“You’re not American, are you?” You change topic, suddenly, using the unfamiliar term he used as an excuse. “Your accent, it’s foreign.”

“Net—no, I’m not. Most of my teammates are out of country.” He replies. “I’m from Russia. Just here to play hockey.”

“Do you like it? Here in Raleigh?” You ask, a pitiful form of small talk to keep this sudden tension at bay.

“I do.” He replies. “I like it a whole lot more now that I’ve met you, though.” And then he’s smiling again, a grin rather feral as he looks at you like you’re his prey waiting to be devoured. He’s incredibly smooth as he puts his hands back on you, one sliding around the circumference of your waist while the other brings your hand holding the drink to his lips, taking a sip from the glass.

Your eyes go half-lidded at the motion, and Andrei knows he has you—hook, line, and sinker. He loves this game, but he thinks he likes you a little bit more than that, too.

Not that he’ll ever admit it.

“You just met me,” You blurt, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

Andrei, to his credit, takes your nervousness in stride. He finds it cute that he has that effect on you. “And I like you,” He counters, flashing a dazzling smile. “You’re cute. Small, like kisa.”

“Kisa?” You try out the unfamiliar word, your attempt at a Russian accent definitely not as sexy as his.

“Kitten,” He translates. “Will you purr for me?” It’s so disgustingly cheesy you can’t help but grimace, and Andrei laughs at the look on your face.

He steps closer, even more than he was before, and the way he looks down on you only makes the difference in height that much more noticeable. He’s so big… Normally you’d feel caged, but with him it feels safe, and that’s probably a red flag you won’t discover until much later.

You struggle finding something to say, but he beats you to it. “I’d like your number, if you’re willing to give it.” And he’s so smooth, so conniving with the way he asks it because he’s not demanding at all, letting you think you have all the power.

“Okay,” You breathe, eyes widening in awe as you don’t even have the chance to pull out your phone before he’s sliding his own into your hands. “You can add your contact.” He instructs, watching you type in your information.

It looks informal, your first and last name in his phone like you’re merely a coworker. You’ll blame it on you being tipsy later, but you add a smiley face at the end of your name, hoping it makes you stand out. You don’t know how many girls he has in his contacts but you’re not naive enough to think you’re the only one.

You lick your lips almost subconsciously as you hand Andrei his phone back, and he zeroes in on the motion. Suddenly, he has the urge to kiss you, and so he does just that. It catches you by surprise, but soon enough you’re melting into him as one large hand cradles your jaw, keeping you tilted up to him.

Andrei tastes like sin, like temptation and all things bad you were told to never get involved in as a kid. A forbidden fruit, perhaps, and there’s even hints of cranberry left on his tongue to cement that fact.

“Andrei…” You hum in surprise as he deepens the kiss, his lips soft and heavenly. It takes everything in you to pull back, to separate yourself from the addicting taste of him. “Wait, I don’t, um—”

You pause. Andrei looks confused, perhaps a little alarmed as his eyes flit over your face. “You don’t… Kiss anyone?”

“No! No,” You lower your voice, not wanting to attract any attention. “Of course I do. I just, I don’t hook up. For fun. Ever.”

He frowns, like he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t enjoy sex with no strings attached.

“Really,” he says, not quite a question. “You’re beautiful, though.” The charm comes back full force as his hand comes to brush away some of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Surely you have suitors, no?”

Your throat tightens, and suddenly your eyes are glassy as he looks at you with so much reassurance and affection. “Maria usually gets the ‘suitors’, not me.”

“I don’t believe that.” He responds immediately, and he looks so sure of himself as his head lowers, his eyes looking back and forth from yours to your lips, and you’re helpless to stop him as the hand moving your hair comes to rest on your cheek.

It’s all very convincing, the sudden care and adoration… You’ve never had a man treat you so delicate, like a prized possession, and you fall for it all too quickly.

“Let me take you out?” He soon asks, and there’s nothing you can really respond with other than yes.

Everything happens so quickly from here. Andrei becomes a centerpiece in your life, and you’re helpless to stop it as you fall for everything about him. You don’t truly become his ‘girlfriend’, but you are something more. Secret dates and midnight drives where no one can see you confirm that.

That’s why you think he’s finally turning serious about you when he shows up to your apartment at the beginning of March a few weeks before his playoffs start. He holds a large bouquet of roses, except your favorite flowers are gardenias because they remind you of your mom so your smile wobbles a little bit, but you let it slide for the romanticism of it all.

Andrei grins, the whites of his teeth blinding and he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. He asks you if you’ll come to his playoff games, wear a WAG jacket and act as if what you are is official. You think you truly mean something to him after this, even though he never actually confirms it.

Suddenly you’re Andrei’s girl (but not really) and it becomes your entire identity. You essentially live with him as the playoffs come around, taking care of his apartment while he’s on the road. He talks of getting a dog over the summer, and you’re enthusiastic in your encouragement because you’ll have a friend to keep you company while he’s on the road.

His injury happens, though, and he’s out for good, at least for the rest of the season. You don’t know how to comfort him because your ‘relationship’ is so new, and it’s hard for you to understand why the anger at himself cuts so deep.

Ultimately, you fix the rough patch with sex. Lots and lots of sex. He works through his frustrations by taking you long, hard, and deep, mostly with him on top holding your throat while you take it like the good girl he tells you you are.

“‘Drei, your leg,” You remember saying to him one time as he slams you onto his bed, rolling directly on top of you. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, too busy laying kisses to your neck.

“I don’t care.” He eventually responds, looking at you so darkly it leaves you shivering. He eats you out afterwards, and, well—you don’t have any more protests after that.

They win the first series against the New York Islanders in six games, and the moment the final goal is scored in overtime you’re jumping out of your seat along with the other WAG’s at one of their houses.

It’s exhilarating, rooting for something with every ounce of your being. You do it for Andrei - who still isn’t playing, but he was there watching - but mostly for yourself because you love the feeling of belonging to a community so close.

The second series ends sooner than the first, a five game victory over the New Jersey Devils, and this time you are at that final game. You sit with Andrei in a private booth at the top of PNC Arena, gripping his arm that also holds onto your thigh with the same amount of intensity.

The moment the final goal is scored - also in overtime - you’re hunching over your seat releasing a long breath. Andrei attempts to rise, then likely remembers his leg which forces him to grip the arms of his chair in strained acceptance.

“They did it,” You hear him whisper, like he can’t believe they actually came out of this series alive. “They did it.” He repeats himself, louder and more confident. You’re still folded over yourself, letting the anxiety drain out of you when he grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together.

“My kisa,” He says, waiting for you to turn your head so he can smile brilliantly at you. “We did it.”

“Not we,” And you grin back, because there’s nothing else for you to do but match his ecstasy. “You did it.”

“I didn’t even play,” Andrei is laughing, soaking in your praise like a sponge. “But I was here, wasn’t I?”

“You mean more to them than you’ll ever know.” More to me than you’ll ever know, you want to say, but hold back on that particular vulnerability.

After he finishes the team meeting in the locker room, you take him back to his house. He still hasn’t been given the all clear to drive, so you’ve taken up caretaker duties along with his mother.

You don’t think she likes you very much, either, but Andrei just says it takes a while for her to warm up to new people. Thankfully, she’s never around when you are though, because as you close the front door to his house he gives you a look equating to a meal he wants to devour.

Andrei seems to forget all about his knee, again, when he moves into you, pushing you back against the front door. “You drive me crazy.” He mumbles into your lips, and you don’t think you’re meant to respond as he moves to your neck.

You wore his jersey tonight, hoping it would bring the team good luck. You also happen to like how possessive he gets when he sees you in his clothes, especially wearing his name. It’s a little ridiculous, but you can’t lie and say you don’t love the attention.

Biting into your jugular, he tastes your rapidly beating heart before moving on, addicted to the sound of the moan that chokes its way out of your throat.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He breathes, massaging his hands into your waist as he pulls you away from the door. “And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Because you’re such a good girl. My good girl.” His raspy voice leaves you holding back a whimper, and it’s hard to speak as he begins to sneak his hands under your jersey.

When you don’t respond because you’re too distracted by his hands, his damn hands, trailing up your ribs, he digs his fingers harshly into your skin. Your eyes snap open to find him almost glaring.

“Yes,” You think he wants to hear you say. “I’m yours.” You babble as his fingers let up, moving to cup your breasts over your bra as he pinches your nipples into hard points.

“That’s right,” He hums almost mockingly, hands now back to your waist as he pulls you after him to the path of his room. “No one else can make you feel like I do, yeah?”

This time he doesn’t expect a response as he pushes his door open, turning you around as you fall into his bed. Your head spins as the jersey you’re wearing rides up and Andrei quickly does the rest, slipping it off you with ease.

“Fuck,” You think he says, but you could care less as his bare hands are back on you, kneading the soft skin of your stomach and trailing back up the length of your torso. “No shirt underneath?”

“It was too hot outside,” You reply, breathless as you attempt to tug his suit and tie off, but that quickly proves to be more difficult. He tsks, thankfully deciding to aid you as he rids himself of his jacket. “You’re lucky that jersey is so thick.” He says, moreso to himself as he begins unbuttoning his slacks.

All that’s left is his undershirt and boxers, meanwhile you’re still left in your bra, jeans, and panties. Andrei must realize this too as he kicks his slacks off somewhere behind him. “Strip,” He commands, but you don’t need the reminder as you’re already one step ahead of him.

Your jeans and panties come off quickly, but it’s harder to remove your bra lying down. You eye the delicious specimen of a man above you, reaching out your hand for his own. “Help me?” You ask, biting your bottom lip before rolling onto your stomach.

Andrei mutters something behind you, but it’s clearly appraisal as the first thing his hands land on is your bare ass. He spends a few moments appreciating the view before his fingers trail up your back, unclipping your bra much quicker than you ever could have.

“You, kisa, are dangerous,” He teases, lowering himself to where his solid chest is pressing down on your back. He loves taking you from behind, tangling his hands in your hair while you’re left to his mercy.

He noses his way past your hair to reach your neck, lightly nipping the skin as you sigh, your head melting to the side so he can continue his ministrations.

“Andrei, please,” You hiss, the wetness between your thighs now too prominent to ignore. You wiggle your hips tantalizingly, hoping to catch his attention.

He grins into your neck, doesn’t respond as he presses a final kiss to your pulse point before pulling back, his right hand sweeping the rest of your hair to the side.

“You need me to touch you?” He asks, smoothing his left hand over your hip before slipping it to the inside of your thighs. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it ever so lightly to feel you flinch with sensitivity underneath him.

You tremble underneath him as he continues stroking you, and your hips jerk upward when two of his fingers slip past your walls and curl. He’s laughing as your ears ring, and already you’re so close to coming when his thumb rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his hand.

Just like everything else about you, though, he knows; he knows and he pulls back before you even have the chance to swear because then the last layer of clothing between you is gone. His boxers are thrown somewhere behind him along with his undershirt, and now he wastes no time pulling your hips up, leaving your chest pressed into the bed.

So used to this familiar position, you look behind you in anticipation to find him stroking his cock, staring at your glistening pussy with barely contained arousal. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, but then he’s sliding his free hand through your soaked lips to gather the wetness there, using it as lubricant.

“Shit,” He says, swearing more to himself before climbing atop you. It’s routine the way he grabs your hair, tangles it in his fingers while the other guides his swollen cock to your entrance. The bulbous head pushes into you with ease, finding no resistance as he sinks into you.

Andrei hisses, mutters something in Russian, then is lowering his head to press his lips to your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight. You just feel so good all the time, you know that, kisa?”

The only sound capable of coming out your mouth is a whimper as you bury your face into the sheets as his hips begin thrusting, hitting your sweet spot with bullseye accuracy each time.

The girth of him stretches you out deliciously, and it leaves your walls clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time with his movements. You mold to him like your body was made for him, like there’s no other way to exist without him taking you in such primal fashion.

Andrei’s head rests in the crook of your neck, murmuring indiscernible phrases while his hands trail up and down your body. His hips rut against your clit each time he thrusts forward, and if anything you get wetter at the thought of him fucking you so callously.

You feel like his most precious belonging sometimes, like an object. It can be disorienting when he talks to you like you’re a child, but when he fucks you it’s like that preciousness he views you with is amplified.

You flinch upward when his cock curves into you just right, and the way he coos into your ear to bring you back down only verifies that thought. He wants to take care of you, always—even if it demeans you.

Andrei suddenly rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him to where you’re the one on top with your back laying against his chest. He sits up, and now you’re in his lap, thighs spread to the side as he once again begins fucking into you.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream as your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the new angle forcing his cock into deeper lengths inside you, and it hurts but it hurts so good and why were you ever questioning how he treats you, again?

How has only one man ever been able to make you feel this good?

Euphoria floods your veins as his hands find purchase on your body, one taking your left tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other sneaks down to the junction of your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing over it mercilessly.

When your stomach starts clenching and your lower spine tingles, Andrei is right back at your ear whispering encouragement. “That’s it, angel,” He praises. “That’s it. You want to come, yeah? Do it. I’ve got you.”

His name leaves your mouth as a breathless whine, and you struggle not to flinch away from his touch when it becomes too much but also not enough, and somehow he knows this and just holds you tighter.

When his cock hits you so deliciously good while his thumb swipes over your clit, you fall. You fall hard, the walls of your cunt seizing around him as ecstasy takes over your body. Sparks fly across your skin, stars filling the empty blackness behind your closed eyes and you think you’re sobbing Andrei’s name but you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is him; his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his teeth on your neck as he approaches his high.

Yours lasts for longer than normal because he doesn’t stop moving—if anything, he goes faster, because the sight and feeling of sending you into a spiral only triggers his own release.

By now you’re motionless, unable to even lift your head as it remains lying against his shoulder. Andrei’s thrusts are frenzied, more sloppy and less precise, until he’s throwing his own back with a long, pleasure-filled groan.

Eventually, he stills. His chest is rising and falling behind you rapidly, attempting to collect himself now that his mind is back in the present. You sigh, quietly yet happy, as his cock softens inside you but doesn’t move, his release slowly trickling down your conjoined bodies.

You suddenly remember that he didn’t lose a condom, but then you remind yourself that you’d stopped using condoms weeks before. You were already on birth control, and he assured you this was exclusive.

You were a fool to believe him.

Andrei soon moves, his hands taking to your hips as he gently lifts you off of him. “I know,” He says when you hiss with sensitivity. “I’ve got you, good girl…” He lays you on your back, and you don’t move from your position even as he leaves the room.

Your eyes soon flutter shut, and you curl to the side as the minutes go by with no sign of return. It’s not regret that fills your mind, no, but another emotion, something stronger than just satisfaction at getting such a pleasurable release.

You don’t dare to think of the world ‘love’, but maybe something similar to that is what you’re feeling?

It doesn’t help that just as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, Andrei comes back to your naked form while he’s now adorned in sweatpants. You merely hum as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you, one of his hands reaching out to trail up your arm. When he reaches your face he brushes away the hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead from cooling sweat, letting your skin breathe.

He says something, so quiet it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your thundering heart, and you don’t have the energy to ask as you finally succumb to exhaustion.

Andrei cleans you up after, dries the inside of your legs and slides one of his t-shirts over you. He tucks you under his sheets and pulls you into his arms, letting your hair tickle his cheeks.

The Eastern Conference Final arrives far quicker than any of you are prepared for, and games one and two against the Florida Panthers are full of anxious nail-biting and frustrated cursing when the puck hits the goal post.

Both games end in overtime losses, and the team has to play games three and four in enemy territory, down by two.

Andrei, understandably, isn’t taking it well. It's hard for the players on the ice, of course, but even harder when he has to sit at the sidelines, hidden in a booth at the top of the arena with you doing your best to comfort him.

“Why can’t they just fucking score?” You remember him hissing before the end of regulation in game two, not angry at his teammates but at the situation instead.

And himself, too, because he is the injured one. He is the one who tore his ACL making it so that he couldn’t play. It isn’t his fault, but it is at the same time and that’s what’s truly getting to him.

As the timer hit zero, he’d leaned back in his chair and grabbed your hand without thought, squeezing your fingers to the point of strangulation.

You let him, though, because at that point you’d let him do anything.

“I’m sorry.” You said, your eyes on him the entire time. It pained you to see him so miserable, and there was nothing you could do to make it better. “This isn’t your fault. It’s… Blame Bobrovsky, okay? He’s just too—”

You interrupted yourself, not wanting to say ‘good’ even if that’s true because you didn’t want to upset him with the implication that his teammates couldn’t be better.

Andrei, to give him credit, didn’t take offense. His eyes were on you the moment you started your ramble, and as you finally paused to gauge the look on his face you found amusement and unbridled affection in his gaze.

“Too good?” He finished your sentence, waiting for your meek nod of confirmation. Merely sighing, he only brought your intertwined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. “You’re right, kisa. He is too good.”

You stay back in Raleigh while the team, including Andrei, takes flight to Sunrise, Florida. Most of the WAG’s stay back too, the majority already anticipating the result of this series.

Hours after the team’s flight, Maria calls you late on the eve of game three.

“Hey, Mare!” You answer, lowering the volume of whatever show is on the television to better hear her. “What’s up?”

“Hey, girl!” She chirps, and you can hear voices in the background so you assume she’s somewhere busy. “Just landed in Florida!”

“You flew to Florida?” You ask, choking slightly. “Since when?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you! The team needed extra people since we’re staying here for longer than a night.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Is all you say because you don’t, in fact, remember, and suddenly feel really guilty about it. You haven’t actually spoken to Maria face-to-face in weeks, having been caught up in everything Andrei-related.

You haven’t talked to lots of people you were close to before Andrei came into the picture, now that you think about it. It’s a problem you’re sure to reflect on when you’re done talking to your friend.

“...bunch of us are going out tonight since the game isn’t until later tomorrow night, including a lot of the team.”

Maria’s voice tunes back in, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts to catch-up. “Really?” You inquire, now suddenly interested. “Is Andrei going with them?”

You could ask him yourself, sure, but you don’t really talk about that stuff, what he does or what you do in your free time. It always felt invasive to ask because you weren’t quite sure if you even had the right to, considering the nature of your relationship.

You doubt he thinks about what you do when you’re not with him, anyway, so you always just assume you can live in the moment with him and have that be good enough.

“Dunno,” She replies. “Can’t you ask him yourself? You’re seeing the man, after all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice at the last sentence.

“Um,” You stall, because no, you can’t just ask. “He just got off the plane, I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mhm,” Maria hums, and you can’t tell if she’s suspicious or not by her tone alone. “True. I’ll just text you if anything interesting happens, okay? Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” You can’t help but laugh at her sudden hastiness, and soon enough she’s hanging up the phone with the claim that the team bus is there to take her to the hotel.

As your call with Maria is in the early afternoon, you have a while to wait before all night life in Florida begins, so any updates will take time to roll in. You know this, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

Distracting yourself by shopping helps, as does meeting up with a few of the WAG’s for a late lunch. You’re able to put your anxiety in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and as the sun sets you pull back up to Andrei’s house and let yourself in with the spare key given to you, mind at peace as you float around his living space in preparation for bed.

You almost considered his place your home now, rather than your actual apartment. You’ve been spending so much time here, with him and also alone as everything with him seems to be going so good… When you settle into his bed, wearing one of Andrei’s large t-shirts and boxers, you check your phone one last time for any updates.

There’s a few Instagram notifications, one or two emails from your university, only one message in the groupchat with the WAG’s, and a text from Andrei which is what you zero in on first.

Settled in the hotel now. Leg is hurting, so I’m going to bed early tonight. Text you tomorrow, okay?

There’s no silly emojis, no indication of any emotion in his text, and yet you read the message with a smile, insecurities officially gone. His teammates are going out tonight, not him, and you don’t have to worry about Maria texting you later because there would be nothing to update you on.

How could you have ever doubted him?

You fall asleep peacefully, unbeknownst to the fact that long after midnight, your phone begins blowing up with silent notifications from Maria. She does, in fact, send you updates of her night out, but not updates you’ll smile at when you wake up the next day.

Sunlight filtered through closed eyes is what has you slowly awakening to the world of consciousness, and you stretch your arms with a yawn before reaching for your phone first thing. It’s hot to the touch, and at first you attribute that to it being stuck under your pillow the entire night, but upon unlocking the screen you discover that that is not the case.

WTF did you and Andrei break up?????

He’s here with the rest of the guys and he’s highkey flirting with some randos???

I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were done w/ him!

You’re prettier than them btw. I snuck a few pics

Several more messages from Maria have taken over your inbox, those are just the first you see. It takes your brain a minute to catch-up, but when it finally does you’re sitting up with bated breath as you tap on one of the images she sent.

It’s definitely Andrei—you’d know his face anywhere. He is, in fact, surrounded by girls in the picture, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous blonde with a drink in his other hand, and it’s so reminiscent of the way he holds you at clubs that you know, you know immediately that this is what you meant to him all along.

The affectionate name-calling, gentle hand-holding and constant touching… You thought he looked back at you like you hung the moon, but now you’re realizing that maybe you were just projecting the reflection of your own starstruck eyes instead.

You sit up in bed, hand pressed to your forehead as a sudden headache rips through your brain. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Remembering that you’re actually in this man’s house, in his clothes, too, has you jumping up like you’ve been burned, and you quickly exit the bedroom to collapse on the couch instead.

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief as you click through more of the images sent to you from last night. There’s no denying to yourself that he was with these women, all while supposedly having a significant other waiting for him at home.

There’s no one to witness the slow breakdown of your sanity, and you can’t even cry because you’re so in shock about what you’re seeing

Is this real? Are you real? Is this really happening?

It’s almost like a switch in your brain goes off, and very quickly you drop your phone. You take a deep breath, you bury your raging emotions, and you stand up from the couch to start your day.

You refuse to allow yourself to break down now. Not when you still haven’t spoken to him. At the very least you’ll wait until you have an explanation…

To confront him on your very strong feelings you’ve been doing your best to ignore until now, because they’re too real in the wake of this discovery to just vanish away like you’ve done before.

You need to know where you stand with him. Truly, because these pictures you can’t stop thinking about? It’s too much. You can’t pretend it doesn’t feel like thousands of little knives stabbing your heart repeatedly even if it all means nothing to him.

Everything goes back to normal. Everything is fine. You never saw those pictures, ignored Maria's continuing calls and acted as if your world wasn’t suddenly tilted on its axis.

Andrei doesn’t text you at all throughout the day, which can probably be attributed to preparation of game three, but all you can think about are the girls he might be texting.

Because he certainly isn’t texting you.

Game three results in a loss, a bad one, and it would pain you to see the reactions on their faces filtered through the television if you weren’t so numb.

He still doesn’t text you. Doesn’t call, either, and Maria eventually gives up on trying to reach you as game four approaches.

The impending doom of Andrei bares down on you like a vice, slowly strangling you in the screaming silence of his house you still remain in. Maybe this is something you should have seen coming because it isn’t the first time he’s gone radio silent, you just assumed he was busy—because that’s what he told you.

You’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have listened.

You love him though, right? That’s why you believed him? That’s what you’re feeling right now, why it’s like you can barely breathe when you think of his smile or the way he’s betrayed you so?

The Panthers sweep the Hurricanes, a complete four-game victory that sends Andrei and the rest of the team licking their wounds all the way back to North Carolina. You don’t watch the fourth game with anyone but yourself and a bottle of wine while catching up on homework for one of your classes.

Becoming so close to Andrei meant you became close to the rest of his teammates too, to the point where you’d consider some of them your good friends, so seeing their faces broadcasted live after the final goal is devastating to see.

Not as devastating as the text you receive, though, in the midst of trying to figure out what to say to him the moment he steps foot inside his house.

I won’t be home tonight, heading straight out with some of the younger guys. I will see you tomorrow

Well. You can’t say you’re surprised. You’re willing to bet money he’s out sleeping with some random girl whose name he won’t remember the next day. Instead of letting the anxiety take over, anger takes its place instead.

And boy do you run with it because anger is so much better than feeling powerless. It simmers in your blood, a wildfire settling low in your stomach until you’re practically shaking while waiting for Andrei to walk through the front door the next day.

When he finally does, you’re so mad you’re numb. Your anger has turned you into a ghost, an attempt at protecting your fragile heart from more heartbreak likely to fall upon you the moment he tries to charm you back into his good graces.

Once he spots you sitting on the couch, he smiles in greeting. It’s soft, and you’d like to say affectionate, but you no longer can tell how deep his feelings run for you.

Clearly, not deep enough.

“Kisa,” He says. “How are you? I’m sorry I was out late.”

“It’s fine,” You respond tightly. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice, merely nods before walking past you to the kitchen. You follow him silently, trying to figure out how to phrase your next words.

You end up settling on a subtle approach. “I’m sorry about the games… I know it must’ve sucked having to watch.”

He scoffs immediately, mutters something you don’t catch but still doesn’t turn around to face you as he rummages through his fridge. “It definitely was not fun to sit there, no.” He replies.

“Is that why you didn’t come back last night? You were coping with the loss?” You’re hoping your strong reference to his late-night escapades will spark something in him, but alas you still seem to be wrong and all he does is cast you a furtive glance before going back to his business.

God, you were just going to have to wring this out of him, weren’t you?

“Andrei,” You start, taking a deep breath. He still doesn’t stir. “Andrei, I know.”

Finally, he stops. Pauses mid-motion of whatever he’s doing, and his shoulders seem to tense in preparation of your foreboding words.

“There’s other girls, right? It’s not just me?” Your voice is already wobbling, and you’re glad he’s still refusing to face you because your eyes are slowly filling with tears, the agony of these last few days catching up to you.

This is when Andrei finally turns around. He meets your eyes last after scanning up and down your body; the clothes you’re wearing that aren’t his, your nails digging into your hands, and finally the bright flush of your face as you struggle not to explode.

“What do you mean?” Is what he says, looking at you calculatingly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘Drei,” You whisper, invisible wires constricting around your throat as you force yourself to continue speaking. “Maria told me. She saw you. And you lied to me.”

Andrei doesn’t speak. He just stares, fingers clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide if he should approach you or not. After what seems like hours of silent battle, he replies, starting out by saying your name like a warning. “She… Maria had no right to tell you that.”

“Because I’m not actually your girlfriend, right?” Your response is immediate, and it hurts him if the flinch on his face is anything to go by. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a title, responsibility. You never promised me any of that so sleeping with other girls is perfectly okay.”

Everything you’re saying is true but it’s all wrong the way you’re looking at each other. Tears are now openly streaming down your cheeks and Andrei hasn’t moved since the moment you opened your mouth.

“Nothing to say?” It’s defeated, your entire demeanor as your shoulders sag and you fight the urge to collapse. “Yeah. I—I wouldn’t know what to say either.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei whispers, and he doesn’t fight you which makes it all the more devastating. Everything you’re saying is true and it’s still all so wrong but he isn’t fighting you and wow, you’re really about to lose him, aren’t you?

“I think the worst part of this for me is that I actually let myself fall in love with you.” It’s your last-ditch effort of getting something out of him, anything that proves this isn’t completely one-sided on your end.

Andrei looks gutted at that. But he steels his resolve, his eyes go cold and he clenches his jaw as you try, one last time, to reach him.

“Do you love me?”

He’s staring at the wall behind you. No words fall from the lips you’ve kissed a thousand times until they finally do, and this is when you come to the realization that you’re ruined. You won’t ever look at another man the same because Andrei will forever haunt you in everything that you are and what you do.

“No. I don’t.”

You don’t put up much of a fight after that. You wave your white flag and slip past him to grab the small bag you’d packed earlier in preparation.

Andrei doesn’t move from his spot in the kitchen once. His face is tight, eyes dark and anguished as you drop his spare key on the counter. You look at him one last time, will him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.

He never does—so you leave and you don’t look back.

It hurts worse because there really wasn’t a fight. There was no screaming, breaking glass, hurling insults at each other; it was a quiet acceptance of the end of a relationship that had no chance of lasting.

That’s what gets you. Not just because it’s over, but because he doesn’t love you like you love him.

You can’t believe you let yourself fall for it.

When you finally make it back to your apartment it feels like walking into an alternate reality, especially after an agonizing drive back full of nothing but silence and your thoughts.

You’ve practically lived with Andrei the last few months so much that you’ve forgotten you had a life before him. Maria comes to your mind immediately at that thought, and you can’t think of anything else you need more right now than your best friend.

Her phone only rings twice before she picks up. She says your name warily, likely because she hasn’t heard a word from you in two days.

“Hey,” You whimper, and you hate that you can tell how broken you sound. “Um, you were right. About Andrei. I… Talked to him about it. We’re done.”

There’s silence on the other end for several moments. Then:

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over, and I’m bringing the fattest bottle of wine known to man, okay?”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears.

“Don’t respond, you can’t say no. I’ll see you in a few!”

And, well, you do nothing but let her hang up as you stare at your blank lock screen for a minute. Something possesses you to try and freshen up even though it’s just Maria, so you make your way to your bathroom.

Opening the door, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, your tear-stained eyes the same color red as the lipstick you wore the first time you met him. The same red of your heart, too, as you feel the shattering of it now more than ever.

It all goes back to him. Everything about you, your identity as ‘his girl’ reducing you to someone who doesn’t exist without him.

Fuck you, Andrei, you want to yell. Fuck you and fuck everything you put me through.

As you furiously rub your eyes, you realize you don’t know who you are anymore. You let yourself be molded into an unfamiliar version of yourself, into someone just for Andrei to want to keep around.

The tears start again, and you’re left sniffling in the suffocating silence of your bathroom. The only person who knew you, the you now, is gone.

And suddenly, you find yourself alone.

Well… Not totally alone. “Fuck him!” Maria shouts after she breaks into your apartment (she has your spare key) after you’d collapsed onto your couch and refused to open the door. “Seriously, fuck him. You’re way too good for him.”

“Weren’t you the one who convinced me to sleep with him in the first place?” Is your weak rebuttal, muffled and almost imperceptible as your head is burrowed in a pillow.

Your friend tsks, likely waving her arms around in that expressive way she does. “Yes, well. I never claimed to see the future. But now we know him for the piece of shit he is!”

Maria is your closest friend, yes, but you also know her to be someone who tells you what you want to hear. Right now, you’re feeling vengeful and angry, so she’s feeding into those emotions to make you feel better.

You know, in two months time or however long it takes you to process this, when you start missing him and tiptoe around the idea of calling him, she’ll support you then, too.

Which probably isn’t what you need, but, whatever. You’re just grateful you have someone on your side.

“I need…” You start, not quite sure how to phrase what you’re wanting. “I need to forget.”

“A one nightstand type of forget or get so drunk you pass out type of forget?”

You wrinkle your nose at the thought of sleeping with someone so soon. As much as you hate it, you don’t think you’ll ever stop craving Andrei’s body.

No man ever could make you feel that good…

“Get drunk,” You say, quirking a small smile at the whoop she lets out. “I can’t fuck someone right now. At least not yet.”

“Yeah,” The blonde agrees, sighing almost wistfully. “I’d feel the same if I knew what his dick felt like.”

“Maria!” You shriek, throwing a spare pillow as hard as you can her way. It misses, but does the job of lightening the mood and keeps you giggling the rest of the night.

She does her job in making you forget, though. Makes you put on one of your shortest dresses and gets you drink after drink until you’re hunched over a toilet in the back of some bar gagging your stomach out.

You wake up the next day with the worst hangover ever, but Maria is fairing the same and somehow you consider it worth it. Maybe you can live your life again without him.

You’ve done it before, right?

And really, it’s ridiculous when you let yourself think about how you’d only been seeing the man for five months and he completely managed to send your world careening in that timespan. So, you don’t let yourself think about it. Instead, you live.

For yourself, for your friends, for your heart that won’t ever be full but feels a little bit better every time you wake up each day without Andrei next to you.

You graduate university with your bachelor’s and get a job that’s even better than your last, and you make a really good group of friends at said-job without Maria’s help (though she’ll always be your best). The summer passes by with melancholy laughter and gentle healing, and while your first love always remains in the back of your mind, you think about him less.

So much less that you lose track of time, not even realizing that October of twenty twenty-three is here and the NHL season is starting back up. You haven’t spoken to any of the WAG’s since you broke it off with Andrei, assuming you would no longer be welcome in the ‘clique’ and preferring to separate yourself from a group associated with someone who brought you so much pain, so there haven’t been any reminders about the new season from them.

The memories of him are fleeting. They’ll come to you at random times, and now that you’ve lived in the past yet again, you can forget about the end where Andrei is a distant thought but every time his name is brought up it squeezes your heart so much you can’t breathe.

You’re doing better. Truly, you are. You’d stopped crying over him long ago, and you might have gone to class with swollen eyes and showed up to work despondent, but you’re working through it in your own way. Healing isn’t linear but you’re making progress slowly but surely.

One day, you wake up with a sudden determination to officially ‘get back out there’, per Maria’s words. There’s nothing spectacular about this day; it’s only mid-November, the weather in that awkward stage of autumn morphing into winter.

Maybe it’s because the night before you’d succumbed to the urge to search up the Hurricanes’ schedule, curious to when they’d be home and not.

It’s only a coincidence that they have a home game when you call your friends from work, asking if they’d like to go out after everyone gets off. It’s also a coincidence when you meet someone at said-bar you attend, and it’s absolutely insane how if you squint he kind of looks like Andrei.

Oh, but he’s so, so sweet… His name is Jack and he buys you and your friends drinks, keeps a respectful distance yet never strays far when you’re wrapped into another conversation. He asks for your number at the end of the night and you give it to him without hesitation, taking note of the way he creates your contact in his phone himself.

“You like cats?” He asks as he’s still typing away, and your breath catches in your throat because it’s a question that makes you think of the first night you met him. When you don’t respond, he gestures towards your keychain attached to the strap of your handbag.

“You have little kittens on your keychain. I think that’s what I’ll add to your name, yeah?” Jack laughs a little shyly, and it’s cute but you keep replaying kisa in your mind over and over in a Russian accent you never could quite imitate.

“Yeah, I do like cats,” You say, flushing at the sudden amusement in his eyes. “I like them a lot.”

Jack doesn’t waste any time texting you the next day, and the normalcy of it freaks you out a little. Where’s the anxiety? The stomach-dropping nerves that come with talking to someone new? The constant wondering if they like you or not?

It’s so safe and secure that it hurts, because it was never like that before.

Everyone in your life is so supportive, though, but that only makes it worse because they can see how good this man is for you, but why can’t you? You feel like pulling your hair out when he texts you good morning and goodnight and sick to your stomach when he shows up during your lunch break with flowers.

However, there’s no one is more enthusiastic about Jack's new presence in your life than Maria.

“He’s a dream guy, honestly,” She swoons, kicking her feet back on her ottoman. “You’re so lucky. I would kill for a guy I met at a bar to be so smitten with me he shows up to my job with flowers.”

You hum in agreement, unable to come up with something to say. “He… Yeah, it’s nice, I guess.”

The blonde eyes you from where you’re curled up on her couch, deliberately avoiding her stare as you mindlessly watch whatever is on the TV. “You guess? He’s perfect!”

“On paper,” You retort, huffing slightly in frustration at yourself because why can’t you see what everyone else sees? “I don’t really know him.”

“Yet. You don’t really know him yet.” She helpfully points out. “Why don’t you want to give him a chance?”

“I… I do. I am giving him a chance. Maybe I’m just not feeling it.”

“He’s not Andrei, babe.”

You fight the powerful urge to scoff. I know, you want to scream. I know. That’s the problem.

Jack is too perfect for you. You want the ups and downs, the electrifying chemistry, the undeniable connection you’ve felt with no one else before. You crave the feeling of those past five months, of being with someone who lit you up to your very core.

It’s been almost eight months and you still can’t get him out of your head.

You give Jack a rightful chance, though, like everyone in your life is begging you to. You can’t bring yourself to end it because there really is nothing wrong, it’s a perfect getting-to-know-you stage which checks off all the boxes. It’s just that you don’t want normal because normal is boring.

You want chaos. And Andrei is chaos personified.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria is still very good friends with a lot of the WAG’s and talks about you when they ask. They miss you, it turns out, but your friend never tells you this in fear of sending you into a depressive spiral that tends to happen when they’re brought up. They’re ecstatic to hear that your life seems to be going so well after the breakup, especially after seeing Andrei’s reaction to it all.

This is something Maria doesn’t tell you, either. She’s such a good friend, protecting your heart like that. Andrei did not come out of his house after you ended it the same person; he was a little darker, a little angrier, frustrated in a way that suggested nothing could be done to fix it.

It doesn’t help that he couldn’t take it out by playing hockey, because he wasn’t cleared to play until the end of October, a month into the regular season.

He never admits his sour mood is partly to blame you for. Not that it’s your fault—he’s the one who fucked up, not you.

Never you.

Maria knows all of this and still gives him the cold shoulder for his treatment of you. None of the girls were very happy after finding out while his teammates just gave him awkward pats on the back. It doesn’t stop him from finding out about you, though, and what you’re up to.

The WAG’s talk. They’re gossip machines, and while normally he hates them for it because he always has to watch what he says around them, this time he’s thankful because they tell their husbands and boyfriends everything.

He’s at Martin and his girlfriend, Nykki’s, apartment watching their cavapoo, Gigi, when he finds out you’re seeing someone new. They’re heatedly talking about something when they walk in and don’t see him on the floor cuddling Gigi, so he doesn’t interrupt.

“I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow. It certainly took her a while to move on, didn’t it?”

He hears a smack, assumes Nykki has hit him on the arm like she typically does when he pisses her off. “She loved him, of course it took time!”

“Ow!” He hisses, though it’s clearly in jest. “Well, yeah, but like… It’s been months. And it’s not like she’s in contact with any of us anymore to remind her of him.” Andrei notes the sourness in his teammate’s voice, feels his heart drop because he thinks he knows who they’re talking about, now.

“Still,” Nykki replies. “I was so sad after my first heartbreak. They take a while to heal from, especially when it’s not a clean ending. It’s no secret how Andrei treated her.” She’s frowning when she continues. “I wish I could give her a hug, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to see any of us, either.”

Martin sighs. “I get it, too. I sure do miss the wine she’d bring though. She had the best fucking taste, ever.”

“Of course you only miss her for her alcohol.”

Andrei decides to clear his throat at this moment. When he does so, Martin and Nykki whip their heads towards him on the floor, surprise and guilt decorating their faces when they see him holding Gigi rather dejectedly.

He starts by saying your name, even surprises himself when it comes out biting and, dare he say it… Jealous? “She’s seeing someone?”

Martin and Nykki share a glance. Gigi chooses this as the time to leap up from his lap and run towards her parents where Martin happily picks her up. “I’m going to go take her out. Thanks for watching, ‘Drei!” He quickly flees the apartment, and Nykki says something under her breath as she glares after him.

They both know Andrei isn’t letting this go.

“Do you remember Maria, her friend? Works in the Hurricanes’ marketing department?” She eventually says, joining him on the floor.

“The blonde one? Yes,” He replies, and even though there are many blondes working for the team he knows exactly who she’s talking about. She’s your best friend, after all, and he knows everything about you.

Like how he knows you will never get over him. Conceited? Yes, but he had (has) you wrapped around his finger.

“Well, she talks to a lot of us still, despite everything that happened. And she tells us things.” Nykki pauses, almost like she’s scared to go on.

“Things like?” Andrei inquires. “How she is doing? Who she is doing?”

She glares at him then, eyes narrowing into slits. “Not that you really have a right to know, but yes.”

His fingers dig into his palms and his jaw cramps with how much he’s trying to keep from exploding.

“So, she’s seeing some guy now?” He scoffs like the very idea is incredulous. As if whatever pathetic excuse of a man you’re talking to could ever compare to him.

“She has a right to move on, Andrei. You should too. You ruined her.”

That fact remains true, but he still has no desire to ever let you go as he deliberately ignores her advice, well-meaning as it is.

How ruined could you really be if you’re already with somebody else?

Unfortunately, it’s impossible to run into you because you avoid him like the plague. You know everywhere he and his teammates frequent so you stopped showing up long ago, and he’s pretty sure you keep a several hundred-foot radius between you and PNC Arena at all times. He doesn’t blame you, but it pisses him off to know he can’t easily find you.

Christmas passes, you spend it with Jack and Andrei spends it with his Russian teammates. The New Year arrives just as quickly, and as he locks lips with some random girl at the party he’s at he thinks of you. Wonders who you’re with, if you’re kissing that guy Nykki told him about.

You actually flew back home to spend it with your parents, giving Jack some weak excuse about how you weren’t able to see them over the holidays.

North Carolina winter is in full force as February of twenty twenty-four rolls around, and your life remains inexplicably boring while Andrei’s picks up. The Hurricanes are finally having a redemption arc after their awful first-half of the season, and thus are heading out to celebrate far more often than normal.

They’re more daring in where they choose to go, too, wanting to branch out of their norms, because why not?

This is really unfortunate for you. Horrifying, actually, because you’re out with your friends, Jack, and his friends too when the team comes strolling in. Eyes instantly shoot their way, aweing at the miniature celebrities in their own right for finally bringing a good professional sports team to NC.

The moment Andrei steps foot in the establishment you know. Your skin catches fire, your ears ring, and your heart thunders inside your chest because only man can set off your senses so powerfully.

You look away from Jack - who thankfully doesn’t notice, he’s sucked into a conversation with one of his friends - and find Andrei approaching the bar with Martin and Seth. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you try to keep that from happening as you sink down into your seat, flashing your friends an exaggerated smile when they eye you curiously.

You’re unable to hide for long, though, when a song bursts from the speakers and sends everyone into an excited frenzy, your group included as they crowd the dance.

Luckily you’re able to escape that particular rally and wave Jack off when he asks you if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” You shout over the bass rattling your eardrums. “Just letting my drink settle a bit.”

He doesn’t question you, merely nods and smiles before disappearing somewhere with his friends. Now, you’re alone, and you can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing because now you have a perfect view of Andrei and his teammates leaning against the bar, looking far too good as they do so.

You can’t keep your eyes off him. You never could, especially can’t now as you soak up every little change your eyes can see. He has a scruff now, a sexy five o’clock shadow that you know firsthand how it feels between your thighs. His hair is a little longer, too—you wonder if it’s still as soft as you remember.

Jack suddenly appears from a break in the crowd and oh, yeah, fuck you can’t be thinking about your ex like this, can you? No, you aren’t officially with Jack, but it’s still wrong. He likes you so much, you know this, and you… Don’t hate him?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bemoan to yourself, torn between the angel on your left and the devil on your right that don’t give you the chance to decide because you feel eyes baring into your skull, begging you to notice them. Your entire being freezes, stuck in between some weird limbo as you lock eyes with Andrei for the first time in months.

There’s no one else but you and him as neither one of you refuses to break first, and you only lose eye contact when a group of people walks between you. When they’re gone and you’re able to freely look again, you realize he’s gone from his spot at the bar. All his teammates are still there, and they’ve now spotted you too.

Would it be wrong to call an uber and just tell Jack you felt sick?

Your name is suddenly being whispered into your ear, and you would have flinched if the sound of his voice didn’t have you relaxing back into your seat. You refuse to look up at first, because if you look at him so close to you again you’ll fold.

“Andrei,” You greet, quietly. “How are you?” You still aren’t looking at him, choosing to swirl around the drink in your hand instead.

“I’m good,” He replies, so close you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You lean into it almost subconsciously until he’s sliding into the booth next to you, pressing the two of you together. “How are you, my kisa?”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You retort, finally meeting his eyes to cast him a withering glare.

“No?” Andrei reaches a hand up to brush some stray hairs from your face. So delicate his touch, he trails his hand down your cheek, your neck, and down your waist until landing on your thigh. You don’t stop him, either.

“That’s funny. I could have sworn that you’re mine.”

“I’m not,” You squirm under his touch, unable to push him away. “I haven’t been in months. Wasn’t ever ‘yours’ to begin with. You made sure of that.”

Andrei doesn’t appreciate the call out. The way his face twists is mean and you know whatever he’s going to say will hurt. “Right,” He scoffs, is snide with the way he tones it. “But you’re his?”

He gestures towards Jack, who thankfully is enraptured in a tense game of pool on the other side of the room. You don’t question how he already knows that’s who you’re with.

“I’m not anyone’s, Andrei.”

“Yes you are. You might have thought that because we haven’t seen each other we are just over?” He leans into you, doesn’t let you break eye contact as he gets so close your noses touch. “No. I bet me being so close to you right now has you soaked, and you want to know how I know that?”

Your throat is tight as you swallow. You can’t look away as you move to shake your head, but strange, because it comes out as a nod instead.

“You’re not ‘over me’, malyshka. You’ll never be over me. You love me.”

His grin is feral, his words biting as they cut through you at such a vulnerable level it has you flinching back from his touch immediately.

“Oh, fuck you, Andrei,” You hiss, an angry sheen of tears starting to gloss over your eyes. “Fuck you. I don’t love you anymore—especially not now.”

You move to slip around him but his arm shoots out and stops you in your tracks, leaving you frozen as he stands to tower over you.

“Careful,” He murmurs. “Your boy over there might think something’s wrong. Maybe I should introduce myself, make sure he knows I would never dare hurt you.”

“You don’t have to touch me to hurt me. You did that plenty without having to lift a finger.” You retort. “Now, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“But what if I want to talk to you?” You really hate the height difference between the two of you right now because it takes no effort at all for him to slide a muscular arm around your waist and keep you glued to his side. “Maybe I have missed you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” You mutter, but he ignores you as he begins to lead you away from the booth you were in before. “My friends will wonder where I am if I’m not at the booth when they get back.”

“Not worried about your boy?” He mocks, noting the way you don’t mention Jack at all. “They won’t have enough time to notice.”

You narrow your eyes at his insinuating words as he stops at the bar, waving down the bartender who comes immediately. “His name is Jack.” You mutter, thinking he can’t hear you. He continues talking, ignoring you, and you’re unable to hear him over the noise so you don’t bother trying to understand what he’s asking for.

Soon enough there’s a drink sliding across the bar counter and Andrei pushes it in front of you. You eye the glass, making note of the fact that the liquid is red. “Vodka cranberry,” He confirms what you’re already thinking.

You flash back to the night you first met and suddenly you want nothing to do with the drink in front of you. “No thanks, I don’t want it.” You say, trying to step away.

You don’t get far, though, because he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you rather harshly back to him. “Drink it,” He demands, watches your eyes and the way they dart from his face and back to the glass nervously. He sighs, then, like he’s realized something and lets go of your wrist only to land back on your hip. “It’s… Nothing is wrong with it. I didn’t touch it.”

He thinks you’re worried about being drugged? You almost laugh but manage to hold it back, because of course he doesn’t remember that this is the first drink he ever got you.

Your heart beats a little faster as you concede, finally picking up the drink and taking a tiny sip. He waits for your reaction like he’s the one who made it. “It’s good,” You finally say, licking the sweetness from your lips.

Andrei watches you, your eyes, your lips, everything about as time seems to stop and it’s just you and him, like it’s supposed to be.

You haven’t changed all that much, and you can tell he likes that. Your hair is a little shorter, you’re perhaps a little thinner now that you’re not on a college student diet, but you’re still you.

Andrei hasn’t changed either. You’re the same yet so different, and it’s incredibly difficult resisting the temptation to fall back into old habits.

“I’ve missed you,” He admits quietly, and you think it’s sincere this time. You wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t standing so close together.

Your heart thunders in your chest. You might be sweating out of nerves, or maybe it’s just the club. Your hands itch to touch him, and with more alcohol in you thanks to the cranberry you don’t stop Andrei as he succumbs to his urges first and uses one, large hand to cup your cheek.

You shudder as he caresses the skin, his thumb landing on your bottom lip and stroking it lightly. “Andrei,” You breathe, pupils blown wide. “You can’t—we can’t…”

He tilts his head, reminiscent of a dog. “Why not? You are not single?” He has you. He knows you know he does. You aren’t nearly as committed to Jack as much as you’d like yourself to be.

“I can’t do that to him,” You try weakly, already feeling your will bending to the persuasiveness of his touch.

His head lowers, hand remaining on your cheek as he brushes your lips together. You crave it, you realize, and move to fully push your mouths together but he’s pulling back before you get the chance.

“Go to the bathroom.” He says. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Will you?” You ask, the double-meaning clear as you stare at each other, neither willing to break.

Andrei’s face is unreadable. You can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing as his hands land on your hips and he turns you around in the direction of the restrooms. “Go,” He taps your ass, nudging you forward. “I’ll be there.”

You give in this time. You’re aware of the astronomically bad decision you’re making as you cut the line, faking a sick stomach and whispering ‘sorry’ over and over again in your head as the nice ladies let you through.

When you close the door you immediately make your way to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, and with mussed hair and smudged lipstick you should be feeling ashamed.

All you feel is anticipation, though. For Andrei’s hands on your body, for his mouth to kiss all the spots he’s missed.

Several minutes go by and the knocks on the bathroom door become more frequent. You think he’s bailed on you - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time - but then you hear his voice outside.

“Da, yes, she’s in there,” A pause. “She’s my girlfriend, she needs me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, turning to face the door as he knocks and can hear his voice more clearly.

Yes, you do need him.

“Kisa,” He says, slightly muffled but you feel the effect he has on you is all the same. “I’m here. Let me in?” He’s almost begging, and you quickly unlock the door as he pushes through.

His smile is mischievous as he closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He purposefully raises his voice, shows faux concern and plays it up in case anyone is listening outside.

“You’re so dramatic,” You say, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt. Now that you’re alone you don’t bother pretending you don’t want him as much as you do. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Andrei relents immediately, closing the distance between the two of you. Both his hands come up to the sides of your head to keep you in place, tilting you in whatever way he likes. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and your bodies move together like they were never apart.

He’s demanding as he begins pushing you back, crowding you against the tiny bathroom wall. His words from outside come back to you suddenly, and you break the kiss to catch a breath as his lips begin a trail across your cheeks. “Girlfriend?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I had to get them to let me through somehow.” It’s not what you want to hear but you lose the urge to fight him on it as he reaches your neck and begins sucking little hickeys onto the sensitive skin. Your head falls back with a sigh, uncaring of your hair catching whatever germs might lie on the wall.

You let Andrei do what he wants to your neck for a few moments, then when the urge to taste his lips comes again you grab the back of his hair and pull him up to you. He goes willingly, and you moan into his mouth as he continues to push back against you so hard you can feel his dick through his jeans.

He pulls back much too soon for your taste, and you try to follow but suddenly one of the hands holding your head comes down to wrap around your throat, restricting your breath as he pushes you back. You go to speak, but his other hand is leaving your face to unbutton his jeans one-handed.

You watch, eyes heavy-lidded. “‘Drei?” The weight on your neck is comfortable, so you don’t bother moving as he shoves the rest of his jeans along with his boxers down his thick thighs.

“You want to talk to other guys?” He starts with a bite. “Then you can remember the taste of my cock in your mouth while you do it.”

Your blood pressure skyrockets as the hand on your throat leaves to pull your hair back out of your face, grasps it like a rope, and pushes you down to your knees.

You’re at eye-level with his cock as it bobs in front of you, angry and swollen with beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stares down at you expectantly, has to hold back a groan at your wide-eyed gaze looking so innocent.

As your lips wrap around his tip he’s reminded of the fact that no, you are not innocent. He made you that way. Fucked you like no man ever could. Ruined you for everyone but him. His feelings for you are complicated, but he does understand one thing…

Andrei doesn’t want you, not really. But he hates to think about you with somebody else.

Your tongue is masterful in its work as it swirls around his head, and once you get comfortable you begin going down. His head falls back and this time he doesn’t hold back his noises as your warm, wet mouth envelopes him.

“Missed this mouth,” He grunts as you suck. “Like it much better when you can’t speak.”

It’s insulting and degrading, yet it doesn’t fail to turn you on as you squirm and rub your thighs together in hopes it’ll give you the friction you need.

His hand in your hair soon starts pulling, sliding your mouth forward and back in increasing motions as he gets closer. He’s unabashedly groaning now, and you can see his abs clench when you suck a certain way.

Suddenly, you have the urge to have him fall apart before you. Maybe it’s revenge, wanting to see him lose control for you like you’ve done for him so many times; you tilt your head, using your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock and that has him jerking into you.

“Fuck,” He hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” The praise goes directly to your clit, and you whimper as it throbs with no relief.

Despite being apart for almost a year, you still know what every twitch of his body means. You know he’s close because the hand in your hair is gripping you tighter, you can feel the steadily increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his pulsing cock, and his thighs are ever so slightly trembling underneath your hands.

You want him to come in your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more; your efforts increase and you dig your nails into his skin to hear him hiss and as his thrusts pick up he starts hitting the back of your throat.

Internally thanking your lacking gag reflex, you don’t flinch as he picks up speed, now blatantly using your mouth for his own pleasure with little regard for your comfort. “Shit, baby,” He blurts, desperate. “I’m gonna cum.” You hum in response, the vibrations of the sound finally throwing him over the edge.

Andrei throws his head back for a final time, one long groan emulating from his unfairly sculpted chest as his cum hits the back of your throat. You’ve always loved the taste of him and this time is no different as you suck him deeper, not wanting to waste a drop.

He takes a few moments to collect himself and in that timeframe your ears slowly stop ringing and you come back to reality, finding that your knees ache from being pressed into the floor and there are loud voices coming from outside the bathroom door.

As you move to stand, he too seems to remember where you’re at and uses both arms to pull you the rest of the way until you’re back to standing. You swipe your hair out of your face as his thumb comes to your lip, wiping away a stray drop of his release.

Despite the post-orgasmic clarity, he looks at you with softness and something else swimming in his dark eyes. “You’re still good at that,” He states. “Been sucking anyone else off?” His words are quiet but every bit threatening as you note the possessiveness in his tone.

“No,” You gasp as his thumb pushes its way into your mouth. “Just you. Only you,”

“That’s right,” He says. “Just me. Only me.” Then he’s spinning you around, fingers remaining pressed into your mouth while the other trails up your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. “Hear them outside?” He asks.

The ‘them’ he’s referring to, you realize, are the voices outside the bathroom. They’re much louder now, a few knocks mixed in, and you wonder with slight panic how a manager hasn’t come to unlock the door yet.

“They sound very angry, don’t they?” That same hand on the back of your neck strokes your skin, slowly working its way down to your waistband. “So we better make it quick. Hands on the wall, kisa,”

You know the moment he pulls down your pants he’ll find you to be unabashedly soaking. Despite claiming to be in a hurry, he takes his time working open the button of your jeans, grazing the skin above your panties before ever so slowly sliding them down your legs.

“Andrei,” You hiss, impatient. “Hurry up!” As the hand in your mouth retreats, you realize you’re both needy and nervous, an overwhelming combination.

He only laughs. “Someone is needy,” He mocks, holding your hips in place when you try wiggling against him. “Patience.” Leaning into your ear he murmurs this, staying this way as he fully slides your jeans past your knees.

Andrei sneaks his hand in between your thighs, something resembling a growl rumbling from his chest when his fingers find your dripping folds, feeling how you throb for him. “Missed this pussy even more,” He breathes, lubricating his fingers with your slick before slowly circling your clit. Your arms shake from where they hold you up and it’s a battle to keep yourself from collapsing.

“You are just made for me, aren’t you?”

You’re so wet you practically suck him in as he guides his dick to your entrance, and he wastes no preamble as he pushes in. If he thought your mouth was heaven after so much time apart, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him in so deep doesn’t even compare. His hands are digging into your hips as he ruts into you fully with one thrust, panting as your warmth contracts around him.

“Still so fucking tight,” He marvels like he can’t believe it, like it’s a dream you feel even better than when he replays the memories of you on repeat. “You been waiting for me?” He’s not expecting a response as his rhythm picks up, finding a familiar pace for the both of you that has him swearing under his breath and you struggling not to shout your pleasure to the rooftops.

“God,” You cry out when the head of his cock directly hits your g-spot, your hips jerking up so hard you would have fallen if it weren’t for Andrei holding you up. “Fuck, Andrei, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Andrei laughs, a sound that would have been more menacing if he also wasn’t gasping for air. “Already?” He mocks. “I barely touched you, baby,”

You don’t have to touch me, it’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to be blurted out. You don’t have to touch me for me to be on my knees for you. The words are ready, but instead all that comes out is a moan and maybe that’s for the best because he probably wouldn’t respond as well as he does in your dreams.

He’s unaware of your internal dilemma as he leans over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back. “Gotta be fast,” He reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. “You ready?”

“No, I—I can’t,” Because you don’t want this to be over. You don’t want to cum because he’ll follow you right after and then when clarity hits he’ll leave you again and you’ll be back to square one.

“Yes, you can” He croons. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, I’m right here.” You want to sob as one of his hands leaves your hip and finds the junction of your bodies, gentle fingers prodding your pussy spread-wide around him until he finds your clit and rubs.

Your body is trembling and you can’t tell if you’re trying to move towards him or away, but it doesn’t matter anyways because he has you trapped between the wall and his body and the unrelenting pace of his hips slamming into you.

You have a sudden urge to look him in the eyes before you come undone by his cock and his fingers, so you crane your head to the side and watch him watch you. His hair is damp from sweat at the corners of his hairline, his lips slightly open as he pants and you think you spot him lick his lips when he catches you staring. You go to say something but he swoops down, catching your mouth with his own and promptly shuts you up.

Andrei doesn’t relent in his motions despite the uncomfortable position, not letting you break from his lips by removing his hand at your hip and gripping your face to keep you right here. He owns you, at this point, mind, body, and soul as your lungs beg for breath while your clit throbs beneath his fingers and oh, oh, there it is and you’re gone—

You feel the rough pads of his fingers bullying your clit but you don’t really focus on it until now, how the calloused ridges carelessly sweep over you with no semblance of relief and only when you body abruptly freezes does he part from you, but only slightly, leaving a hair’s width of space between your lips. “Beautiful,” He says, under his breath so quietly you don’t hear him as your bones catch fire and your brain short-circuits.

Heat sears you from the inside-out and you do nothing but endure as Andrei rocks you through it. There’s tears of ecstasy streaming down your face, you’re sure of it now, and you think he’s wiping them from your cheeks but you can’t open your eyes enough to check.

It takes a few minutes, but once your heart stops racing you can hear your favorite voice swearing behind you and only then do you comprehend him still moving inside you, but before you can whine at the sensitivity he’s stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.

You don’t dare speak first, nor are you the first to move. The air around you is stagnant with tension as you rest your head on your arms, breathing deeply to catch your breath. What does this mean? You’re spiraling already and it’s only been minutes since your desperate fuck in this bathroom.

Eventually, Andrei moves first. He slides his softened dick from you with a hiss and you feel his cum trickling out without him there to keep it plugged in. Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of having to walk around with wet inner thighs now, you slowly stand up as his hands fall from your body. You slide your panties and jeans back up the rest of your legs, ignoring the uncomfortable sensitivity of being covered once again.

Neither of you speaks a word. You want to cry suddenly, and this time not from pleasure. “What did we just do?” You manage to choke out, your voice so hoarse you have to clear it. He’s clearly planning on just leaving without a word but you’re not going to let him.

You stare at him expectantly. He’s turned around so all you have in your view is his slide profile, clearly struggling with what to say as his jaw clenches tightly.

“Nothing,” He finally says, and he might as well just fucking stab you in the back. “We did nothing. You’re going to go back out there and pretend nothing happened because it didn’t.”

Oh, he makes you so angry. You can’t believe you’d forgotten that. “You’re serious?” You know he is but you don’t want to believe it.

Andrei meets your glassy eyes and you wish you could read him like he so easily can read you. He looks as conflicted as the day you walked out of his house for the last time, like he has so many words to say but refuses to let them fall from his lips. Just like then, you know this rendezvous means more to him than just a meaningless hookup.

If only he’d admit it…

He exhales a shaky breath as another loud knock disturbs you. “We need to go.” He dodges your question just like he dodges every issue in his life, especially in regards to you. “Come on, kisa.”

“You can’t just call me that, after—after this,” You hiss as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the door. You panic on the inside as he unlocks it because once you leave this dirty sanctuary you know your problems will only get worse.

Strange, how Andrei manages to make everything worse despite making you feel so good.

As if your emotions don’t matter to him (they really don’t), he flashes you a grin as he drags you behind him, past the angry horde of people who, now that you think about it, definitely know you were fucking. “I know you like it.” Spoken so simply, so plain, you hate that he’s right.

You’ll always like it. Always love him. For as long as you’re hung up over him it will always come back to bite you in the ass and he knows this too.

It’s why, without shame, his arm is curled possessively around your waist as he leads you through the crowd of people. Your friends, Jack, don’t even cross your mind as he does so.

“Go find your friends,” He soon leans down to whisper in your ear. “Then find Jack. Tell him you felt sick and had to use the bathroom.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You snap, purposefully antagonizing him.

Andrei merely raises a brow at you. “You can always stay with me, with my cum dripping down your legs, and explain to everyone how you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away.”

You want to hit him. You almost do, but he continues before you actually go through with it.

“I wonder what Jack would say?” Of course he was listening to you earlier. He ignored you then, of course, but he listened.

And yeah, okay, you get it. Not a good idea to let everyone you know see you with him. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with you, either.

“Trying to get rid of me?” You ask, intending to sound sarcastic but it comes off as more insecure than you wanted it to.

You know he is, but you can’t help but ask for confirmation. Maybe it would help you move on to hear how little he actually cares for you.

“I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried,” He replies. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You’ll never get rid of me though.”

He’s right, again. You hate so much that he is because you both know you’ll be crawling back the moment he calls.

You want to cry again as his arm leaves your waist, the absence of his heat leaving you shivering.

Andrei looks at you for a long time, just appraising. He tilts his head like he doesn’t know what to think, but then he spots something behind you and starts backing up.

“I will see you again someday, kisa.” He winks at you, and then he’s gone.

Someone behind you taps your shoulder while speaking into your ear, a voice you recognize as one of the girls you came with. You should probably focus, banish Andrei from your mind, but you don’t.

You strain your neck, watching for him through the crowd. He’s back at the bar with his friends, his teammates you once knew.

He’s laughing at something one of them said. Like he wasn’t just with you, fucking you against the bathroom walls.

“Are you okay?” Your friend behind you asks, the one thing from her you do catch.

“Yeah,” You say, swallowing despite the dryness in your throat. Andrei is talking to more people now, girls that have approached him, you notice. “I’m fine.”

He looks gorgeous under the lights. You catch his brilliant smile, the glimmer of his eyes, and those lips you can never get enough of. You soon lose sight of him amidst the throng of people, but his fleeting allure forever lingers...

Like a steadfast reminder, a haunting echo of what can never be.

A/N: Well, that was fun. I hurt my own feelings writing this but it was worth it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please remember to reblog & comment!!

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[emeraldelixirs]

Bloodsport {II:when the party’s over}

bsf! m. riddle x fem!sallow!reader, stepbrother! t. nott x fem!sallow!reader

Bound by Blood, Betrayed by Fate. When you’re dragged to Malfoy Manor under orders from Voldemort himself, you learn the price of your mother’s mistakes: an Unbreakable Vow, tethering your life to the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange. Forced to navigate a web of dark magic, family debts, and impossible expectations, you must tread carefully in a house brimming with enemies—and a few familiar faces. As tensions rise and the lines between loyalty and survival blur, one question remains: will you find a way to break free, or will you lose yourself to the darkness?

Content warnings: 18+ themes, angst, dark, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, blood, swearing, fighting, taboo themes, underage coercion, predatory behavior, suggestive content, underage recreational drug and alcohol use, typical canon HP themes of blood purity, house prejudices, oppression, lmk if I miss anything this chapter is considerably lengthy with detail

Word count: 8k oops

A/n: is it really a slytherin fic if it doesn’t have a party scene? sorta hehe sorry. but we have the whole gang together in this, and that’s why i love this part sm, easily so far my pride and joy of what i have written for this fic. also collectively the longest chapter ive ever written for any fic ive wrote…ever. banter and comedic relief is really my bread and butter

[playlist: televised—hunny, bite my tongue—you me at six, softcore—the neighbourhood, do i wanna know—arctic monkeys, kyoto—phone bridgers, people—the 1975, fourth of july—sufjan stevens, when the party’s over-from the room below—sleep token, seventeen going under—sam fender]

<< previous part >> || << next part >>

The Zabini Villa roared with laughter, loud chatter, and throbbing music that seemed to make the very walls vibrate. Judging by the unfamiliar faces crowding every room, this party had spiraled well past its original circle of Hogwarts pure-bloods like Blaise had originally intended for. You and Theo wove through the throng, his large, warm hand secured at the small of your back, guiding you gently while you led the way.

“There’s no way all these people are from Hogwarts,” Theo quipped, batting away a gaudy streamer that dangled in front of his face.

“Merlin, no,” you muttered, forcing a polite smile at Millicent Bulstrode as she brushed by, then reverting to a frown once she was gone. “Everyone must sense this might be the last Zabini bash they’ll ever see.”

And perhaps they were right. The Daily Prophet had plastered the story across its front page at the end of term: the Department of Mysteries debacle was conclusive proof that Voldemort was back. The second wizarding war had begun to weave its dark tendrils into daily life, pulling you—and your friends—deeper into roles none of you wanted. Now, your presence at this party felt less like revelry and more like obligation. But among the upper-inner circles you roamed, appearances were everything still. You and your friends had a carefully maintained status quo, and no looming war would undo that overnight.

Not that you were simply a carefree teen. You were also Bellatrix’s pawn: the one she nudged around the board, using you to lure secrets from the gullible, offering your company to the wavering. You tried not to dwell on that as you made a beeline for the kitchens, your chest feeling tight beneath the weight of her instructions.

“The less your peers know, the better,” she’d sneered earlier that week, pacing in the Malfoy Manor drawing room.

“We may never know who might have vital information—on their family, their loyalties, their resources…” Her cold eyes had narrowed on you, a grimace of satisfaction twisting her features.

“Do you understand, girl?”

“Yes… Mistress,” you’d been forced to concede, swallowing your hatred.

Now the memory fluttered through your head as you stepped into Blaise’s expansive kitchen. You exhaled, relieved at the relative calm. Maybe you could breathe easier here, at least for a moment.

“C’mon, let’s get a drink,” Theo said, noticing the faraway look in your eyes. He maneuvered around you, snagging two cups from an array of colorful bottles lined across the counters.

To your mild surprise, the kitchen wasn’t packed—only a handful of people rummaged for snacks or chattered over glasses of spiked punch. The music, mercifully, was less ear-splitting.

You leaned against the moss agate countertop, the cool surface grounding you. Theo’s presence was a balm, as it always had been. You’d known him since infancy, your mothers having been close friends long before war divided loyalties. And his father—your now stepfather—had become a mentor to your own father before his untimely death.

Theo had been there for every moment that mattered: the good, the bad, the life-altering. Neither of you wore icy apathy like a shield towards one another; instead, your shared experiences had created an unspoken understanding. A bond as unshakable as it was fraught.

A hand slid around your shoulder, making you jump.

“Oi,” Daphne Greengrass said, lips quirking into a half-smile. “So jumpy. Relax—it’s a party.”

You forced a semblance of a grin, tension dissolving a fraction when you saw it was just her. “Daph…”

She pressed a friendly kiss to your cheek, eyes darting between you and Theo. “Where in Salazar’s name have you two been? Blaise is losing his mind—he’s about ready to hex the pair of you for being late.”

She didn’t know half of it since this was the first time you’d seen her since summer began; how Bellatrix had forced you into an unbreakable vow; how Theo had been dragged into the Dark Lord’s fold with no way out. War loomed in every corner, and Daphne, blissfully unaware, was closer to its claws than she realized. And you hadn’t been sure you wanted her to know, terribly naive, too pure for the mud you and the other rolled around in now.

You shrugged lightly, deflecting. “Busy summer.”

She jabbed a finger at you, pouting. “More importantly, where have my letters gone?! I wrote you heaps!”

You flinched. She pulled away, stepping around the island to give Theo a quick squeeze and a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You do realize our father’s in Azkaban currently?” Theo replied for you, tone sharper than usual, though that never deterred Daphne.

“And?” she retorted, placing her hands on her hips. “A simple note to tell me you’re fine would’ve been comforting, you git.”

Theo set his jaw, a flicker of apology in his eyes. “Right. Sorry.”

You parted your lips to intervene, but Daphne continued chastising Theo, her exasperation morphing into mild relief that both of you were safe. Then launching into her usual Daphne updates, like a beat wasn’t missed: an outfit she saw that reminded her of you, the gossip she heard—that you too should have known—since school ended, or where her family was choosing to stay for holiday.

Somewhere in her mini-lecture, she casually mentioned:

“Oh, and watch out—someone said Lord Rosier’s nephew, Evander, is here tonight, skulking around somewhere. You know the Rosiers, always up to something… shady.” Then she held her arm as she twirled a piece of her honey blond hair, thoughtfully. Then adding in, “though I remember him being so handsome back in first year—shame.”

An internal pang reminded you of the other very real reason you were here—to attempt to gain information from any possible prominent names in attendance. Her offhand comment sent your thoughts spiraling because this was, if not, the biggest prominent name on the list of contacts Bellatrix had talked about. The Rosiers were an influential pure-blood family, their allegiances as ambiguous as they were dangerous. If Evander was here, he might have information Bellatrix would find valuable.

You masked your interest, offering a polite nod. Inside, determination sparked more than it ever had since you were pushed into task. If you could pry even a shred of intel from Evander, it might buy you some breathing room—enough to finish your summer coursework without Bellatrix breathing down your neck. Even for a week? Then you could surely spend the rest of summer doing her bidding, or gods knows what, and maybe hold together your sanity?

“Need to… use the bathroom,” you excused yourself, ignoring Daphne’s frown of confusion. Theo’s gaze lingered on you, sharp and knowing. But he let it go, turning back to placate Daphne.

Your mind thrummed: Find Evander. Ask the right questions. Remember Bellatrix’s instructions. Your stomach twisted in equal parts excitement and dread. This had been it—a moment to prove yourself.

You scourged the main corridors of the party, narrowly dodging your friends and peers, with no sign of the infamous wizard yet.

Did you even remember what he looked like?

Finally giving up on the obvious, you slipped into a hallway that led away from the main commotion. Passing ornate paintings and the occasional couple giggling in corners towards the back wing of the villa, you found a partially open door—likely Blaise’s mother’s study or personal lounge. Light spilled through the crack of the sturdy mahogany door with noise of man humming lightly.

You took a breath, moving slowly to peak through the ajar door.

A tall, slender wizard with sharp cheekbones and slicked-back hair leaned against a sideboard, swirling a glass of brandy. It was him—Evander Rosier, you had remembered him from when he attended Hogwarts faintly now. He was in 6th year when you had only first been sorted, but you remembered his distinctive features anywhere. He was the head boy for Slytherin by his 7th, with a gleaming smile, and dimpled cheeks that made all the girls swoon.

Not you though, you weren’t easily charmed with looks, even when people thought of you to think different. Veelas or those with Veela lineage held ideologies that vastly contrasted the stereotype, but that may have been something your mother had just told you. You never met her side of the family or knew much besides they disowned her when she married your father.

Taking a deep breath, you took a baited one right after, faking a casual stroll into the room, glancing behind your shoulder for anyone that may have seen. The space was richly decorated with dark wood shelves, a looming portrait of some Zabini ancestor, and a deep emerald rug that muffled your footsteps.

Evander glanced up when you entered, eyebrows raised in mild curiosity. “Can I help you?” he asked, not unkindly, but distant.

You summoned your best coy grin. “Oh, sorry—I was looking for a quieter spot.” You let your gaze trail meaningfully over the spines of expensive books, then back to him. “Didn’t realize someone was here.”

He shrugged, taking another sip. “I don’t care for crowds. You can stay if you’d like.”

Perfect. You let out a soft sigh, stepping closer. “Crowds can be suffocating, can’t they?” you said, letting just the right note of empathy creep into your voice. “Especially these days, with the rumors swirling… people are so on edge.”

He gave a short laugh, swirling the brandy again. “Rumors. Right.” His eyes darted to the door. “Though some rumors are more than that, if you catch my drift.”

Your heart gave a little leap. This was going somewhere. “I do,” you murmured, feigning a shadow of concern. “Everyone’s talking about… you know, Him. People say families might be forced to pick a side again.”

He stiffened slightly. “And do you have a side, Miss…?”

You offered a small, self-deprecating laugh, hand pressed lightly to your collarbone in a subtle attempt to seem compelling. “Selle.” You opt for your mother’s maiden name. “I’m just a young witch, worried about my future, about where my family stands. It’s all so uncertain. Forgive me if I overstep.”

His expression softened slightly. “Curiosity isn’t a sin, Miss Selle. But it’s a dangerous habit to cultivate these days.”

You forced a bashful smile, letting your lashes flutter—just as Bellatrix had drilled into you. “I only ask because… I want to be prepared. For whatever’s coming.”

His gaze flicked over you, lingering for a moment too long, and a knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Preparedness is admirable. But it can also attract… unwanted attention.” He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “Are you sure we haven’t met before? You seem… familiar.”

He thinks I’m flirting, you realized with a jolt of disgust. But you pressed on. If you wanted these secrets, you had to endure the creeping slime of his interest, you reminded yourself of your training with Bellatrix.

Your throat tightened, and your pulse quickened. “I don’t think so,” you replied, aiming for nonchalance. “But perhaps you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

“Perhaps,” he mused, though his eyes betrayed lingering doubt. He reached out, brushing a knuckle against your shoulder—a gesture that made your skin crawl, though you resisted the urge to recoil and continued to flutter your lashes up at him.

“How are you preparing for the inevitable…forgive me,” you touched his arm, thoughtfully. “I hadn’t caught your name yet?”

He studied you, the softened sharpness of doubt in his eye dissipating as he stared at you. “Evander Rosier,” he said, dazed. “My uncle’s always forging alliances, scouting alternative avenues. Now that the Ministry’s rattled…” A dopey like smirk curved his lips?

That was interesting—unexpectedly your charm had begun to work. You forced your expression to remain neutral, your mind racing to process what he’d just revealed. “Alternative avenues,” you echoed, letting the words hang in the air. “Like… trade alliances? Resource management?”

His fingers trailed down your arm slowly. “We’re… considering our options. With the Ministry in disarray, alliances are fragile. It’s a precarious time for everyone.” The closer he stayed, the more his cologne hit you like a wall of acrid fumes, sharp and cloying, filling the air between you with an almost suffocating intensity.

“But you have the resources,” you pressed, letting a trace of awe color your voice, though you upturned your nose avoiding his heady overpowering musk. “The foresight. Surely the Rosiers aren’t relying on chance.”

He chuckled softly, the sound devoid of humor. “Chance is a fool’s game. Let’s just say we’re exploring alternative avenues. Not everyone sees eye-to-eye with the Dark Lord’s methods, you know.”

You nodded in understanding. “Your family must be analytical. I envy that, mine can be so naive and misled, never seeing the bigger picture.” A scoff to feign disdain.

“You’re quite inquisitive, Miss Selle. Should I be worried you’ll pass on every word I say to some rival faction?” A charming smile donned his features as he teased you.

You bit your lip, acting as if you were being bashful. “Oh, hush,” you said lightly, playing coy. “I just want to know where the wind blows. For my own safety.”

The air weighed heavy, and you felt a flush of shame. But you forced a sweet smile until he relaxed again, rambling about his relatives’ hush-hush business deals and doubts about the Dark Lord. You caught snatches of who they might recruit, how they planned to hide assets, all the while your heartbeat thundered at your success.

Eventually, he glanced at the time and frowned. “I’ve got to mingle. But perhaps we’ll talk again?” He grabbed your hand, brushing your knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

You swallowed your revulsion. “I would hope, Mr. Rosier.”

“You’re surprisingly… charming,” he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, as he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your hand.

You forced a tight smile, leaning into his touch just enough to keep the illusion intact. “Likewise,” you murmured, stepping back to break the contact. “I should probably get back as well. My friends will start wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

Evander’s smile widened, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. “Of course. Do take care, Miss Selle. The world is a dangerous place for the… unprepared.”

With that, he tipped his glass in a mock salute and slipped out of the study without another word. You waited a moment before you made your way out of the room, your chest tight and your mind racing. The information he’d shared was valuable, no doubt—but the cost of acquiring it had left a bitter taste in your mouth. A mixture of triumph and nausea churned in your stomach. You’d gleaned valuable info—Bellatrix would be pleased. But the cost felt steep.

Emerging from the study, you felt shaky, so you snatched a drink from a passing tray and downed it in one go. You nearly bumped into Pansy, who’d apparently been looking for you.

“There you are!” she scolded, linking your arm with hers. “We’re headed to the veranda for fresh air—Blaise wants to smoke.”

Her eyes lit on your face, puzzling over your unsettled expression. “Are you… okay?”

You forced a bright grin. “Sure, yeah. Just… too many people in there.”

But your hands trembled slightly, and Pansy noticed. She frowned. “You’re sure?”

Before you could answer, Daphne’s voice floated over, calling, “Y/n, there you are! Was the toilet enchanted and sucked you in?” She stopped short, noticing your stiff posture. “What’s going on?”

They both stared at you with that worry in their eyes. They didn’t know the half of it—how deep you and the others were entangled in the Dark Lord’s web.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, plastering on a wry smile. “This place is packed. I had to go all the way to the other side of the house to use Blaise’s personal bathroom, the line was so long. Got cornered by some ex-Slytherin alumni, talking my ear off on the way back.”

Daphne’s brows rose. “You? Getting cornered by random men? Never.” She tried to sound playful, but her eyes flickered with concern. “Ugh, well, you’re safe now, with us.”

You almost winced, remembering how you’d endured the man’s touch and questions just minutes ago. But you just shrugged it off. Keep the mask on, you reminded yourself, following your friends closely through the throng of wizards and witches.

Inwardly, you clung to the swirl of relief. The idea of being surrounded by your close friends, you could put on your old persona again—just a teenage witch out for a good time—never mind the dark secrets burning a hole in your mind.

After edging away from the house’s main hall, you emerged onto a white stone veranda that stretched grandly across the villa’s rear façade. Tall, dark mahogany beams framed the space like silent guardians, while beyond them, the night sky hung heavy with stars. Music reverberated from within, muffled here by the draped entrances.

In one corner of the veranda, your circle of friends had gathered like a small court. The aura they exuded—Mattheo, Draco, Theo, Enzo, and your host, Blaise—repelled most other party-goers, who lingered meters away. Perhaps the others sensed that an entourage of Death Eater heirs—and the Dark Lord’s heir himself—was too intimidating a scene to breach. Even in the chaos of this unexpectedly crowded party, power commanded distance.

Daphne let out an excited squeal as she dropped into one of the cushioned iron chairs by Blaise. “Everyone’s together again!” she cheered, blissfully unaware of the that undercut what lingered around her within her own friends.

Pansy strolled over to Enzo, who stood near Blaise, indulgently smoking a joint that was being passed around. A swirl of smoke left his lips just as Pansy pinched his arm, snatching the cylinder from his hand.

“Oi, Pans—what the fuck?!” he snapped, rubbing his arm.

“Looked like you were hogging it,” she retorted with a nonchalant shrug, raising the joint to her lips.

A slight grin tugged at your mouth, and you ruffled Enzo’s hair as you walked past, heading to drape your arms around Blaise’s shoulders from behind in a gesture of greeting. “Sorry for being late,” you murmured. He patted your arm briefly, acceptance in his silence.

You then moved to the wide couch where Theo and Draco were seated. They each gave you a subdued nod. Theo casually rested his arm across the back of the couch, behind you, as though you’d never been apart. Draco gave a subtle tilt of his lips—a sort of half-smile, half-cool acknowledgment.

“More like you ladies were taking forever,” Enzo grumbled, adjusting his fluffy brown hair, glaring at Pansy who was now inhaling deeply on the stolen joint.

“It took us ages to find Y/N,” Pansy interjected, her tone pointed as she exhaled a plume of smoke that curled overhead.

You raised a brow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this party was less than sacred among our peers and needed some solitude at the other end of the house.” The smoothness in your voice was practiced, every bit of forced normalcy. You’d slip a mask over the chaos that churned in your racing thoughts, bidding to grant yourself grace for the rest of the night. You’d done what you needed, there was no need to dig for more.

Across from you, Daphne let her legs drape over the arm of her chair, and Mattheo silently passed the joint her way. She took a swift drag, then handed it off to Draco.

Blaise let out a bark of laughter. “I didn’t realize either, okay?” he said, gesturing at the throng of unfamiliar wizards mingling through the open archways. “Apparently, the world’s craving a distraction with… well, everything going on.”

You flicked a look at Theo. He met your gaze, then glanced at Mattheo, who had fixed his dark eyes on you—a hard stare that spoke of annoyance or concern briefly flitting to your now healed hands, then back to your eyes. Your stomach knotted as he scowled deeper, snapping his gaze away the second you raised a questioning brow.

It stung. He was—is—your best friend, along with Theo. Inseparable, you three. Hell, he basically lived with you and Theo at this point. Had his own room in the guest wing and everything. So why did he choose to be distant when you needed him most? When he needed you the most?

“Probably never a good sign if Evander Rosier’s milling about,” Pansy said, taking another slow drag before handing the joint to Draco. She wrinkled her nose. “That man’s a menace.”

Daphne propped her head up, eyes alight with curiosity. “Is he still as handsome as he was in school?” She twirled her hair, kicking her feet idly off the chair’s arm.

“Daph, the guy’s a weasel—” you started, rolling your eyes.

“That prat is here?” Mattheo muttered, stepping forward and running a tense hand through his curls. He spat the words low enough that only your group would hear. There was something almost feral in his tone, like he itched for a confrontation.

Draco leaned in, elbows on his knees. “Bold of him, considering his family's got major targets on their backs for switching allegiances when it suited them. Heard the Dark Lord isn’t fond of turncoats. You’d think they’d keep their heads down.”

“Exactly,” Mattheo agreed, starting to pace in the limited space of the veranda. Each step exuded pent-up energy, a sign of the storm roiling beneath his brooding façade. “I don’t trust him,” Mattheo muttered.

“You don’t trust anyone,” Pansy quipped, leaning into Enzo’s side as she blew a huff of air to fix her bangs.

Mattheo didn’t bother replying, his jaw clenching tighter. Draco, seated at his side of the couch, shifted slightly, one leg crossing over the other as his cool gray gaze flicked between Mattheo and Theo. A hum of knowledge unspoken as the dark curly haired boy continued pacing, his equally dark eyes sharp and restless. His shoulders were tight beneath his tailored jacket, each step deliberate but restrained, as though holding back something more volatile.

War was creeping into every aspect of your lives. It was easy to mask it under booze, weed, and forced smiles, but it only took a mention of someone like Rosier to remind you that trouble lurked everywhere.

“Well, Mattheo’s not wrong,” Draco said, breaking the silence. His tone was measured, but his words carried weight. “If Evander Rosier’s here, it’s for a reason. And it’s not to mingle.”

Daphne, ignorant to the depth of that trouble, scoffed. “You lot are so dramatic. Maybe he’s just here to enjoy the party. Could be a rumor, anyway—who said he’s committing treason?”

Pansy grimaced. “Not treason, survival,” she corrected, flicking her gaze your way. “Rosier’s family is desperate to cling to whatever power they have left. Bet they’ll sell out friends or enemies alike to keep afloat.”

“And what does it matter to us?” Daphne countered, her tone breezy but her eyes narrowing. “We’re not the ones making alliances, are we?”

Her words struck a chord—you forced yourself not to flinch, remembering how you and Theo, Mattheo, and even Draco plus Enzo had been entangled in the Dark Lord’s webs. You busied your hands by taking the joint from Theo and inhaling a bitter drag. A tingle of numbness slid through your veins, but the conversation kept your mind from fully escaping.

Theo, finally spoke up. His arm still rested casually along the back of the couch, his fingers tapped a steady rhythm against the fabric, growing antsy. “If Rosier’s family is trying to play both sides, that makes him a liability to everyone. Including us.”

The group fell silent, the weight of his words settling like a shroud, uncomfortably close to the truth.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Y/n,” Pansy noted, arching a brow as she glanced your way. “Something on your mind?”

You exhaled smoke, crafting your face into something neutral. “Just listening,” you deflected, passing the joint to Enzo. “Watching the crowd, seeing who’s worth noticing.”

“You just smoked!” Enzo complained, though he took the cylinder greedily.

Mattheo’s pacing halted, his gaze snapping to you with hawk-like sharpness. “Did you talk to him?” he asked abruptly.

The question sent a ripple through your friends, each set of eyes anchoring on you.

You wanted to scoff, nothing got past him, did it? Feeling so entitled to know everything you did, despite keeping you at arms length right now.

You hesitated—barely a fraction of a second—long enough for Mattheo’s eyes to narrow. “Briefly,” you confessed, keeping your tone cool. “He wasn’t direct, but he hinted his family might not be as loyal to the Dark Lord as they pretend. Could be worth telling—”

“You shouldn’t have,” Mattheo cut you off, voice throbbing with repressed anger. “You can’t toy with Rosier, he’s dangerous.” Mattheo’s scowl deepened, and he ran a hand through his dark curls in frustration. “You believed him?”

Something about his hostility riled you. You straightened, the high of the smoke fueling a rush of bravado, everyone became muffled background noise. “I’m not toying with him, I’m gaining information. If any of it’s true, we can use it. If not—”

“Y/n,” Theo leaned forward, trying to interrupt.

“Use it for what? Bellatrix’s schemes?” Mattheo interrupted him, bitterness dripping from every word. “For what? For him to use you for his schemes as well now?”

The words hung between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. You straightened your spine, the mask of confidence you’d worn all evening hardening.

“I’m not toying with anyone,” you said quietly, doubling down on your stance. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Mattheo snapped. “Because it seems like you’re getting in over your head stupidly.” His words laced with venom.

“Mattheo.” Theo’s voice became sharper, his arm tensed along the back of the couch, but his body coming forward. You put a hand on his chest, pushing lightly him back into the couch.

“No, let him finish,” the words left your mouth before you could stop them. You had been bemused almost. These were the most words you had garnered from him—in the form of an argument nonetheless—something that shouldn’t have shocked you.

Mattheo’s eyes burned into yours, the intensity of his gaze almost unbearable. “You think Bellatrix cares if you come back in one piece? You think she’s sending you out there because she trusts you?” Mattheo’s voice rose, drawing the attention of several onlookers. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “You’re disposable to her, Y/n. We all are.”

A hush descended, the weight of his outburst making the veranda feel smaller. The truth of his words cut deep, but you refused to flinch. Instead, you held his gaze, your jaw tightening.

Somewhere in the corner, Blaise stood, shock and anger etched across his features. “Wait, wait, wait–a gods forsaken second!” Blaise demanded, half to the group, half to you, looking from Theo to Draco to Mattheo for clarity. “Bellatrix’s schemes? Gaining information? What the hell have you lot been doing this summer?”

You didn’t need legilimency to see how Daphne, now realized how serious this was, sat upright, eyes wide. “You guys are… involved with the Dark Lord? And you never told—”

Pansy paled, anxiety twisting her face. “Merlin, did you take the Mark?” She peered at Enzo, then Theo, then you, voice trembling. “Please tell me you didn’t. Tell me you still have a choice.”

Enzo shifted, inhaling sharply, “Well, only Theo and Matt—uh…”

He trailed off, a fateful hush smothering the veranda. The color drained from Blaise’s cheeks; Pansy’s hand flew to her mouth in horror. Daphne opened and closed her mouth, at a total loss, the illusions of carefree youth shattered before all your eyes.

The stress in your chest mounted, your mind swirling with guilt for all you’d hidden. Theo leaned forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Enzo…” he grumbled.

Mattheo’s nostrils flared, fists clenching at his sides. “You… you twat!” he snarled, rounding on Enzo. Anger and frustration overloaded him, the tension snapping like a frayed wire of weeks of him barely holding it together

In one swift motion, he lunged for Enzo. The other wizard watchers on the other side of the veranda corner recoiled, startled, as Daphne yelped, tumbling off her seat. The metal chair scraped violently across the stone. Pansy rushed to her aide while the rest of you scrambled to break up the fight.

Draco and Theo tried to pry Mattheo off Enzo, who’d ended up pinned on the floor. Blaise tried to help, but Mattheo and Enzo were locked in a tangle of furious limbs, fists swinging, sounds of fists connecting to bone. Shouts rose from the party-goers that remained, some jeering, others stepping back to watch the spectacle like a twisted show.

Your stomach churned. You’d known everyone was on edge, but seeing them physically brawl—to the point of bruises, cut lips, and swollen eyes—felt like a bitter confirmation that the war had long sunk its claws into your friend group, fracturing the dynamic you all once held.

Your hands shook as you sprang forward alongside Blaise, trying to wedge yourself between the two hotheaded boys. Theo had latched onto Mattheo’s arm, Draco pulling Enzo, but the pair still flailed with adrenaline and rage.

“Stop—stop it!” you yelled, voice cracking with tears you refused to shed. You could glimpse Enzo’s dazed expression beneath Mattheo’s clenched fist. The savage twist in Mattheo’s features struck you with guilt—had you caused this?

Finally, with combined effort, Draco, Blaise, and Theo yanked the two fighters apart. Mattheo staggered backward, panting and furious, his lip split, while Enzo lay on the floor, coughing, a bruise already forming on his jaw, eye swelling. The veranda fell into a stunned silence as party-goers parted to watch.

Blaise, face grim, holding onto the younger man. “You got him?” He asked, and you nodded quickly as he let Enzo slouch into your grasp. He then stepped forward and brandished his wand with authority. “That’s it. Party’s done—get out!” he roared at the onlookers, who quickly backed away, murmuring in hushed tones. Some half-scurried to the exit, others lingered but kept their distance.

You knelt by Enzo, gently brushing back his chocolate brown hair. Despite your anger at him, you couldn’t stop the wave of compassion. His nose was swollen, maybe broken, and blood trickled down his chin. He looked up at you, eyes full of remorse.

“S-sorry,” Enzo whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just… hold still, we’ll get you patched up soon.”

Near you, Mattheo stood rigid, fists still trembling, you shot him a bitter glare. Theo hovered, breaths ragged, one arm loosely supporting Mattheo, the other still clamped on your shoulder for stability. The hush pulsed with leftover anger, confusion, guilt.

Pansy and Daphne stared at the group in shock from where they sat, uncertain whether to help Enzo or scold Mattheo. Draco grimly surveyed the damage—a few scattered chairs, a torn tablecloth, broken glasses. The fleeting warmth of the night had turned sour, a mirror of the secrets you and your friends tried to hide from the others now laid bare.

Blaise rubbed his temples, clearing the last stragglers away. “I’ll handle them,” he muttered, shooting the group a glare that balanced frustration and worry. “For now, just—sort yourselves out. This is all going to absolute shit.”

Around you, the once-lively party had dissolved into broken fragments. The veranda, now eerily quiet, bore the evidence of the night’s chaos: dark smears of blood against the pale stone, shattered glass glittering under the soft glow of the fairy lights. In the distance, the music continued its pulsing, upbeat hum—mocking the grim reality before you.

Mattheo stood apart, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain control, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. Enzo sat slumped against the railing, wincing under your careful touch, his face contorted with pain. Theo, his usual composure frayed, closed his eyes briefly, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of the night had finally broken him. You swallowed hard, blinking back tears that threatened to spill, the stress of the evening hanging over you like a leaden cloak.

Without warning, Mattheo turned sharply, causing both you and Theo to instinctively shield Enzo from whatever fury might follow. But Mattheo didn’t lash out at any of you; instead, he kicked a broken votive lying on the ground, sending shards scattering across the stone.

“Fuck!” he spat, his voice low and hoarse, as he stalked toward the edge of the veranda, Draco following. He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one with shaking hands, then offering the pack and lighter to Draco, who took it with trembling fingers.

The flame trembled briefly before catching, the glow illuminating the raw anger and frustration etched across his face. Draco’s face is heavy with exhaustion evident on his pale features.

Theo exhaled deeply, releasing his hold on you as he turned to check on Daphne. She sat huddled nearby, her knees drawn to her chest, tears streaking her pale cheeks. Bright, angry red scrapes marred her arms and legs where she’d fallen, her quiet sobs cutting through the silence like a knife. With Theo nearby, Pansy excused herself to go find Blaise inside the house.

Daphne shouldn’t have been part of this. She wasn’t supposed to be caught in the crossfire of your mess—or theirs. You doubted Mattheo or Enzo had wanted this, either. For all her family’s ties to conservative politics, Daphne had always remained blissfully uninvolved in the darker intricacies of the war. She should have been unscathed.

Enzo groaned softly, clutching his side, his breaths shallow and labored.

You let out a quiet sigh, reaching for your wand.

“Keep still, please,” you murmured, your voice gentler than you felt. “This is going to hurt.”

His only response was a faint grimace as you grasped his broken nose carefully between your fingers. He winced sharply, a hiss of pain escaping through his teeth, but he didn’t pull away.

You muttered the incantation for a mending spell, your wand’s tip glowing faintly as you guided the bones back into place. The magic hummed beneath your skin, familiar but no less draining.

“There,” you whispered, leaning back slightly to inspect your work.

Enzo exhaled shakily, his face pale but less strained.

You, Pansy, and Daphne had long since learned the basics of healing spells, an unfortunate necessity when dealing with the boys. Scuffles with others—and often each other—had left their marks over the years. But tonight was different. This wasn’t some petty fistfight or roughhousing gone wrong. This was something darker, more violent.

“Thanks,” Enzo rasped, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, brushing another stray strand of hair from your face as you sat back on your heels.

Nearby, Theo helped Daphne to her feet, his touch gentle but firm. She winced as she stood, her scraped knees trembling slightly. He muttered something low, his voice too soft for you to catch, but whatever he said made her nod, her sobs quieting to sniffles, helping her sit on the couch.

Mattheo, meanwhile, remained by the railing, his back to the group. Smoke curled around him in lazy spirals, the sharp scent of burning tobacco cutting through the night air.

“You should talk to him,” Theo said suddenly, his voice tight and quiet as he returned to your side.

Your head snapped up, meeting his gaze.

“Me?” you shot back, your voice hushed but edged with disbelief. “Why me?”

Theo’s jaw clenched, “someone has to keep him in check, Y/n. He’s going to get himself—or all of us—killed.”

Your lips parted, a retort forming, but the weight of his words silenced you. He wasn’t wrong.

“He won’t listen,” you whispered finally, your voice barely audible. “Look at what happened just now.”

Theo’s expression softened, the anger giving way to weariness. “He listens to you more than anyone else. He always has.”

You glanced toward Mattheo, your heart heavy. He stood rigid, staring out into the dark expanse beyond the veranda, the glow of his cigarette flickering faintly in the shadows.

“It’s true,” Enzo sat up more properly. “Even when you two are at each other’s throats.”

You shook your head, “not now.” You muttered, looking back down at Enzo. “Lets get you in a seat.”

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the distant hum of music and the faint crackle of Mattheo’s cigarette with the scraping of a chair that Theo picked up for Enzo to sit in before pulling up his own chair. Their legs bounced up and down anxiously in tandem as no one dared to speak. You sat with your back against the railing, picking at the sides of your nails anxiously.

Pansy finally emerged from the house, her arms laden with first aid supplies. Her usual sharp, composed demeanor was dulled, her expression unusually grim as Blaise trailed behind her, carrying a bottle of firewhisky and a collection of mismatched glasses—enough for all of you.

“Well, that was fun. Anyone else want to air any more grievances?” Blaise announced, his voice laced with sardonic humor as he set the bottle and glasses on the small table beside his chair. He poured himself a drink with practiced ease, his movements deliberately casual, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his true feelings.

No one responded.

Blaise glanced around, his deadpan expression hardening. “Good. Let’s start the family meeting, then.”

Mattheo let out a sharp, humorless laugh from his place at the railing, the ember of his cigarette flaring briefly as he inhaled. “Family meeting? You’re acting like this is some petty school spat, Zabini.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, unruffled. “And you’re acting like sulking is going to fix anything, Riddle.” He poured himself a generous measure of firewhisky, the clink of glass on glass unnervingly loud in the silence.

Draco sank into a chair across from Blaise, his elbows resting on his knees, a sharp contrast to Mattheo’s restless stance.

Mattheo rolled his eyes but said nothing, taking another slow drag of his cigarette. The smoke curled lazily around him, dissipating into the cool night air.

“This mess is only going to get worse if we don’t get our shit together,” Theo said, his voice steady but laced with a frustration that mirrored everyone’s simmering exhaustion.

“Enlighten us, Theo,” Pansy cut in, her arms crossed as she perched on the edge of a chaise. “What exactly is the plan here? Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve all—” she paused, her sharp gaze flicking to each of you, her finger subtly tracing a circle that excluded only Blaise and Daphne. “—been keeping things from us.”

“And if we told you?” Theo shot back, his tone sharper now. “What then? You think any of us asked for this? Dragging you into this mess is the last thing we want.”

“Enough,” you said firmly, your voice slicing through the escalating tension. You stood, brushing the dust from your hands, feeling the weight of their stares settle heavily on you. For a moment, you regretted speaking, but you pressed on.

“Whether we told them or not, they’re associated with us,” you said, sitting beside Daphne. “They’ve been collateral since we made our vows. And now? It’s about survival. We’re in too deep, and we all know it.”

Mattheo snorted, the sound bitter and sharp. “Oh, we know it. But pretending to be one big, happy family isn’t going to change anything.”

“And brooding in a corner is?” Blaise shot back, topping off his glass with an air of exasperated nonchalance.

“They deserve to know,” you said softly, picking up a bottle of antiseptic elixir and a clean cloth. You turned to Daphne. “May I?”

She nodded silently, her tear-streaked face a mixture of gratitude and quiet pain. You dabbed the cloth with the elixir and began cleaning the scrapes on her knee. “Face it, Mattheo,” you continued, your tone firmer now. “We’re stuck with each other, whether you like it or not.”

“Stuck,” Mattheo repeated, his voice low and dangerous. He flicked the half-smoked cigarette into the darkness, the ember snuffed out on impact. “You say that like it’s some minor inconvenience, Y/n. But in case you’ve forgotten, there are people out there who’d kill us all without a second thought. And some of us…” His voice dropped, and his eyes flicked briefly to Theo. “Some of us are already marked.”

His words hung heavy in the air, the unspoken weight of the Dark Marks on Mattheo’s and Theo’s arms casting an even darker shadow over the group.

Daphne broke the silence, her voice soft but steady as she placed a hand on yours, stilling your movements. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she said, her blue-gray eyes filled with quiet resolve. “We’re your friends. Not your enemies, not spies waiting to turn on you. Friends. If any of us thought in first year that befriending Riddle, Sallow, Malfoy, and Nott was a mistake, we’d have steered clear. But we didn’t. We chose you, just like we’re choosing to stand with you now.”

Mattheo’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at her, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.

A watery chuckle bubbled out of you despite the heaviness of the moment, and you quickly wiped your face with the back of your hand.

Pansy hummed in agreement, picking up the glasses Blaise had poured and passing them around. “She’s right,” she said, her tone light but firm. “So stop brooding, Mattheo, and get over here.”

Mattheo’s scowl deepened, but he pushed off the railing, crossing the veranda begrudgingly.

Blaise exhaled heavily, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Now we want to know everything,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “And don’t bother sparing the details. I can get my hands on Veritaserum if I have to.”

Theo rolled his eyes but accepted a glass, muttering something under his breath. Draco rubbed a hand down his face, masking a smirk, while Enzo let out a soft laugh before wincing and clutching his side.

You handed a glass to Daphne, then grabbed one for yourself, the firewhisky burning as you took a slow sip.

“Fine,” you said, leaning back against the cold stone wall, the firewhisky warming your chest but doing little to ease the heaviness of the moment. “But you’d better brace yourselves. You might wish you hadn’t asked.”

With Theo, Draco, Enzo, and even begrudging input from Mattheo, you told them everything. The words came haltingly at first, but as the night wore on, they began to flow more easily. You described the aftermath of Lucius Malfoy’s and Theodore Nott Sr.’s imprisonment in Azkaban, the brutal ceremony that branded Mattheo and Theo with the Dark Mark, and your own unbreakable vow with Bellatrix—a chain wrapped tightly around your throat.

Every detail out in the open, even Bellatrix’s obsession with your role as her informant. When you recounted your confrontation with Evander Rosier, Mattheo’s fingers turned white against the arm of the chair. His jaw clenched, the muscle twitching as you explained why Rosier’s allegiance—or lack thereof—was such a critical piece in Bellatrix’s game.

“Merlin,” Daphne whispered, her face pale as she sank deeper into her chair. “If I’d known, I never would have—Y/n, I’m so sorry—”

You waved her off with a lazy flick of your wrist, muttering another ‘Reparo’ as you all worked to restore some semblance of order to the veranda. Shattered glass reassembled, splatters of blood faded from the white stone, but the aftermath of it all lingered

“You didn’t know,” you said softly, brushing stray hair from your face. “And honestly? It might still be useful. If it buys me even a day of her not breathing down my neck, I’ll take it.”

Mattheo scoffed from across the veranda, his sharp eyes flicking toward you, but he said nothing. You shot him a glare, daring him to push further, he only turned his focus back to cleaning, muttering incantations as he scrubbed at the stubborn stains on the tiles.

By the time the night drew to a close, the tension had softened, though it never fully dissipated. There were still unspoken fears and lingering doubts, but for now, what mattered was that the group remained intact.

Pansy, Blaise, and Daphne had listened in silence, their expressions a mixture of shock and resolve. Despite everything, they remained steadfast in their decision to stand by you.

“We’re in this together,” Pansy said firmly, her hand resting on your shoulder as she caught your eye. “No matter what.”

The burden you’d carried for weeks felt just a little lighter, their support a fragile but welcome relief even with the apprehension you felt for their involvement. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a flicker of hope.

As the floo network flared to life, casting an emerald glow across the room, you turned to your friends. Each of them stood nearby, ready to depart but unwilling to leave without a proper goodbye.

You hugged Daphne and Pansy tightly, promising to write as often as you could. Enzo pulled you into a warm embrace, murmuring a quiet apology that you brushed off with a forgiving smile. Draco offered a rare but sincere pat on your shoulder before stepping aside for Blaise, who enveloped both you and Theo in a firm, protective group hug.

“Don’t hesitate to call on us,” Blaise said quietly, his voice steady. “If you need anything—anything—you know where to find me.”

For all the darkness that surrounded you, they were your anchor in their own ways.

“We’ll talk soon,” you said, your voice quiet but resolute.

Theo nodded, his arm brushing against yours in silent support as he stepped toward the hearth.

Just as you moved to follow, Mattheo’s voice stopped you. “Y/n.”

You turned to find him standing apart from the others, his usual mask of indifference fractured, if only slightly. The low light caught the sharp angles of his face, his dark eyes glinting with something unspoken. For a moment, the weight he carried: fear, frustration, and a simmering anger, lay bare between you.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, as though wrestling with the words. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and raw, barely audible over the crackling floo. “Get some rest.” He finally murmured, gaze dropped, and his fingers twitched at his sides, betraying the composure he tried so hard to maintain.

Your breath caught, the knot of frustration and exhaustion loosening just enough to let the gravity of his words settle. Despite the distance he’d put between you, the quiet simmering for weeks, this moment felt like a quiet truce—for now—a bridge across the gulf that had formed between you.

You stepped closer, your voice soft but steady, your fingers twitching, wanting to reach out but hesitating. “You know where to find me, Mattheo.”

He lifted his gaze, and for an instant, his expression was unguarded, raw. His nod was slight, almost imperceptible, but enough to say what words couldn’t. His lips pressed into a thin line before he turned away, retreating to the shadows of the villa.

The green flames licked higher, casting flickering shadows against the walls. You hesitated for a moment longer, your eyes lingering on Mattheo’s retreating figure. Then, with a steadying breath, you stepped into the hearth beside Theo.

As the world blurred into streaks of green, Mattheo’s quiet words echoed in your mind.

The war wasn’t just coming—it was already here. And now, more than ever, you’d have to trust that the fragile bond between you all would hold.

Taglist: @moonlightttfae

A/n: and there we have it the madness begins, I hope you enjoyed. Lmk what you think as always!!

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Yeah

Summary: After many failed dates, Lando is always the one to comfort you. Perhaps it's time you look for love in a different place, in someone you already know?

Lando Norris x Reader

WC: 1.0K

Warnings: Curse words, if that’s even a warning.

Masterlist

"Is she okay?" Max said as he saw you storming into the home you shared with him and Lando. You had just come back from a date and let’s just say it did not end well. You had been dating Jack for a while, but he was just expecting too much from you, so you broke up. This was the umpteenth boy that was.

You jumped on your bed, face down, and groaned. Would you ever stay together with someone for longer than a month? Probably not. You twisted around in your bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Not being able to find one, you decide to get into your pyjamas first and take your makeup off.

When you finally finished, you plopped on your bed once again, hearing the boys whisper outside your door. They always tried their best to take of you, especially when your behaviour was worrying them, like now. As expected, soon after, a knock came. "Hey love, are you okay? Can I come in?" – it was Lando, Max had pushed him in to confront you because he knew you the longest and the best out of the two of them – or at least that's what he told Lando to convince him.

You just grumbled as an answer, Lando took it as a yes and walked in silently, moving to lay next to you on the bed. He held his arm out for you to lay on as he asked you, "What happened?"

As soon as he stretched his arm out you were cuddling into him. "We’re over," you said, hiding your face in his chest.

"I’m sorry," he said, holding you a little tighter.

"'T is alright," you said acting as though it didn’t have any effect on you, as always. And to be honest, it didn't impact you as much as it should have; you knew it wasn't going to last.

Nevertheless, this wasn’t an irregular event for the two of you. You had been through numerous break-ups in the one-and-a-half year you’ve been living with the boys, and after every one of them, Lando would always be there to comfort you.

You hated that every single one of your relationships – if you could even call them that – would always end the same way: they wanted something you couldn’t give them. You had figured it out by now; after so many break-ups, you had come to the conclusion that you were the problem and you’d end up alone. It would end after about a month every single time. Why? Because you couldn’t let them in.

You had never been really lucky relationship-wise. The very few times you found someone you allowed in, they’d leave you heartbroken. Because of that, you haven’t been able to do it again, afraid of the same thing happening once more.

“Maybe you should try to find a different type of guy. I think that could help,” Lando said, trying his best to be helpful. He knows where your relationships are getting stuck; you had confessed to him, although it took much convincing to get you to finally admit it. Also, he has enough of this being a regular occurrence, so he will give any suggestion he can come up with to ensure you don't come home disappointed from your dates any longer.

"How would a different type of guy help? I’m the one who can’t open up. I’m the issue,” you mumbled with your head still hiding in his chest.

“I don’t think that’s true. If you don’t feel like you can open yourself up, then the guy is not right for you. Maybe you should try picking guys up someplace other than the club or online.”

“Are you really questioning my choice of men?” You ask Lando, lifting your head up to look at him, squinting your eyes. Who is he to say you're choosing the wrong people? It's not as if he's picking the greatest, most wonderful girls for dating.

“Well, so far it’s not really working out it, is it?”

The look you gave him said enough, but really, you knew he was right.

“Look, I know it’s your decision to make but every time you come back from those dates disappointed, and I think you deserve better than that. Don’t you agree?” He waited for you to answer, but you were unresponsive as you put your head back down on Lando’s chest. “So, maybe it’s time to look elsewhere.”

“Where am I supposed to meet guys then?”

Lando thought for a second. He thought about how maybe you didn’t need to meet a new guy, that maybe you should look at the people already around you. At the people you had already let in, and who hadn’t broken your heart. But he couldn’t say that straight out. You would ask him what he meant, who he was talking about: was he referring to himself? He'd say no, but you'd look straight through him. He knew you well enough to know how well you knew him.

“I don’t know. Your work? At the shops?” Should he say it? If he brought it up naturally, maybe you wouldn’t notice he was talking about himself. Fuck it.

“Maybe you’ve already met someone you could be in a relationship with, but you haven’t realised it.”

You looked up again, brows furrowed. “What on earth does that mean?”

Lando shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe you could fall in love with someone you already know, someone you’ve already let in, someone you’re already friends with,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

You looked at him while you thought about it. “And who would that be?”

Silence.

“You?” You continued.

Fuck. Of course, you’d know Lando was talking about himself. He expected no differently, although he had hoped, and wished, you didn't realise it so quickly.

“Someone like me, yeah,” Lando responded, still looking away.

“Someone like you, or you?” You whispered.

He finally looked at you. “Maybe me.”

“Yeah?” You responded, holding the eye contact.

“Yeah”

You thought about it for a short moment, and came to your conclusion; “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah," you confirmed.

Silence, again. But this time he held your eye.

“Can I kiss you?” You whispered.

“Yeah.”

[proshippers-against-censorship]

In one of my servers someone shared a screenshot of someone's dni that had both proship/profic on it and people who say to "keep freaks out of PLUR on it" followed by op stating plur is for everyone

And everyone seemed pretty weirded out about it, and no additional context was shared about op so I said "nothing seems wrong with this, they can believe that while still not wanting to interact with proshippers"

Idk. I feel like people jumped to conclusions about op, because nothing was stated about how they feel about proshippers, just to dni. And i feel like people sometimes forget that antis can and do spread incorrect definitions of proship and so they jump to conclusions about people with proship dni that they're all horrible evil antis that will harass and doxx you

Idk. Sorry for the rant ig I'm tired of feeling like i'm weird for not jumping on the hate trains that crop up, especially when there's literally never any extra information provided

Unfortunately you cannot wholly determine where somebody stands on something based on DNI alone.

The creator of two of my fursuits had proship DNI in their DNI for the longest time. A month or so ago, they came into the local gc and said they were re-evaluating their stance, as they had realized they misunderstood what it was, and that ultimately they didn't care what others did fictionally, and really never had. Never once had they attacked somebody over fiction, and they've always adored 4lung, a noteably 'problematic' musical artist. The DNI they had in place had little to no reflection of the person they were.

And I think that's a fairly common situation.

[haddonfieldwhore]

safe and sound - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x gn!reader

summary: matthew gets hurt during a game; you get worried it’s bad like last time

warnings: mention of injury, sprinkle of angst

word count: 0.9k

you watched with bated breath as matthew skated cautiously towards the bench, doubling over in discomfort as he sat down, and you pinched your arm gently between your fingertips. ‘it’s just a bad dream- like it always is’ you thought to yourself; ever since he had fractured his sternum during the playoffs last season, your body tensed anytime he was hit into the boards. more times than you could count, you had woken with a start from a nightmare of matthew getting injured again, only to reach over and find him asleep next to you. the thought of him getting hurt like that again plagued your mind, and you wanted more than anything for this to be a dream.

but as the game continued on in front of you, matthew still sat on the bench, you came to the conclusion that you were awake; that this was real. it hadn’t looked like a dirty hit, just an unfortunate one as number 19 found himself crushed between two of the carolina players; no love lost between these two teams. you were not at the game tonight, and as the players departed to the locker room for the first intermission you watched your phone impatiently for a text from matthew.

it finally came through, after what felt like perhaps the longest five minutes of your life, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you read the message on the screen.

he said he would be home soon and you tried to focus on the rest of the game, which remained scoreless until nearly the bitter end. florida scored but the goal was called offside and taken away, and in the end carolina scored with only 18 seconds left, leading to them winning the game.

not long after matthew returned home looking defeated and tired, his hair messy and his white shirt unbuttoned at the top underneath his grey suit he had worn to the game. his tie had been forgotten as it was absent from around his neck, and you walked over to the door to greet him, pulling him into a cautious hug.

“hey,” he hummed under his breath as he placed his bag on the ground and his arms circled around your body. your head rested on his chest as you breathed in his familiar scent, easing your anxiety slightly.

“hey matty,” you sighed, kissing his exposed collarbone softly.

“i’m not gonna break, you know,” he laughed softly, noticing your hesitation, but his body betrayed him as he winced slightly from the laughter shaking his chest. he hoped you hadn’t noticed.

you did.

“but you can, and that’s what scares me,” you protested, still holding on to him carefully. “what happened? are you okay?” you asked, your fingertips gently touching his torso.

“yeah, it’s probably just a bruised rib. they’ll evaluate again tomorrow but for now it should just be a day to day thing,”

“don’t push yourself. if you’re hurt like you were last season…“

“i’m not,“

“are you sure? don’t think i’ve forgotten that brady had to physically drag you out of bed and help you get dressed. and then you played a game after.“

“i know. im sorry baby,” he kissed the top of your head.

“i just worry about you,” you sighed, pulling away to look up at him, your hand reaching up to brush his curls away from his forehead. his hair was getting long, and he had let his facial hair grow out a bit as well; he looked beautiful, though his eyes remained sad as they looked down at you.

“i hadn’t noticed,” he teased, a smile spreading across his face as finally a sparkle of amusement reached his eyes. “i love you,” he smiled again, and the corner of your mouth pulled upwards.

“i love you more,” you argued. “i love you in one piece though, so please try to stay that way-“ he interrupted you with a kiss, and you could feel his smile against your lips.

“i’ll try,” he promised, and he meant it whether you believed him or not.

“thank you,” you kissed him softly again. “but just for the record, i will always be here to put you back together.” you gently slid his suit jacket off his shoulders, placing it over the back of the couch as you walked towards it to sit down. matthew pulled you into his side and you snuggled close to him.

“did the seattle game start yet?” he asked, and you laughed; he truly did live and breathe hockey.

“i think so, probably a few minutes ago,” you said, grabbing the remote and switching on the tv. “i still can’t believe you want to watch hockey after playing a game. you guys don’t even play them again this season.”

“yeah but vancouver is only two points ahead of us, so i want them to lose,” he explained. it made sense; florida was fighting back and forth with boston for first in the eastern conference right now, and both teams were right on the tail of the canucks who were first overall in the league.

“are you sure you don’t want to just rest?”

“i’m watching a game, not playing it,” he laughed, and his lips pressed against the side of your head as he held you close to him. “and besides,” he said with a smile as he looked at you. you who always made sure he was okay. you who probably would’ve dropped the gloves (metaphorically speaking) with svechnikov yourself for hitting him if given the opportunity. you who he loved more than anyone else in the world.

“i feel better already.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[tkaulitzlvr]

Can I please request tom overworking a bit and distancing himself from his girlfriend (reader) and then she kind of goes to him while he's busy and has a breakdown and its comfort and fluff?

TIRED - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom has been more busy than usual with the band, not realising that by doing this, he has distanced himself from you. when you try talk to him, he finally breaks down.

content: fluff.

a/n: i wasn’t sure if u wanted tom or reader to have the breakdown, but i assumed tom, if u meant the reader i’m so sorry anon, but nonetheless thank you so much for the request!!

“hey my love, how was work?” i ask as tom trudges through the door, closing it with a loud thud. i don’t know why i bother asking him, i know that i’ll get minimal response, exactly as i have the past couple of weeks. yet he has acted like everything is fine, brushing me off when i ask what’s going on, so i have given up trying, slowly coming to the conclusion that it is something to do with me. perhaps he is becoming tired of me, and doesn’t want to be with me anymore - and that thought completely terrifies me. so i stay quiet, deciding that being with a distant tom who doesn’t feel the same about me is better than losing him altogether.

“fine.” he mutters, walking into the living room and seeing me sat on the couch, bending down to place a quick kiss on my forehead before leaving the room, going god knows where. this had become routine now - he would briefly let me know he was home, either giving me a quick hug or kissing me on my forehead, instead of the extreme levels of affection he would usually show. that was how my suspicions started. normally, he would come home, showering me with kisses, touching me in some way whilst letting me know how his day was, then ask how mine was, listening intently to every word that i would say. but, that all came to an end as i would be lucky to get a kiss on the lips before he would go to the kitchen or straight to bed, the most affection i receive being when he loosely wraps his arm around my waist whilst he sleeps every night.

i exit the living room, looking for tom and, staying true to that routine, i find him laid down in bed, his eyes empty and tired as he stares at the ceiling, his hoodie now off as he lays in some oversized basketball shorts.

he is aware of my presence, yet stays silent, refusing to even look at me as i stand in the door frame, watching him intently, wondering what went wrong, or, what i had done wrong to make him fall out of love with me - my mind now set on that idea as it is the only logical explanation it can come up with for his stand-offishness.

“do you still love me?” i speak into the silence, tom’s head shooting up as i say the words, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“what? of course i love you. why would you think that i don’t?” his voice is calm, laced with bewilderment, clearly wondering how i could ask such a question.

i can tell that he is sincere, meaning everything that he says, making me doubt my initial reasoning for his distance as i begin to feel a little stupid for thinking that he had fallen out of love with me. though the confirmation that i hadn’t done anything wrong only puzzled me more, making tom’s coldness towards me even more of a mystery.

i realise that i have been quiet for a little too long, tom’s eyes still looking into mine, his head raised from the pillow as he awaits my answer. i shake my head, forcing a small smile. “nothing. it’s just me being paranoid, sorry.”

he tilts his head to the side, not convinced at all.

“you sure?” he asks, this being the longest conversation we had in days, tom never wanting to engage in anything, instead offering short, one word answers. he still seems distant, but i can tell that my question clearly came as a surprise, this reassuring me a little.

i nod my head, walking to the bed and climbing in beside him, a strange tension between us as we lay in silence.

“goodnight.” he mutters, draping his arm over my stomach, still remaining a little far from me instead of his whole body being against me as it usually would be, my mind searching for answers as i am left completely confused, nothing adding up. i try to shake it off, hearing tom’s breathing slow from behind me, indicating that he has fallen asleep as i try to do the same, knowing that i am determined to get something out of him, even if it is the smallest detail that would help me piece together why he has started to act like this - now able to rule out it being my fault.

the door opens and closes, slamming a little louder than it usually does as the noise sounds throughout the house. i expect tom to show his face, come into the living room and give me a small reminder of his affection, before trudging off again. but, much to my surprise, he doesn’t even do that, marching straight up the stairs as a frustrated huff escapes his mouth, his steps loud and exaggerated, telling me that whatever is going on in his life certainly isn’t getting any easier. he had never gotten this angry, always making sure he said hey, even if it was just for a second, but i didn’t even see his face this time, letting me know that he is much more upset than usual.

although i can’t ignore the slight pang of fear from within me as i walk up the stairs to talk to him, i stay strong, just about done with his unexplained distance, wanting to get to the bottom of it. i hear the sound of his guitar from our bedroom, the door fully shut as his cursing momentarily shouts over the melody. my hand reaches for the door, hesitating a little as it hovers over the wood, before pressing my knuckles against it a few times.

my fingers clasp around the handle, turning it and pulling the door open. tom looks up for a second, seeing me standing there, before turning his attention back to the guitar, roughly strumming the strings.

“you okay?” i softly ask, slightly hurt at his ignorance, but this is about him not me, so i brush it off, accepting it as a small burst of his frustration. whilst he shouldn’t take it out on me, i know that the last thing he needs is me scolding him.

“great.” he mutters sarcastically, not looking up from the guitar that rests on his lap as he continues to fiddle with the strings, groaning with frustration as he throws his head back, his jaw clenched. he notices me still standing by the door, rolling his eyes slightly, visibly irritated by my presence.

“do you need something?” he sighs, aggravation plastered on his face as he stares at me, eyes cold and strangely foreign, no care within them as it is suddenly obvious he wants nothing more than for me to leave him alone.

i am slightly hurt at his words, the harshness of them stinging my chest as my expression softens, eyes becoming glossy. i look to the floor, not liking the idea of him to see me become so easily upset from his outburst, wanting to appear stronger, but i know that my sadness is evident.

his face softens as he puts his guitar to the side of him on the bed, finally feeling guilty for taking out his frustration on me.

“god i’m sorry- i didn’t mean it like that.” he begins, his voice much softer than before.

my sadness soon turns to anger as i am now completely tired of the way he has treated me, not able to handle his coldness any longer.

“then how did you mean it tom? ‘cause these past few weeks all you’ve done is shut me out! i’ve asked you what’s wrong so many times, and you lie to me over and over again. can you please just talk to me? i’m tired of feeling like i’m fighting just to have a conversation with you.” i pour my heart out, noticing the way his expression falters, eyes darting around the room as tears begin to form a glassy blanket over them.

he looks down into his lap, playing with the material of his hoodie, bouncing his leg up and down against the floor, this something he does whenever he is anxious.

“well? you know i’m here for you, so why are you leaving me in the dark? this isn’t fair tom, i want to help you but you won’t let me in.” i continue, yet his eyes remain fixed on the floor, his body tensed up.

“i’m sorry.” he mumbles, his voice shaky as i soon realise that he is crying. his quiet sniffles escape his mouth after he has uttered those two words, his shoulders shaking as he sobs.

my heart clenches at the sight, wishing i could somehow take away his pain and make it my own, hating to see him upset. i rush over to him, sitting beside him on the bed and quickly pulling him into me as he sobs into my shoulder. his arms wrap around my back, clutching onto me so tightly it is hard to breathe, but right now, the only thing on my mind is comforting him, and i will do anything to be there for him.

“talk to me baby. what’s going on with you?” i whisper gently, my fingers playing with the end of his cornrows as his breathing speeds up, his tears falling onto my t-shirt.

he tries to speak, but his words are masked by his sobs, completely incoherent.

“shhh, just calm down first, we’ll talk once you’re settled, mhm?” i say, moving backwards so that i am laying flat against the bed, tom wrapping both arms around my waist as he continues to cry into my shoulder. my nails run up and down his back, this something i would do when he couldn’t sleep to relax him, but right now it seems to be working as his cries begin to slow, his breathing returning to it’s normal rate.

“you ready to talk?” i ask, looking downwards at him as he removes his head from my shoulder for the first time, his eyes red and bloodshot, lips curved into a slight frown.

he nods, sitting up a little, his arms still securely around my waist.

“it’s just- work has been so stressful. tour is coming up so soon, and rehearsals are just so tiring, and i keep fucking it up!” he sighs, his voice wavering as he comes to the end of his speech, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i don’t want to let the guys down, they’ve worked so hard and i’m just ruining it all. maybe i should just quit, i’m clearly not good-”

“woah, hey, slow down a little. you know none of that’s true. you’re the most talented person i know, stop doubting yourself. you’re human, you’re going to make mistakes. but that doesn’t mean you should stop doing what you love. you know that i’ll always believe in you.” i say, looking into his eyes as his thumb begins to move in small circles on my stomach.

“you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my girlfriend and you have to.” he sighs.

“i’m saying this because i love you and i hate it when you doubt yourself so much. it should matter more coming from me, because i know you better than all of the people that doubt you.” i remind him, a little hurt at the fact that he thinks i’m lying.

“what if i fuck up and make us lose our rhythm? it’ll ruin an entire concert, and then it’s all on me.” he says, maintaining eye contact as i sigh, in complete disbelief of how someone so talented can have so little faith in their own ability.

“has that ever happened before?” i ask, already knowing the answer, needing to hear him admit it.

he shakes his head slowly.

“exactly. so what’s overworking yourself and getting stressed out going to achieve? you’re only gonna make it worse. you need to take a break.” i reply, seeing the way that he is tearing himself apart, hating himself for making the smallest of mistakes. “besides, i think i deserve to have you to myself for a couple days. i’ve missed you a lot you know.”

a small smile tugs on his lips as he reaches upwards, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. pulling back to rest his forehead against mine, one hand cupping my cheek.

“you’re right schatz.” he begins. “i’m really sorry for how distant i’ve been. none of this is your fault, i just shut myself off and that isn’t fair on you.”

he kisses my lips again, tightening his hold on me before moving back, a soft smile on his face as he pulls me onto his lap, his arms securely around my waist.

“this weekend…” he trains off, a suggestive grin playing on his lips as he gives my waist a gentle squeeze. “just me and you. we’ll do whatever you want. how’s that sound?”

“anything?” i tease, looking into his eyes playfully as he lets out a small laugh.

“anything.” he repeats, seeing the way my face lights up in excitement. “but…i want just one thing in return.”

he says the last part slowly, and the way his eyes narrow, a playful look of lust present within them, i know exactly what he means, hitting his arm and shaking my head, glad to finally have my boyfriend back, loving every part of him - even the sex obsessed, overly horny side, not wanting to trade any of it for the world.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Female reader x top lady lesso with strap, at the end of it all readers shaking, out of breathe, can't really move anymore is what I been asking for the longest

Hey hey hey anon! You asked & I’ll gladly deliver. Added ask @ladylessowife —‘Could you maybe do 48 with Lesso pls?’ Hope you all Enjoy ♥️

I’ll Rock Your World ~Top!Lady Lesso xFem Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#48. “Watch your mouth...”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, overstimulation, eating out, strap-fucking, kissing, praise kink, lovely aftercare, etc.

Enjoy (;

“No one’s ever made you climax? Like only yourself…??” Lesso surprisingly asked you.

“Yep. None of my past partners or hookups have ever been able to… you know…”

“Make you cum?” Lesso bluntly stated.

Blush crept up your cheeks lightly.

Maybe this wasn’t the best thing to confess to the woman you’d been seeing but hadn’t been intimate with yet…

“Yeah…” you admitted in a whisper.

Lesso stared at you with her mouth agape. But she also noted your sensitivity to the subject.

“Wow… I mean, I’m sorry no one’s been able to please you well…” she comforted.

You shrugged your shoulders.

“I’ve just come to the conclusion that I do it best.”

At this, the red head cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, I just know my body better than they all did, I guess.”

“Watch your mouth...” Lesso teasingly warned you, “Don’t challenge me, baby…”

“What…?” You chuckled.

“I’d have you cumming over and over again until your body goes limp…” Lesso confidently purred.

“Don’t be so sure…” you mumbled.

Lesso then got up and walked over to you, cupping your chin and raising it to her standing form.

“If you decide to give me that chance, I would most definitely.” She lovingly purred.

“Thank you, Baby…” you whispered, smiling lovingly up at her.

~~~

Throughout the next week, you thought about what Lesso had said. And the whole idea made you curious.

Dating the one and only dean of evil was one thing…

Fucking the one and only dean of evil was a whole added thing…

But you wanted the woman. Even if your expectations were let down once again. You wanted to try.

So, that evening, you walked into Lesso’s office with an agenda on your mind. You closed the door behind you and plopped yourself right in the red heads lap.

“Hey…!” Lesso playfully exclaimed, “I’m working he—!”

Your lips were on hers before she could finish her statement. Your lips kissed the red heads with fervor and passion, which Lesso eagerly reciprocated. Your hips ground into her lap, and the red heads hands eagerly gripped your hips to aid your grindings. You both needily moaned into the kiss.

Eventually, you both had to pull away for oxygen. Lesso was staring at you with a big fucking smirk and wide eyes.

“God, you’re allowed to interrupt my work anytime now, baby…” she breathlessly groaned.

You giggled lightly, not stopping your grindings into her lap.

“I’m ready. I want you…” you whispered, attaching your hot mouth to the red heads pressure point.

Lesso let out a guttural groan as her head flung back. But she was quick to check herself as she processed your words.

“Are you sure, Baby…?” She breathlessly asked.

You bit your lip and nodded, going to crash your lips back into the red heads eagerly, but you were stopped by her hand.

“There’s no need to rush…” She purred, “Let me take care of you…”

“Ok…” you panted, your heart racing.

“First things first, if I do something you don’t like and want me to change say ‘yellow’, and if you just want me to stop all together say ‘red’… Understand?”

“I understand…”

Lesso smiled at your agreement. She then scooped you up and carried you to her private quarters, dropping you below her on her bed.

“What do you want, Baby…?” She taunted.

“I… Fuck me—please…” you stuttered.

Lesso’s eyes twinkled with lust.

“Alright, I’ll be right back…”

Lesso left to go into her closet, and she came back out in nothing but her undergarments and her blue strap-on dick. You eyes widened and you bit your lip, nodding eagerly. But the red head tutted you off.

“Not yet, Baby… First, I want to taste you.”

Her words made you melt on the spot. You immediately stripped off all your clothes and opened your legs wide for the blonde.

“Someone’s eager aren’t they…?” Lesso teased.

You playfully stuck your tongue out in response, but your face quickly contorted into a silent scream of pleasure when Lesso caught you off guard by swiftly sliding her tongue through your folds. The red head continued to lap away at your folds, slowly building to your climax.

“Oh, OHHhHhhhH—!!” You moaned out, grasping Lesso’s red hair tightly.

“Hmmmm, you like that baby…?” The red head taunted.

You nodded vigorously.

“Please… whatever you’re doing… don’t stop…!!” You whimpered.

Lesso lowered her mouth back down to your heat.

“Oh baby…” she chuckled, “I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon…”

That skilled tongue of Lesso’s edged you all the way right up to the edge of your high.

“You gonna cum for me, Baby…?” She lustfully cooed.

Your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“Yes yes, so close please please Leo—!!”

“Uh uh, eyes open, baby…”

You opened your hooded eyes and the view of the red head in between your legs sent you over the edge.

~~~

“I… God Fuck me Leo please—!!” You whimpered.

You couldn’t take anymore of her teasing, skilled tongue. You wanted to be filled by her. Fully.

“Alright, Baby…” The red head lustfully chuckled.

~~~

You cried out in pleasurable pain as Lesso continued to pound into you through your upteenth orgasm of the night.

“Yesss Baby…” the red head lustfully hissed, “I know my dick feels so good…”

Your mouth spewed more incoherent mewls and cries, your hands fisted in the bed sheets, and your head rolled back in overwhelming pleasure.

“But why are you crying…?” She taunted, “Isn’t this what you asked for?”

You let out a guttural moan as the woman hit that sweet spot deep inside you, and you nodded vigorously.

“Do you want me to stop…?” Lesso wickedly purred, “See, i don’t think you do… Not by the way your juices are spilling out of your cunt… Not by the way your crying out my name…”

“No no no don’t stop GOD don’t stop—!!” You cried out.

Lesso continued to rut into you with skill, only pushing you further to your next climax.

“That’s okay, Baby… Keep crying and I’ll let you cum on my dick as many times as you’d like…” She purred.

You merely mewled and nodded in response.

“My pretty crybaby…” Lesso cooed.

~~~

You didn’t usually like being proved wrong, but in this case… so worth it.

You were still shaking and all trembly as Lesso finally put the strap away. She came up to you, pulling you close to her so that she could properly clean you up. She gently washed your thighs clean and you spasmed every once and a while from how sensitive you were. Your breathing was labored and still extremely out of it.

“Shhhhh, You did so good, baby, so good…” the red head cooed, cleaning around your heat with a warm rag.

Afterwards, the red head pulled you into her form, causing you to whine slightly at your sore figure being moved.

“Shhhhhh, just cuddle into me, sweet girl…” she cooed.

You were quick to fall asleep in the red hair’s arms.

~~~

Lady Leonora Lesso Masterlist

[erwinsmithsmissingleftarm]

Your imagines are all a girl could need <3

Okay so picture you and Reiner in the THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED trope

You’re not together yet, but in this situation he just cannot keep his hands to himself

You just wanted a black hole to swallow you whole.

You were actually lying in bed with the man you had a huge crush on for years. You don't even know how it really happened, you two just stopped at a small hostel after a long mission, tired and simply wishing for a good night of sleep. Neither of you or Reiner could know that the only room available for this night would have a single bed. Just one bed for both of you. That surprise was only discovered when you already paid for the room and entered inside.

"There must be a mistake, there can't be just one bed, right?"

Oh boy how fast you came to the conclusion that no, you would have to sleep together. At first, Reiner said he could sleep on the floor and leave the bed for you but you refused. How can you let the poor and exhausted man sleep on the hard and cold floor? It's not like the idea of sleeping with Reiner did not please you. On the contrary, god only knows how many times you imagined yourself into his strong and gentle embrace. Not just in the sexual way, just a hug was enough to make you happy. That's why now that your bodies are very close, almost touching each other, you feel the lump excitement in your stomach grow. It is useless to say that you could not close your eyes, the sensation of warmth spreading through your belly.

You are so close to him... a single move and your skin enter in contact with his. You feel him turn around; the bed slightly cracking. Are you crazy or you can feel his breath on your neck? Next thing you know, his hands slowly wrap around your waist, pressing your back against his chest.

"Reiner?" You ask.

Your voice is not louder than a whisper, being careful to not wake up the man in case he is just clingy in his sleep and does not realize what he is doing. However, he replies with a low grunt showing that he is half-asleep. A few second later, his hand slide up to cup one of your breasts. A shiver runs down your spine as his big hand squeeze your chest, making you moan.

"Reiner..." You say louder, dragging him out of his sleep.

You can't see his face but by the way that he immediately removes his arms show that he is deeply embarrassed.

"Oh my god- I'm so sorry!"

Turning your head to the side, you see his mortified face. Reiner is clearly shocked and angry after himself. He is about to let out another apology when you shush him with your finger.

"That's fine."

Reiner's eyes almost popped out of his head when those words came out of your mouth. Who would be okay with being touched by another person (who is not his partner but a friend!)? You quickly turn red, feeling like you have to explain yourself. There is not 34 ways to say it so you just go with the most easy and honest one.

"I mean... I like you. I have a crush on you since we were just graduating from the training camp. So, I... do not dislike your touch."

The next few seconds are the longest ones of your life. You either get rejected and gross Reiner out forever or you actually get lucky and maybe get him as your boyfriend. The silence is killing you, your eyes focusing on the other's.

"I... like you too."

His words hit you like a truck, your brain freezing. Did he really just confessed that your feelings are mutual? A sensation of euphoria wash over you as he shyly hugs you. You just lay there, in each other's arms and smiling. Soon your lips finds his and you share a slow kiss, his hands creep back under your shirt.

You kept your clothes one before going to bed but now you gladly accept his fingers unclasping your bra. You press your bare chest against his, a bit self-conscious at the beginning but you forget about it as soon as his lips touch your neck. You fantasmed about him for so long and now everything was happening so fast! His lips leave a bruning trail to your chest, leaving hickeys on your boobs before his mouth go farther to the south. Reiner removes your pants, pushing your completely wet panties to the side.

A moan escape your lips as his tongue tease your clitoris, licking your moist cunt. His hands keep your legs spread while he eats you out, each of your sounds giving Reiner more confidence. Your back arches and your legs shake without control, the loop of pleasure present in your stomach tightening. A few moments later, you push your hips off the bed as you orgasm, your eyes rolling at the back of your head. You only hear the sound of his pant's zipper and you know, it's only the beginning.

A smile curl your lips, Reiner is yours.

[coffeeandbatboys]

Where Your Road Leads

Pairing: Fives x Fem!Reader, platonic Torrent (Kix, Jesse & Rex) x reader, platonic Echo x reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, temporary spousal death, pregnancy, fluff, language, throwing up...I think that's all

A/N this is possibly my longest one shot ever...

A knock sounds on your door.

Kix.

You'd been expecting him for the last two hours and he’s just now made it to your home. You open the door with every nerve buzzing.

“Kix, what took—”

You pause in fear when his face reveals only sadness and guilt.

“What's going on?” You demand, ushering the medic inside.

“I'm so sorry, vod'ika.” Is all he can manage with tears gathering in his eyes. Fives. Something bad happened to Fives. You’ve heard the report that he'd tried to kill the Chancellor, and that he was wanted by the Corries. But you thought he'd be safe with Rex. After all, the captain had been worried about him when he stopped by earlier.

“Kix.” You repeat. “Where's Fives?”

The medic takes a deep breath.

“He’s been,” he chokes on a shaky breath and his already unstable voice lowers to a whisper. “killed.”

Your knees buckle beneath you and you want to throw up. You stumble to the ‘fresher, Kix following behind to hold your hair as you empty the contents of your stomach.

“Oh, maker! No….fuck no.” You cry, dry heaving now. “There's no way.”

Kix runs a hand over his face to hide the haunted look in his eyes.

It takes a few minutes for your breathing to calm down. “And the test?” You quietly ask the question you've been dreading since he came in. It’s the reason you were expecting him, after all.

He turns to face you.

“Conclusive. You're two months pregnant.”

For the next six months, Torrent is always a comm away. Kix stopping in to make sure you're eating well enough to support both you and the baby, and Jesse helping you set up a nursery. Rex goes with you to most of your appointments if he can. You're grateful to have a family, even if they're not blood, and even if you and Fives weren't officially ‘married’. He’s still your husband, and they're your family.

It still hurts to wake up with a cold back where there would normally be the warmth of his chest, pressed against it, and anything that reminds you of Fives in your apartment remains untouched

When Echo is brought back, he finds out all about what happened and decides that the Bad Batch can wait. For now, he needs to uphold a promise that he'd made to Fives when the two of you first got together. If anything were to happen to a domino twin and his significant other was left behind, the remaining brother would take care of them. Even with the looming realization that his best friend is dead, Echo couldn't be more excited to be an uncle.

A year and a half later, you're sitting at the table, reading about the Chancellor’s ‘accidental' death and a subsequently revealed plot to kill the Jedi via the GAR, when you hear the front door open. Echo must be back with little Fiv'ika from the store earlier than expected.

But the footfalls that find their way into the kitchen aren’t mechanical like Echo's, and there's no excited babbling from your son.

You turn to see just who had let themselves into your house and—

Well…damn. This is new.

Fives is standing in the doorway. His curls are a little longer and his shoulders hang a bit, but he still has that light in his eyes, and his goatee is kept the way he always used to do it, and the tattoo is on the same spot that it always was.

You don't trust your eyes with the image. He can't be alive. He would have been here this whole time if he was alive.

It’s only when he speaks that you accept that he's here.

“Ner runi…” he murmurs, and you cross the distance to throw your arms around him. He's warm and soft and above all, he's real.

“Fives!” You cry, bitter tears rolling down your cheeks. “Where the hell have you been? You were dead!”

Instead of letting him answer, you grab his face and crash your lips against his. He returns the kiss with a relieved hum and tugs you closer. When you pull away, he wipes a few tears off your cheek with a calloused thumb, and his own eyes become glossy.

“I went in deep cover to investigate the chancellor. Commanders Cody and Fox are the only ones who know that I'm alive at all.”

The front door opens again, and this time it’s the sounds of your laughing child and Echo announcing “We’re home!”

Fives, however, stills with panic and pulls away from you.

“Osik,” he curses himself. “I should have realized that you could have moved on.”

I didn't.” You cut him off. “I didn't move on. You're in for the surprise of your life, Babe.”

His eyebrows scrunch as Echo and Fiv'ika enter the room. Echo stops in his tracks when he registers Fives’ face and you silently take the child from his arms.

“Firstly I want you to meet your son, Fives Jr., or as we call him, Fiv'ika.”

Fives’ eyes go wide and his knees suddenly feel shaky. He's not sure that he trusts his voice, but he tries anyways.

“You had our first kid and I wasn't there? Oh, maker. Fuck.” he brings a hand to cover his mouth, and tears spill over his cheeks. He falls to his knees and looks up at you.

“Ni ceta, Mesh'la. I don't know what to say…”

You shake your head and tug on his sleeve, silently asking him to get up. You wrap one arm around the love of your life and press your temple to his, while the other arm holds your son.

“It’s okay. You whimper. “We’re here. Were together.”

Fiv’ika reaches tiny hands up to grab his father’s goatee. Fives lets out a wounded noise and kisses your cheek.

You pull away for a second.

“Secondly, you’ll want to see who’s been helping me.”

Confusion crosses his face and you look over to Echo, who’s been standing outside the doorway of the kitchen.

“Who is….” Fives trails off, eyes locking on his twin. “Echo?”

The paler clone’s eyes fill with tears and he nods.

“Su cuy’gar, Fives.”

Your husband gives your shoulder a squeeze and rushes towards his brother with open arms. The two quickly fall into a sobbing embrace and you watch, practically beaming.

“I would ask how you’re alive but if I survived being blown up I’m pretty sure that it’s not that hard.” Echo laughs.

Fives only looks horrified. “I am so sorry to both of you. I should have been there-”

“Hey,” you stop him, moving next to both of them, Fiv’ika in between. “We’re safe.”

Fives pulls you all together in a hug, mumbling “I love you all so much.” He’s holding his entire world—his wife, his son, and his twin brother—in his arms, and he’ll be damned if he’s letting any of you go soon.

Mando'a translations:

Vod'ika: Younger sibling

Ner runi: My soul

Osik: Shit

Ni ceta: I'm sorry; I kneel

Su cuy'gar: Hello; You're alive

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (4/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

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Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 4: No brakes, just love!

Austria

When you arrive at the pitlane in Spielberg, you notice a couple of heads turning towards you on your way to the W garage after your long absence.

Toto's eyes look intensely at you as you cross past the Mercedes' garage. Yes, he looks mad. Oh boy, that's one conversation you want to avoid having so bad.

—Did all go well? —Michael asks you as he greets you with a hug once you get in there; he is standing next to Millie's car, and his wording takes you slightly by surprise; you look at him, somewhat alarmed, as a different idea crosses your mind. —Your business trips, I mean —he clarifies as he notices your confused face.

—Oh, that, yes, the business trips, yeah, all good. Thank you! —you change topics as fast as possible, not wishing to lie to Michael. —Have I missed much?

—Well, it got interesting to say so.

—What?

He turns you around and nods towards a hurt-looking Charles Leclerc supervising his Ferrari car, crunched and pointing something while talking to a mechanic.

Charles has his hands covered in bandages, and his face is all bruised. What on earth! You lock eyes with him, and he looks surprised to see you there, then frowns at you slightly. You point your index finger to the left, and he gets your "See you in that narrow corridor where no one will see us."

—WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU!? —You rush to take a good look at him when he catches your step, honestly concerned.

—That's what I asked myself! By "See you soon," you meant in four weeks! Good thing you didn't say, "See you in a while"!

—I'm sorry.

—Yeah, you better be! I texted you god knows how many times!

—I know, I'm sorry.

—Yeah, I'm really pissed at you, Y/N!

You look down at the floor, fucking sad. Charles notices it.

—But I'm even more glad and grateful to have you back —Charles pulls you into a tight hug, avoiding pressuring his bandaged hands against your body. —You had me worried.

You take a good peek at those.

—Second-degree burns on each. Something wrong went with my car; they are still investigating it. I lost brakes and control of her; thank god there wasn't a concrete wall or metal barrier and fence nearby, just rows of bumpers and forest beyond; a part at the front of the car caught fire due to the extreme friction, and that burned me.

You look at him, very pale, with your eyes widened.

—I know, I get what could have happened, but it didn't —Charles looks away with watery eyes. —So, let's move on. I'm not stopping racing.

You wipe a tear coming down your face.

—Oh no, no, I'm fine. It will take a minute, but I will be ready for the Dutch GP.

—Like a turkey put in an oven.

—I'll be fully cooked by then!

You both laugh; you missed your silly times with Charles so much. You picture him in a puffy turkey costume, struggling to get inside his car, not fitting.

—I'm glad you are alright; well, you know what I mean. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when you needed it.

—It's okay, you are now.

-

Hi, honey! Yeah, no... Hi! Toto!? No! Once more... Hello Tots! Better! Remember that time when we fucked the shit out of each other, and then I disappeared for weeks? I'm back now! How is it going, my love? Yeah, like any of that is going to work.

You wait for the rest of the Mercedes team to leave their garage to slowly approach him, taking your time with each step, fighting your urge to run away.

—A text would have been nice —He tells you as soon as he feels you near, his eyes reading a graph slide on his iPad. Okay, that's a really icy tone.

—I'm sorry. I...

—Uhmju. So... —he closes the tablet's case, gets on his feet, fully upright, his height towering over you, and leans against the control center table, looking straight at you. —Business trips, huh? —he crosses his muscular arms. —Where have you really been? —Even if you are that nervous, you can't avoid peeking at his attractive flexed biceps.

—In Belgium. I had a personal emergency.

—What happened? —he swifts his tone to slightly concerned.

—I can't tell you.

He frowned at your answer, which was not good enough for him.—I see. It's not like it matters that you vanished for a month without a trace or warning and that didn't answer any of my worried calls or my sleepless late-night texts —Toto says.

—Toto, I-

—It's not like you have to explain a thing to me. It's not like I worried anyway —Toto interrupts you with a lot of sarcasm, moving to place his things inside his briefcase. —Well, I do really have a business trip to go. Excuse me —he passes you by, inches away, dodging your body.

He leaves you standing there, alone in the now empty Mercedes' garage. —I'm happy to see you —you say softly to yourself as you watch him walk further away in the distance, feeling you are about to cry.

How can his voice go from soft and sweet to sexy and guttural to authoritarian and commanding to this condescending and cold one? It needs to be studied.

-

The following day, Toto is nowhere to be seen. Sam notices you glancing around the paddock, looking for him near the Merc area. You don't feel like losing him, and you are there to try again to offer him an apology.

—He is in Germany. He will be here later —she tells you as she reaches you after exiting the Mercedes hospitality. —Hi! We didn't have a chance to talk yesterday; it's been crazy days for this team! How did it go?

—He is so mad at me anyways —you let out very sad. Sam can't avoid feeling sorry for you, which you notice and hate. 

—He has been under much pressure lately; we are still in P3 at Constructors and Drivers, and we got disqualified in Canada to add more to his stress.

—What?!

—Tecnicallities and human errors, which had him fuming. Plus, all the drama in his personal life with you missing.

—And the Sussie drama, too, probably.

—Sussie's drama?! —she looks at you perplexed, like a second head had grown from your neck.

—I had dinner at Lewis before Matthew's call. He mentioned at the table that she was staying with him at his place in Monaco; he made it sound like they were still in a relationship but on rocky times.

—Toto is not that type —Sam reassures a slightly insecure-looking you. —I would ask him about it, but he no longer confides in me. By the way, now Toto knows when I lie —that's why Samanta hates letting his walls down; it makes her more vulnerable to others. —You don't know how many times he asked me things; I denied knowing what was going on with you or where you were every time, but not once he believed me. It got worse when he noticed a nervous Niki looking straight at me whenever he came to inquire. So it will be best if you let me out of the loop, but only a bit, eh?

You look stunned at her; wow, Toto did really know Sam; reading her was so difficult. Then you move to answer her previous question, informing her: —The plan is still on track, with no significant alterations. We ran a couple of scenarios with the tactics department, and it all went well; even Pascal joined us to give his input. It felt weird to be back at the manor, like somehow I didn't belong there anymore; I missed my new life and you guys so fucking much!

—Pascal went to the manor?! —Sam's eyebrows go up in the air, stunned.

—No, no, he joined us in a secure call line. You know Matt doesn't allow him there; plus, he is still under house arrest in Hungary.

—Oh yeah, I forgot about that; it's been a while —Sam scratches her head. —Are you nervous?

—Yes.

—I will be there by your side —she squeezes your hand.

—Oh no, I don't want you even near all that.

—And everyone missed you too! The group was worried!

-

It hits you differently now, by how things turned out. 

But you can't avoid thinking that you are in Toto's homeland, which makes your mind wander to the dangerous thoughts you have been avoiding all day. 

All those what-ifs? 

What if you hadn't left? 

What if Toto wasn't mad at you? 

What if he had taken you to a romantic dinner in Vienna? 

What if he had shown you his favorite places from growing up? 

You also can't escape the thought of Toto's family. 

What if they showed up? 

What if you had met them? 

What if you got introduced to them? 

Of course, none of this will happen because you two aren't a thing yet. You killed your chances, and now you two are just friends who slept with each other and desire one another, but just that. 

Oh god, you pray you two aren't really just that. 

You screwed things with Toto so fast, don't you? It happened sooner than you expected to.

-

It's late. Toto arrives at his remote office straight from the jet in the late afternoon and stays working till dark. He has several papers to read and sign and essential things to approve; he needs quietness and no one bothering or interrupting, which is impossible during work hours. He sees you walk past behind the tinted windows of his headquarters. It is unusual for you to be around at these hours.

The lane is empty, and your heels sound louder than they should. All building facades remain lit, and only a couple of rooms inside them have the lights on for those late stayers, making the paddock feel less lonely than it should as you rush to your car on your way out. It was a tough day and an awful one.

Toto grabs his things and tries to reach you; he is angry and stressed, but it is not all your fault. He closes the door loudly, on purpose. You turn around at the sound, jumping a bit. He is about to crack a joke to ease things and come closer waving a peace flag but notices your red eyes from crying. His expression changes to one of honest concern.

—Shit —you let out softly, under your breath. He is the last person you want to meet in this state.

He comes close and stares at you for a good second. You don't say a word, and he tightly wraps you in his arms. He is warm and smells so good. You bury your head in his chest and meld in his embrace. He rests his chin on the top of your head; the height difference makes it comfortable for him.

—Feel like talking about it? —Toto says sweetly.

—No.

—Okay, it's all good. You don't have to. Can I hold you till you feel better?

—Yes, please —you softly sob; you feel like a little girl in his arms. He makes you feel like that all the time. You are only a couple of years younger than him. But he is such a grown-up in your eyes. And you are a fragile, weak thing on the constant verge of breakdown.

You cry in his arms, and he wipes and kisses your tears away. You melt inside. This man is too much.

He carries you in his arms inside the modern Mercedes building to the unlit, empty lobby; you two cuddle on the floor, Toto's back against the hallway wall, on top of the silver arrows logo carpet, and you lay on his chest, your legs crossing his.

Toto apologizes: —I shouldn't have said those things like that, but I was sore.

—I understand where it comes from. It's okay, I get it. I missed you so much —you let Toto know; he leans his forehead on yours, noses touching too.

And you kiss. You feel Toto's warm and soothing lips on yours, and you two start to tenderly and sweetly make out; it's warm, wet, and intimate, and when you are to caress his neck with your hand, almost out of breath but not able to stop, he suddenly breaks it off, taking you by surprise. 

—We should leave; we don't want fines on our way for overstaying. Stay with me tonight.

You nod, agreeing.

-

It's an exquisite bathroom the one in his hotel suite, with white walls decorated with the French boiserie technique and polished marble white floors with ornamental gold flowers hand-painted on the large tiles. Tall windows let the light enter behind the light curtains. A large frame mirror with gold edges sits against the wall and over the floor.

You two share the white bathtub, a 19th-century piece with gold leaf borders; you are happily placed on top of him inside it in the warm water, rubbing the expensive bamboo mesh loofah on his naked chest while he lets you know every detail about his trip to Germany and the crazy weeks he had while placing small kisses on your shoulders, neck, and mouth every once in a while. 

After that relaxing and repairing scented bath, you make it to the bed, and since all your things are in your hotel room, you steal one of his t-shirts as pajamas, both knowing quite well it's too tempting that you sleep butt naked on top his mattress, you both have to wake up early the following morning, and it's been a hectic day. Still, you decide not to wear underwear beneath it.

You make yourself comfortable on his bare firm chest, tracing small circles with your fingers on his pecks; Toto is only wearing tight navy blue and light fabric boxers, which make his bulge look so fine down there; you feel him pat your ass skin softly; and placing his large hand there before falling asleep.

If none of you were this tired and this emotionally drained right now, you would be about to reach an orgasm at this point.

-

You wake up early and share the room-service breakfast you ordered; you give Toto some of your fruit to his mouth, and he shares with you his salmon bagel; emotions always open the appetite before leaving the room with enough time to arrive at the circuit, you need to make a stop at your hotel before heading to the track. 

When the SUV arrives at the drop-off entrance in front of the hotel's baroque facade, Toto pulls you into a kiss in the backseat, leaving you gasping for more before you exit the car.

—We still have free time, so —you whisper against his lips.

He smiles at you. Toto drags you to the elevators faster than an F1 car.

-

You both enter your hotel suite and go straight to the bed, clothes getting out in the way on your path.

He spreads you on your knees, on all fours, on top of the mattress, at the border of the bed, while he fucks you doggy style while on his feet. You bounce against his hard cock, skin slapping, moans coming out from both sides when the tip of his dick hits the spot inside you. Every time, more desperate strokes. He slaps you on the ass. His open palm hits your right ass cheek, leaving a mark. 

Then he grabs you firmly by the hips, adding pressure, and starts to give it to you harder and faster. You can't stop moaning from the pleasure. You are being so loud, but you don't care; you feel done holding back or hiding any emotions that man makes you feel.

What Toto does to you next is unholy. He runs his hands along your arms till he reaches your palms, then wraps them around his own neck to make you support yourself, provoking you to arch your back. His free left hand caresses your chin and neck, then softly chokes you, making you turn your face to look straight at him. 

Holding you in that position, he starts playing with his tongue inside your mouth. He licks your lips and bites them while adding pressure against your hips and buries his right fingernails in your right soft tigh. He is as inside you as he can. He is aching for you more every second. 

He starts rocking himself against you, hitting your pussy and ass faster this time around. He has you moaning incoherently. The rhythm is so good; he fucks you in that position for a while till you start to feel so warm inside with each penetration; he is hard as fuck. And you feel you can't keep it together any longer. The pleasure is unbelievable. And you want to release. You start begging him to stop, well knowing you mean don't you dare! —Baby, I can't! Baby! I can't take it anymore! —You feel a hot sensation running down your legs. —Toto! —you moan as you start squirting all over your thighs and his.

—Fuck! —he growls, almost bestially, against your ear, getting drunk on your sents and fluids.

He shifts his whole body weight against yours, slowly pushing and pinning you down, your tummy against the mattress. Toto extends your arms and intertwines your hands and fingers with his in a sort of arrow position, completely topping you, rocking his hips in circles against your ass; you feel buried under his weight till Toto moans intense cumming noises to your ear, those noises drive you mad. He sounds so hot when he finishes.

—Stay in —you beg him. Oh, how he looks at you, what his eyes express makes your heart melt. You want him to be obsessed with you, to breathe you. It's borderline toxic, but that's how infatuated you are with him. You two remain in that position while kissing the life out of each other. You can feel him swing his hips every once in a while till his erection fades away.

-

Toto is the first one to step out of the shower; you enjoy the view of him butt naked, his wet hair dripping, the drops traveling through his bare chest down his abs and lower body while he strokes his length and legs with the towel, getting dry.

Once you are dry, too, and wrapped in a bathrobe, you start picking your clothes from the entryway floor; you two barely made it to the bed, unable to contain yourselves a second more, before going to the dressing room to select your outfit for today.

Toto is again putting on his Mercedes uniform, now in a bit of a rush. 

You are looking for your thong everywhere on the carpet, not knowing where it flew; you want to avoid the maid the awkward moment; it's the only piece of clothing missing. 

—I'm happy to have you back —he says with his whole heart, looking at you while finishing buttoning up his shirt. 

—I counted the days to be back with you —you say, emotional. Toto comes close, kisses the palm of your hand, and licks your index finger.

—I hope you don't need to leave again soon, but if you do, these stay with me —he is holding your panties hostage in his black jeans left pocket. 

None of you feel like saying goodbye and keep finding excuses in the form of kisses and petting to postpone it. Still, you must be discreet and professional and somehow manage to be together amidst everything in your life. It is a high-risk and conflict-of-interest kind of relationship on all fronts, but it feels worth it to you that you are ready to risk it all for him.

-

Sam, Charles, and you are hanging out in a famous high-end bakery in Vienna. The place is very bright, with high ceilings, white walls with mint accents of color, greenery, and modern gold lamps give the place its character; a massive large white wood display counter bar is full of rows of delicious pieces of bread and desserts, the clear wooden floors, light wood furniture, and small tables make it feel cozy. The place smells so good and feels warm.

Your mood is entirely different now. Sam stares at you while slurping dramatically and loudly the remains of her chocolate frappe through the straw.

—What? —you say while chewing your sacher würfel when you notice her eyes on you.

—They fucked —Charles adds before Sam can open her mouth. You two turn his way. He moves his hand in a kind of I recognize that smile on her while holding his vanilla kipferl.

—Yes —You admit, all blush. —But we discussed things too! —you rush to add.

—You told him where you went and what happened? —Charles asks you.

—You asked him about the Sussie thing? —Sam asks you.

Both at the same time.

—Well, no...

They roll their eyes at you.

Then Sam looks at you like you are crazy. —Then what did you two discuss? WAIT! Did you tell Charles?

—Of course, she told me! We are roomies AND besties!

Then Sam acts all jealous. —Hey! Get your own best friend!

—Charles intercepted me on my way out of the apartment; he only knew I would be out of town for a while —you clarify to Sam quickly before she slips out something important. —By the way, how is "abs" doing? —then you address Charles.

Samanta looked confused; she had never heard that name before. —Who is "abs"?

—Our womanizer neighbor in Monaco.

Still blank.

—The blond dude with long hair in a man-bun that's all ripped and has insane abs? —Charles gives her input.

Sam shakes her head.

—The one who is always shirtless and looks like Thor? He lives in the apartment right across our hallway and door —You add.

—No idea —she says, feeling left out.

—He is nice. Well... Yeah, it is hard to define. Sometimes, he hides from his conquests at our place after having fun, waiting for them to go. But he is hilarious and brings beers on cheat day Thursday —Charles explains.

—You going to love him, trust me, he is a sweet and trustworthy brute —you tell Sam.

-

A Twitter notification sounds on Millie's phone.

"Oh, miss Normani, it's great to have you back! Ferrari's red is a color that suits your skin so well; God bless the QUEEN!🐝🇬🇧" a video is attached along with the Sky Sports tweet. A stunning, athletic young girl walks down the paddock lane wearing impeccable street-style clothing, looking so chic, cameras flashing photos at her; Lewis's clothing game is getting challenged.

—Trouble is on our way —Millie hands her phone to Michael. 

—Oh, yeah, I heard the rumor at the start of the season that she would be taking the reserve driver seat for them, but that it went cold —Michael adds.

—Your sources are shit then —Millie jokes. He softly pushes her out of his way, joking.

—Well, let's give her a fight! —He motivates Millie.

-

—Certainly, I didn't see this one coming our way —Christian lets out after getting the news.

—Sorry, but who is she? —Helmut asks him.

—She's just the biggest name in girls' racing ever, no big deal —he jokes sarcastically. 

—The one that disappeared at the top of her game? I followed the scandal back in the day —Checo admits.

—Well, she is no longer on hiatus, it seems. Good thing is only for a few races! —Christian says while following her with his gaze as she enters the Ferrari headquarters.

-

—Mattia almost shit his pants when she finally answered him back. You are going to adore her. Normani is THE thing! —Charles gossips with Sam and you in the armchairs in the lobby of the Williams headquarters. —She lives in London and knows excellent places to hang out next week. I invited her to join us.

—I love the idea; this group always has room for another girl.

-

Once you are back at the circuit after lunch, you catch Toto sitting alone at a large picnic table under the shadow of a tree in an area further away from the hospitality and garages, working with his phone in hand. That man is all work, when will he relax? You go on your way there to annoy him so much.

—There is an entire long empty bench, and you sit right next —He tells you, in a deep voice but joking, arching his eyebrow, sensing your body against his.

You smile and giggle, getting even closer to him, almost blending with his side.

—God —he lets out exasperated but crosses an arm behind you and places his hand on top of yours, caressing it.

Then you move to get your things out of your large Bottega Venetta tote bag to work by his side; you have emails to answer.

You two get in the zone and focus on your tasks till you notice Toto moving his head to nose in your business.

—What's that mail for? Who are you sending it to? Why are you sending it? Hey, don't look at me like that. You are the one who chose to sit right next. I ask questions all the time; that's my job.

—Okay, but the annoyance part is my job in our relationship —you dare to shoot your shot, to see how he reacts, what he says.

You obtain no comment; he simply replies: —You have a fake job, remember?

Then, you slowly and overdramatically close your small and slim laptop with a single finger.

Toto looks at you with his eyes half closed and chin up.

—My secrets aren't for free, my love —you joke. You regret that wording later.

—Okay —He pays you with a couple of quick kisses; you are in a not very transit area and have enough privacy to do so. —What were you doing in Belgium?

—I meant the Williams-related ones; those are the ones for sale!

—Oh! Those I don't care about; we are about to bite you guys in the ass, anyways! —he says, overconfident, teasing you.

—Toto, dreaming is for free, don't you know?!

-

Toto was right; Lewis and George make a one-two. Normani gets on the podium, too, leaving Millie out. Well, that was quite the introduction for her.

-

Very late at night, you hear knocks on your suite door; you leave your warm and cozy bed to attend it. It's Toto.

As soon as you open the door, you feel a pair of lips on yours.

—I thought I would be sleeping all alone and sad after today's race on this chilly night —you pout, stopping kissing a second.

—Sorry, I went out to celebrate with the boys —Toto is a bit tipsy; he is wearing casual clothing now; layering looks so good on him! He is wearing a black turtle neck long-sleeve shirt under a very expensive cashmere grey, plain, modern blazer paired with black pants, loafer shoes, and an obsidian and silver bracelet; his hair is messy. 

Toto gets sillier and more relaxed when in that state, a thing you love, and also he gets hornier, too, to your pleasure.

The rustic fireplace is on, keeping the spacious room warm. You witness Toto rearrange the area; Toto pushes the coffee table out of the way in the sitting area right in front of the fire and brings pillows from the bed to let them fall on top of the puffy brown rug in there. 

Then he comes for you and takes you there by the hand. You two lay there wrapped in each other arms, making out. Toto's hands are on your ass and hips.

—Cozy and warm enough, baby girl? —he asks against your lips.

—Eh... —you shrug, joking. He smiles at you, then combs your hair tenderly with his fingers.

—Is there a chance you have a condom? We used the one in my wallet in the morning.

You shake your head; oh, bummer!

—Is it okay if I finish outside?

You feel your body shiver at his words.

—Yes. It's okay.

Clothes start to go out of the way; he gets you naked in no time; you are only wearing a black one-piece, sexy satin lace nightdress. He moves to help you get him undressed. His eyes go all over your body. —I keep fantasizing about what I'm going to do to you.

He takes you by surprise. Your cheeks turn red.

When you are both naked, he pushes you closer by the ass, making you spread your legs to give him room to get in the middle; you are sitting in a lotus position, your legs flexed over his, your thighs touching his thighs, he runs his hand all over your leg down to your ankle, you wrap your hands around his neck while you kiss.

Then, he slowly starts to lay you low on your back, making you lay on the pillows; he helps you make yourself comfortable on them and starts playing with your nipples, licking them with the tip of his tongue and biting them softly while locking eyes with you. He cups your tit and sucks it into his mouth; after a bit, he moves his way down. He starts eating your pussy like he is starving; you feel his wet tongue deep in you. He loves giving small kisses to your clit, provoking you to moan a lot. —I love running my tongue over every inch of you —he lets you know.

—Do you feel like to 69? —you ask him in the middle of a moan.

—Please —his voice is rough.

You sit on top of him, and you feel him burying his face in you, hand squeezing your ass while continuing to taste your pussy; amidst your loud moans, you start stroking his length and go down on his cock; you love his dick inside your mouth. You are giving him head so good that he stops for a minute to breathe heavily and moan.

—Fuck! I want to make it inside you; if you keep going, I'm going to burst inside your mouth.

—I wouldn't mind, but I love having you inside me, too.

You are more than wet and him more than hard when he slowly enters you. You both savor the movement. Then he flexes your left leg up and supports your calf on his shoulder. He starts to thrust you in that position while grabbing your right tit tightly. You feel his dick sliding inside every time faster. You are both panting and gasping.

He then switches positions, taking control this time; he gets your knees together and makes you get your legs up; he holds you in place with a firm grip from his hand on your hamstring muscles in a "hero" sex position, and Toto rocks his hips back and forward with deep strokes, you feel and see how his dick is curving up.

You start to scratch his thigh with your fingernails and slap his ass as the pleasure gets too good. —You fuck me so good, baby —you moan, reaching an orgasm in that position.

After giving yourself time to catch your breath for a second, you see how Toto lays down back against the rug; you immediately move to ride him. You feel him throbbing in pleasure inside and underneath you as you bounce hard up and down his dick; with your tits bouncing, he extends his arms to reach them and pinch your nipples, adding pressure with his fingers; then he starts wincing and biting his own lips; after a while, he rushes to place one of his large hands in your tummy, and you pull his cock out of you to start jerking it. Lots of guttural sounds come out of his mouth till he starts dripping. You feel his warm semen on your hand and abs, and you caress his chest with your free one and bend to kiss him hungrily.

Then he captures that hand and starts licking your index and middle fingers, sucking them inside his mouth and getting them wet enough with his saliva to then start leading your hand down on you, making you finger yourself, his hand on top of yours controlling and directing the movements. It gets to a point when you are so inside yourself and extremely wet that you are mess-moaning his name. Soft "Totos" is all he hears.

—Cum baby, cum for me —you feel your body trembling with his touch and yours. And you release, leaking on the rug beneath you. 

Your bodies are so heated and sweaty near the fireplace; he drops on his back after being angled fingering you, with his cock bent to the left. You place yourself next to him, hands running on his shoulders and toned arms. You kiss in that position for a while before heading towards the bathroom.

-

Before falling asleep, your chauffeur knocks on the door to deliver you a drugstore bag. As you finish drinking your tall glass of water after taking the Plan B pill and place it on the nightstand, Toto tells you he is going to spend time with his family so that he won't be sharing the flight to the UK with you. He will arrive two days later, just in time for the race.

He doesn't invite you to join him.

-

UK

You are all forced to rush to Silverstone from Austria for the anniversary race of the F1, which will take place before the usual activities of the Hungary GP start, leaving no room to rest for anyone. 

It's going to be such a unique and fabulous event, and indeed, the FIA outdid themselves. Still, it's insane for the drivers and teams to rush from one country to another and move all the equipment and people with zero time margin. No one is in their best senses when arriving at the circuit, and everyone looks like it.

Due to the logistics of the massive event, the meeting before free practice is to start at 6.00 a.m. Lando hits his head against the clear glass panel doors, trying to enter the meeting room, half asleep, holding a Red Bull in his shaky hand.

He goes straight to you. You are already sitting in the chair with your name tag. At this point, no one cares about them or respects them. It is more like a classroom now; the group always sits together at the back of the room.

Lando mumbles something that you and Millie believe means good morning, and then he takes a couple of the empty chairs next to you to lay on top of, placing his head on your thighs and using them as a pillow.

Making you laugh. —Okay, yes, go ahead —you joke. Then Lando really falls asleep. —Lando out! —you inform the group.

Lewis is in the same row as you, but at the very end, legs on top of the empty chairs beside him, with his back leaned against a sound asleep Vettel, buried beneath a massive puffer Mercedes' jacket, tilted against the wall in a sitting position. 

The room is almost empty except for you five.

—Angela almost tore down my bedroom door; she knocked so hard to wake me up. I nearly didn't make it, guys; I don't know how I got here —Lewis chats with you with a sleepy voice and swollen eyes.

Christian enters the room. —Is tits freezing today —he greets you. With a couple of "ah" sounds, he drops himself on the chairs in the front row. —I'm so old for this! —you all laugh. —You two look so well put together —He addresses Lewis and you, looking as stylish as ever. —I envy you.

Millie showed up in a set of Kuromi's pajamas, cocooned under Mick's Williams team winter jacket, that looked huge on her.

—Thanks, man —Lewis says.

Charles enters, greeting you with a peace sign gesture, followed by Carlos piggybacking a sleeping Daniel. —I would give you a hand, but... —Charles jokes, showing his bandages.

Normani enters, stealing the entire room's attention, wearing a white Dior long fleece blazer on top of a form-fitted pearl wool dress and a matching long scarf paired with high-knee suede boots in the same color. It's a monochromatic, stunning look with a combination of textures; her long hair is in a sleek ponytail, allowing it to show the beautiful minimal white gold earrings she is wearing, completing the look. 

Millie waves her hand at Normani, and she looks happy to see her in there. After greeting the room, she reaches to sit by her side and catch up. You all look at her in awe. She is so beautiful, like a doll.

—Is that Geroge? —Niki asks, on attendance this time, since Toto is not around yet.

—It's Sebastian —everyone answers in unison. He and Lewis are the first two to arrive, so no one witnessed how Vettel fell asleep mid-conversation in his chair like a grandpa and how Lewis got him warm and covered under his Mercedes puffer, yet no one has a doubt it is him who is hiding underneath there; this surprises Lewis.

—I'm shooting the poor fucker responsible for waking me up this early —Niki shouts, provoking smiles.

At his back, Masi enters the meeting room, looking very worried.

-

London is one of Sam's favorite cities; it has everything she likes. Plus, it's full of very cool girls who make her nervous and all blushy, so she loves to run errands for Niki when in town; she always ends up meeting someone and asking for a date. The best sex she has ever had in her life has been there; her greatest loves have been "chapstick" lesbians from East London.

Sam has spent her entire day on the streets being driven around, completing all the tasks on Niki's long list of things he asked her to do. It's getting dark, and the last item for today is to drop some jewelry at Cartier to get it clean. So the chauffeur takes her to the one in Old Bond Street. Her favorite, Sam, loves it even more when it's Christmas and the stunning decor is on the facade.

The store's doorman rushes to open her car door as the SUV pulls in front of the jewelry main entry. She gracefully gets down and greets him.

—Good evening, mam —he replies, welcoming her inside. Sam had been feeling happy the entire day, but it went away as soon as she entered. In the contiguous stanza, in the highly expensive-looking sitting area, Toto and Sussie are looking together at some exclusive pieces a sales lady is showing them; Sam glimpses the sparkles projected out of those under the lights from far away.

Toto is not supposed to be here, nor are they supposed to be together, she thinks, but disregards the thought; probably he just got free sooner, and they are just hanging out since Sussie lives here most of the time.

Then she goes ahead with her errand; as Sam delivers the pieces to the man behind the counter, she sees Toto getting handed back his credit card; after a bit, a man gives a box to Sussie's hands; they get up at the same and start exiting the room together; holding hands.

Fuck! They are about to see her; there is no way she can duck down and hide behind clear crystal panels.

—Sam! —Sussie greets her, noticing her and happy to see her.

Fuuuuuuck.

Toto turned his head, perplexed; he was checking out the male bracelets on the display wall on their way to the exit. He lets Sussie's hand go, and she comes close to hug Sam.

—Hi! How are you? Good to see you!

—Likewise!

—Shopping spree?

—Oh, no, I'm just running an errand for Niki —she waves her hand, dismissing it. —All ready? —Sam addresses the jewelry cleaner guy.

—In a minute —he offers her a smile.

—Hey, why don't you join us for dinner?! —Sussie offers her.

—I would love to! But I have another task yet; I don't wish to get Niki all grumpy; you know how he is when he gets in a bad mood —Lies. Sussie laughs and nods, agreeing; Toto remains quiet and further away.

—Well, next time, then! When you are in Monaco too, come to our place, yes?

—Yes!

Okay, this is a shitty position to be for Sam; if she doesn't tell you, she is a terrible friend to you. But if she tells you, she is a lousy friend to Toto. LORD HAVE MERCY! She needs to give it a thought before opening her mouth!

-

When Toto decides to show up at the paddock, he goes to look for you. He looks tired and falls asleep next to you on a bench. You cover his face with your Balenciaga bomber jacket, giving him more privacy. You rest your left hand on top of his chest. 

Samanta then arrives.

—Oh, he is here, good.

—Shss, he just fell asleep!

—This reminds me of how babies are so cute when sleeping but a terror when up.

—He is always baby —you say with a silly voice, caressing his chest.

Toto tries to listen to the conversation beneath your jacket with his eyes closed; he is about to fall asleep when he hears Samanta's voice. He needs to talk to her and explain things, but he is so comfortable in your embrace, so that can wait.

—Haven't you seen his photo from when he was a kid? They asked us for the digital version to print and place on the commemorative mural the FIA is making for the anniversary pit walk.

—No, I haven't! Is it better than baby Bottas?

—Oh, you are going to die! I have the original one in my purse here —Sam hands you a glossy, old-looking picture, a bit yellowy.

—Aawwww, he is so cute! —You observe in detail the photo of little Toto, a bit tall for his age, with skinny legs and dark, wild hair up and to the sides, leaned against his go-kart, helmet in hand; his little sister makes a small appearance in the back, picking a pebble or something from the floor wearing a floral pattern jumper. Toto is wearing an electric blue seventies driver's suit. —Hair hasn't changed a bit; that pose is everything! —you instantly get heart eyes. —His nose is so tiny, and he looks adorable. So cute! —you say with a silly voice and stare at the picture more.

—Now give it back! —Sam demands you; she yanks the photo of your grip, struggling until you let it go, then Sam archives it quickly in her purse.

—Now, shush! I'm reading essential documents —you tell her.

—Like your job was for real!

—Excuse you with that again! —Sam smiles at you and quickly disappears, noticing you are about to throw your tumbler at her.

Half an hour later, you feel Toto move on the bench, turning and almost falling to the side. He tries to incorporate and bumps his forehead with the table.

—Ouchie, love! —you let out and start to rub his temple tenderly.

—Ow! That hurt! —Toto lets you pamper him. Then stays stomach on the bench, making tired noises.

—I don't love my job very much right now —He says, and after a couple of minutes, he starts incorporating, no longer being able to avoid it, dragging along your bomber jacket, stuck and caught on behind his neck, with his hair all wild, and an "I just wake up" face.

—I just saw a photo of kid you with that same hairstyle!

He looks at you with one wonky eye, slowly processing the information.

All you can do is smile at him and softly laugh at the sight; you are so in love with him.

—Gotta get going! —he tells you, gets on his feet, places your jacket at your side, and bends his tall, fit body to kiss you on the cheek, rubbing your shoulders with his hands simultaneously before walking away.

I will not be able to resist greet and saying goodbye to him just with kisses on the cheek any longer.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

[aealzx]

“Hey…. How’s he doing?”

Leo’s soft voice caused Raph to look up, the concerned furrow in his brow growing when he noticed the red edges of Leo’s eyes despite the big smile. It was enough to get Raph’s brain churning about how to switch places with him, even as he answered. “I got him to eat some crackers earlier. After he watched the video he had of what happened.”

Leo’s grin turned into a grimace, and he hobbled over to climb back on the bed. “Ouf. That’s one way to do it I guess. Makes the text make sense too.” Crawling over, Leo rested the back of his hand on Donnie’s forehead, then cheek, and grimaced again. Using the tablet resting on the heart monitor stand he double checked the last time Donnie was given medication, and what, before using his portals to fetch other medication to give him.

“What text?” Raph asked, not knowing anything about texts anyone had gotten.

“A little bit ago I got a text from your phone saying ‘sorry for crushing your ankle’. Which was really confusing considering you didn’t do anything to it. So I’m guessing Donnie took your phone for a bit?” Leo responded, slightly absent as he was still checking up on Donnie’s current state.

Raph could only chuckle. “Ah, yeah. He was pretty insistent.” And after a short pause with Leo only humming in answer, Raph hunched over slightly. “Hey Leo? Can I ask for full time Nurse Nardo?”

“What?” Leo blinked, looking up in surprise. “What are you talking about? You’re doing great!” he protested, giving Raph a reassuring smile.

“But you’re not,” Raph pointed out, internally wincing since he hadn’t wanted to mention it since he knew it would make Leo retreat.

“I’m fine.”

There it was. An automatic response that was too quick as Leo deliberately moved to do something that would make him face away from who was looking at him. Raph just reached a hand over to squish Leo’s cheek and pull his gaze back over. Then just gave him a sad smile while rubbing his thumb under Leo’s rosy eye, like he’d done for Donnie just a few hours before. “No you’re not. And that’s okay.”

“It’s nothing. Dad just-... I was…,” Leo faltered, the smile finally fading as he reached up to hug Raph’s arm. “...I can do both,” he insisted weakly.

“I know you can,” Raph assured. “But I don’t want you to do both. And I would feel better if you were always the one looking after Donnie. You know he likes you best.”

Leo had to snort, but it did bring a faint smile back. “C’mon. Nothing beats Raph hugs.”

“Eh, you’ll have to bring that up with him,” Raph shrugged. He could definitely get all of his brothers to fall asleep on his own. But it was only when he was flattened by Leo that Donnie slept the longest, and best.

Leo seemed to be considering it, no longer feeling like he was failing or giving up. But Raph needed him to come to a conclusion a bit faster, so leaned over to hush blurt out. “Plus Raph really needs to pee. Please take him, quickly.”

Leo’s laugh crashed into his nose first before bursting from his mouth, and he reached his arms out while adjusting to get comfortable. “Alright, okay. Give him here before you wet the bed,” he snickered, pulling Donnie over to lean against him instead, and laughing more as Raph gave their sleeping brother a quick kiss on the temple before scurrying out of the room.

Settling back into the bed pillows, Leo dabbed Donnie’s face with the clean water Casey had left before he wrapped a cooling patch in a thin cloth so the adhesive wouldn’t touch Donnie’s skin. It actually did feel nice to be off his feet and relaxing, and he pulled his phone out to finish watching some of the surgery videos he’d started. “Dunno why you like me. You don’t have to…” he mumbled absently, knowing that Donnie wouldn’t hear him.

He was shocked when instead of silence his comment was returned by Donnie signing back to him while his eyes were still closed. [I know. Want to. My choice. Dum dum.]

Leo choked out a surprised noise, pulling his head halfway into his shell for a moment to hide his embarrassment. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he muttered quickly, peeking a glance at his twin and catching a sleepy gaze and subtle smile looking back at him. Huffing, Leo squirmed unnecessarily to get more comfortable. “Go back to sleep. I’m watching open heart surgery.”

As expected, Donnie gave a disgusted snort and quickly reached up to pull the rag on his head down far enough to cover his eyes, even though it ended up wedged against the pillow when he turned his head. No thank you. No disgusting, horrid human torture for him.

--------

Previous Next

____________________

Little bit of fluff =7=

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.5 K Warnings: none Prompt: The divination classroom becomes an intriguing nexus for forging new friendships amidst revelations laden with enigmatic symbolism. Meanwhile, Defense Against the Dark Arts delves even deeper into the shadows as you struggle to grasp the imminence of the ever-looming wаr. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 9: The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroкe

September 24, 1976 - Friday

Your race with Sirius, Marlene and a couple of other students who decided to tag along and prove their worth would be next week. The broom race was basically the talk of town. James had talked to the other Quidditch Team Captains, Lyonel Aldridge, Delilah Moss and of course Dmitri Volkov, and they all reached to the conclusion that it would be a great way to boost their team’s morale before the first match.

You woke up early like you had been doing the past couple of weeks, but you and Sirius had gotten a lot more competitive, so competitive you’d already gotten on James’ nerves. Which was something pretty hard to do when you were talking about quidditch. Every day you’d go on mini races, inventing new challenges to fulfill and you always pestered James regarding who’d gotten there first.

“My hand reached the line first,” Sirius said.

“Yeah, but it’s not about hands, it’s about brooms, my broom reached the halo first.” You argued back. 

“It’s not about brooms, we said whoever gets there first, and clearly I did.” 

“Sirius you can’t bend the rules so you win all the time! Besides, if I had stretched my hand I would’ve reached first so it doesn’t count.” 

“It does because you didn’t!” 

“James tell him!” You said. 

“No James, tell her!”

James sighed exasperated and hit his head against the handle of his broom “Just fucк each other already,” he mumbled, not that either of you heard it. 

“What?” You asked with a frown. 

“You know what?" He snapped, sitting straight "Neither of you won! And your mini air races when practicing? They’re OVER! No more broom races until official race day and then you’ll admit the other is a faster flier and this bickering will be forgotten.” 

“But James!” Both you and Sirius argued. 

He gave you both a stern look, and you shot your mouth. “Fine then, till the race we’ll know.” 

Sirius nodded “Truce?” He said offering you his hand. You took a deep breath and shook it. 

Once you were back in the ground Sirius called you with a smirk “Hey (Y/N)! Bet I can get to the common room before you do.” He then started running. 

“You wish,” you said running behind him.

James sighed again “We said no races!” 

“You said no flying,” Sirius shouted back. 

You then turned to James with a smile as you ran “He’s right, this is running.” 

James rolled his eyes but took off running behind the two of you anyway. The only thing that sometimes shut the two of you up, was when someone else won, and he had the longest legs. In the end, he was indeed the first one to arrive, letting himself fall on the couch as you and Sirius fought your way inside. 

“Prongs, you’re here?” You said out of breath when you saw him laying on the couch, regaining his own breath. 

He frowned “Since when do you call me Prongs?” He asked amused. 

“Oh… um… sorry, it must have slipped,” You said as you sat down “I blame Sirius for it.” 

James laughed “No, it’s fine. You can call me Prongs.” He took a long breath, “But stop blaming Pads for everything.” 

“In my defence. It really is ALWAYS Sirius’ fault.” 

He made the face of a man that agreed with your statement. “James!” Sirius complained he noticed. 

James grimaced in return “For fucкs sake, take me away from these two,” he said grabbing a pillow and placing it over his head dramatically. 

You and Sirius exchanged a glance, yeah, you may be bickering all the time now, but it was all friendly banter, James was overreacting. 

“Morning,” you heard Remus say as he came down the stairs “Just got here from practice?” 

You nodded “And they’re getting on my nerves Moony,” James grumbled. 

Remus raised an eyebrow at the two of you “We just asked him to decide who’d been the winner of our mini race,” you said innocently.

 He nodded, understanding. “Leave poor James alone, he’s been doing so much to prepare your race that… he might actually be sick of quidditch by the end of it.” 

James instantly reacted to Remus’ words, removing the pillow from his head “I would never!” 

You were sweaty from so much running so you excused yourself and went for a short shower, Lily was preparing her backpack when you walked out of the bathroom, using your wand to dry your hair. “Today we’re picking the fluxweed together, right?” You asked her. 

She nodded “Just wait for me, will you? We’ll walk to the greenhouse together, don’t think of going by yourself.” 

“Of course, I’ll wait for you Lils, don’t worry about it,” you told her with a smile and finished both closing the buttons of your shirt, and shoving your stuff quickly in your bag "Ready for breakfast?"

Lily nodded and the two of you walked down to the common room together. The boys were secretly talking to each other on the corner close to the fire, looking all conspiratoriall as they did. "You coming for breakfast?" Lily asked them. Remus turned to look at her, his brown eyes seemed more golden than usual, you wondered if it was because of the lighting in the room.

"Yes, we’ll be down in a minute tho, we’re helping Peter finish his Divination essay.” 

You raised an eyebrow at that statement. Since when did they help Peter with essays? Well, Remus definitely would help Peter, he’d probably help anyone that asked nicely. But the rest? Sirius? That was a bit sus, to say the least. But Lily was already walking out of the common room, so after giving them one more look, you followed her. Maybe they were planning another prank like the rain on the main hall. 

Once you were downstairs, the two of you walked towards the great hall. Mary, Marlene, Beth and some others were already there, having breakfast. You greeted them all with a smile “Good morning!” You said as you sat down. 

“Morning,” responded Mary as she looked up from her copy of The Daily Prophet. 

“Anything new?” You asked her, nodding towards the paper. 

She shook her head “Just the wаr,” she replied somberly “Apparently some deatheaters went on a кiling spree. They’re trying to get the muggle-borns.” 

“An older lady was кiled,” Marlene continued “Marsha Allenty, she was a muggle-born auror.” 

You shuddered at the thought. Muggle-borns first, half-borns next, it wouldn’t take them too long to destroy half the wizarding population if they kept going. Someone had to stop them. You were about to say something when the owls started coming in.  

Your family owl, Barnaby, flew down, dropping a package in front of you. You looked at it. The (Y/LN) family seal was stamped over the elegant wrapping. It had to be from your mother. You opened the package, it contained several things. Some galleons, sweets from your favourite bakery back at home, which instantly told you they’d been travelling. A box filled with different potions, and some ingredients to brew shampoo and other beauty-related things. A special potions booklet and a small velvet box. 

You opened it and there was a ring inside, a thin metal piece with some engravings on it and a gem at the top, held by 4 small pieces of metal, two shaped like a star and two shaped like a moon. 

“What is it?” asked Beth, leaning into you from the side. 

“A gift from my parents,” you responded, taking the reins out of the box to show it to her. 

“It’s stunning,” she told you. “Do you know what that is?” She said pointing at the stone. 

“Moonstone, isn’t it?” You asked, Beth nodded. “Mom cares a lot about the magical properties of stones,” you explained. 

“And the metal is silver,” she said turning the ring around, taking a look at the little seal on the inside. 

“Silver?” You frowned, taking a closer look “You’re right, that’s different. She’s never given me a silver piece before.” 

“Maybe she thinks you’re old enough?” She asked with a shrug. 

You nodded, but it wasn’t that. Your mom always gave you gold things. She said the protective value of it was a lot higher than any other metal. Even the necklace Sirius had given you in the vacation, made of brass, was turned into gold with a special spell she had, a spell that would leave all the magical properties of the item intact. 

“Well, whatever the reason, she did pick a beautiful ring,” you said, finally sliding it through one of your fingers. 

“Do you know what magic it’s got?” 

You shook your head, looking through the box to see if your mom had written any kind of letter. You didn’t find any and shrugged it off “Maybe she just thought it was pretty…” 

“What was pretty?” Asked Peter, who appeared almost out of nowhere along with the boys. 

“(Y/N) was gifted a new ring,” said Mary before taking a bite from her eggs. 

You raised your hand so Peter could see it “Got it on a package from my mom.”

“Moon and stars, eh?” He asked with a raised eyebrow “Interesting choice of symbolism, isn’t it?” 

You looked at Peter and shrugged. He was right, it was an interesting choice of symbolism. Your mom, like you, had an affinity to divination. Maybe she knew something you didn’t “My mom loves that stuff,” you told him, and lowered your hand back to the table, taking your fork to dig into a sausage. 

The boys sat further down on the table. Just close enough to still be able to talk to everyone already sitting there. You left early to go check on the fireworms. Remus and you had decided to split the days in which you had to feed them, and today was your turn. When you arrived at the tunnel entrance you looked around to make sure no one had followed you and entered as quickly as possible. 

“Lumus,” You whispered, and your wand lit up, making the dark tunnel navigable. You looked through the pockets of your robe and found the scrap of parchment Remus had made for you. “Revelio,” you said as you moved your wand over it, revealing a tiny map of the tunnels. You were sure you’d learn the way soon enough, but for now, the little map was indispensable.

You used the map to navigate the tunnel until you arrived at the little nook in which you’d hidden your fireworms. You grabbed some of the food in your backpack and gently placed it on the food trays you’d created with a couple of pumpkin juice caps. You looked at the little fireworms satisfied when you noticed one of them was shining, like a firefly. But the light travelled from the end of the tail, all the way through his body and towards his head, then with a small little sound, almost like a fairy burp, the fireworm caused a small ball of fire to come from his mouth. You looked at it amazed, and quickly put the small fire out with your wand. 

You grabbed your backpack and took out your charms book, trying to find a flames stopper or fire preventive spell as soon as possible. Soon enough you found something that could work and cast it all over the little fireworm habitat you and Remus had been building. After the spell was ready, you stayed for a couple of minutes to make sure they wouldn’t cause a fire that’d burn the entire castle down and once you were certain you let out a long sigh, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. 

You were thrilled, your fireworms were doing excellent, the way you and Remus had taken care of them allowed them to develop in less time than the standard, which would guarantee the two of you really good grades. You had to tell Remus about it. Maybe you could tell him in divination. Shiit, divination! You were supposed to be in divination. You ran out of the little nook and used the map to find a shortcut towards the divination tower. Once outside you knocked on the door a couple of times and waited. Professor Spellman opened the door, letting you inside with a displeased glance. 

“I’m sorry for being late,” you mumbled as fast as possible. You walked inside and started walking towards Remus, who luckily, hadn’t been paired with anyone yet. 

“Miss (Y/LN),” Professor Spellman called, you turned to him “You will be working with Sybil today,” he said, pointing towards the small Ravenclaw girl. You swallowed but nodded and walked towards her table. You knew who she was, Remus had told you about her, and her story, and you’d probably exchanged a couple of words with her in the past, but you’d never really talked to her. 

“Hey,” you waved as you sat next to her, she waved back, with a small smile, and absentmindedly nudged her glasses back to their place. You looked at her for a minute, her hair might be messy, and you heard she wasn’t very popular, but she was very pretty non the less. 

Professor Spellman started talking and with a flick of his wand opened some cabinets, floating a teapot in front of each table, Leaf reading. You and Sybil brew the tea together, using some of the herbs suggested by the book for more accurate readings. And started chatting to each other after you served your respective teas. 

“Do you like divination?” She asked you. 

“I… uh… not that much, I’ve had some experiences,” you stuttered. 

“Sad readings?” She asked, with a sympathetic expression. 

You nodded, taking a sip of your tea “It’s always negative stuff with me,” you explained “Accurate, but negative.” You shuddered, “What about you? With your legacy and all?” 

“I don’t dislike it,” she told you with a smile, “I don’t like getting sad readings either but it’s fun to know bits of the future, for example, the other day I had these feeling that it was going to rain, so I put on some rain boots before going to Care for Magical Creatures, some Hufflepuffs and even other kids from my year were throwing looks at me, but when it started raining and everyone’s shoes got ruined, but mine didn’t, it was completely worth it.”

You smiled at her story “I don’t get those kinds of feelings,” you said “But it’s nice to meet someone that enjoys it, maybe you could help me enjoy it too.” 

Eventually, you both finished your teas and exchanged teacups. You took a deep breath and eventually leaned over to look at her cup, hoping there would be something good in there. You exhaled when you saw a small little butterfly on the cup. Butterflies were good, they meant change, they meant personal growth, they meant… Images flashed through your eyes, and you breathed heavily a couple of times, trying to regain composure. 

Sybil knew exactly what was going on, she’d been through it several times before too. So she looked at you with concern. “What did you see?” She asked in a steady tone. 

“Nothing bad,” was the first thing you managed to muster, “just… you’ll give a prophecy soon. A very important one, I saw Professor Dumbledore, he seemed really interested in what you had to say.” She nodded at your words, writing everything you said down on a piece of paper, then you looked at her, placing a hand on her arm “Sybil, this prophecy… it looked like it was going to be dark,” you said “but it’s one of those that will change the world.” 

She nodded, taking in all the information you’d given her. She did not doubt a single word you said. And you were glad she did, sometimes visions as such were hard to comprehend, and that’s if the person even cared for it. 

“Are you ok?” She asked then. 

You nodded “I– uh…” you looked at her tea “You will have a period of transformation and positive change, like the metamorphosis of a butterfly,” you told her, making an effort to read the rest of her tea leaves “You should, uh… embrace the opportunities that’ll come your way and also let yourself spread your wings.” 

She laughed in response “That’s my fortune?” She asked motioning towards her tea cup. 

 “Yeah,” you nodded, sounding very certain about it “You must accept your uniqueness,” you added for good measure, after all, humor is one of the best ways to cope with such things “And me? What’s my destiny?” 

She adjusted her glasses and took a peak at your cup “I see… stars, the moon, they’re surrounding something,” she said “A small animal, maybe a hare, or… a wildcat?” 

You looked at her with a frown “Did you say the moon and stars?” 

She nodded, tilting the cup towards you. And she was right, the moon was there, the stars too, and… the small animal? That was a fox. You took a deep breath and showed her the ring your mom had given you “My mom sent me this,” you told her “also moon and stars symbolism.” 

Sybil raised an eyebrow “Does she have an affinity with divination?” She asked. You nodded in response “Then it must mean something…” she said, picking up her book and flipping through it “But I can’t find anything about the moon and stars in the book.” 

“Interpret it,” Said Professor Spellman as he walked by, looking at Sybil with a stern face. 

She nodded, sliding towards the back of the chair, Professor Spellman was imposing, to say the least. “I uh… I see the moon and the stars, they’re close, to a… it’s a–“ 

“It’s a fox,” you told her “The animal, it’s not a wild cat, it’s a fox.” 

“A fox, right!” she agreed, “and I– are those flowers?” She asked looking deeper into the cup. By then your little interaction had piqued the attention of some other students from the class, they were watching the two of you intently. “I– I may be getting things twisted but… according to your cup, the moon and the star will find a blossoming love with…” she hesitated “with the fox.” 

Everyone around the classroom laughed, but the professor raised a hand to quiet them, looking into the cup himself “Sybil’s reading is accurate.” He said, “Maybe (Y/N) has an idea what those symbols might mean?”

You sat straighter, looking at the professor “I seem to be surrounded by symbolism today,” you told him “But I’m sorry sir, I’ve got no idea what it may mean. Perhaps I’ll adopt a fox or something? Shower it with love and stuff,” You lied. While you may have not been able to understand the whole symbolism, there was one thing you knew for certain: you were the fox. 

The Professor nodded, even if he didn’t look convinced, and moved towards someone else’s table. You exhaled, only then realizing you’d been holding your breath. “He can be very intimidating, right?” Sybil asked you. 

You nodded “Definitely.” She looked like she wanted to tell you something else “What is it?” You asked her. 

“Just.. be careful, yeah? The moon, it– it looks a little mennacing on your cup. Like… like it could be dangerous.” 

You frowned “As in, maybe I shouldn’t go out tonight dangerous or…?” 

“No, no,” she shook her head “I don’t know how to explain it, just… keep that in mind, will ya?” 

You nodded, placing a hand on her arm to reassure her “And you’ll be a famous fortune teller soon,” you told her with a smile “How does that feel?” 

She shrugged “I always expected to end up as one, I guess it’s nice to get a prediction of what you’ll be, makes it a little more certain.” 

“And you trust my predictions?” You asked her with a shrug.

She nodded furiously “Of course I do! It’s not every day a fairy tells you your fortune.” 

“I’m sorry?!” You asked her, shocked. 

“I saw it in your cup,” she explained “I didn’t mean to pry, but it made sense… your divination affinity, your charm and magnetism, your talent while flying… You’re part fairy, aren’t you?”  

You looked at her mortified, your parents had done so many things to keep that hidden and now Sybil just guessed it, “You can’t tell anyone,” you told her in a very serious tone. 

She smiled at you “I wasn’t planning to, your secrets are safe with me.” You smiled at her after that, you trusted her. 

Once the class was over you stood up, but she stayed in her seat “You don’t have another class?” You asked her politely. 

She shook her head “I’ve got arithmancy next, I took it as an optative.” 

You hummed in response “Have fun then,” You told her with a smile “I’ve got Magical Theory.”

“Good luck, I heard Professor Pendragon, can be very strict.” 

“No worse than Spellman,” you whispered, so that the Professor in question, who was talking to some other students wouldn’t hear you. Sybil laughed and you finally pulled your backpack from your seat and started walking outside but you were stopped by Professor Spellman. 

“Miss (Y/LN),” he said, and you walked closer to him “Be very careful tonight,” he warned, “there was something odd on your cup, and as you may know, today is Full Moon.” 

You nodded “Thanks, Professor.” Clearly, he saw the same thing Sybil had seen, which was mildly disturbing, but alas, your day had to continue.

Once you were outside of the classroom you spotted the boys a few stairs down. Peter was walking with the girls, you assumed towards their Ancient Studies class, while James, Sirius and Remus walked together, they were walking towards the east wing, to Magical Theory, the class you shared. You had the intention to catch up with them, but they were looking as suspicious as they had looked earlier in the common room, talking in whispers to each other, heads so close they could easily bump together. You decided it was best to let them be, you’d been hanging out with them so much lately, they probably needed some space. So you slowed down your pace, just far enough so they could get their much-needed privacy. 

Eventually, you reached the Magical Theory classroom, and when you arrived you found James waiting at the door, he quickly pulled you towards him and said “She’s gonna be my team.”  

You looked at him with a shrug “Your team? for what?” 

Remus, who was close by responded “The teacher said we’ll be working on a team project, Sirius and I are working together, so James was waiting to claim you as his team.” 

“Besides, I really need your help,” James added. 

You frowned, and asked, a little confused “With the project?” 

“No, with Evans!” He whispered.

Realization down on you and you looked at Remus “He didn’t even ask you to be on his team, did he?” 

He shook his head in response, mouthing a “nope.” 

You laughed, “All right then, we’re a team,” you told James “You can ask me all you need when we–“ You cut yourself off “Wait, Remus! I’ve got to tell you something…” 

“All right, if you gave your teams, please take a seat, class will start.” You heard the teacher say. 

“Nevermind,” you  told him as you turned back since James was pulling you into a table near the back “You’re not planning to pay much attention then?” 

“Don’t scorn me like that,” he complained “We’ll pay attention, I just– really need your advice.” 

"In this project, you will embark on a captivating journey to craft your very own magical artifact. Channel your imagination, drawing inspiration from the likes of invisibility cloaks and rememberalls, as you fashion an extraordinary creation of your own making," the teacher commenced, igniting a spark of curiosity among the class, even James, who had been mortified about Lily just minutes earlier was paying attention.

"Each artifact should possess a distinct purpose, serving its intended function with finesse. You will delve into the depths of your creativity, meticulously designing a blueprint that brings your vision to life. Fear not, for guidance shall be provided, I will walk with you every step of the way“ the teacher reassured, yet a chorus of playful groans filled the air in response to the mention of project design papers.

"Ah, I understand your sentiment," the teacher chuckled, acknowledging the students' apprehension. "But worry not! The journey shall be as enchanting as the destination itself. These project design papers will serve as a canvas to weave together the threads of your imagination, showcasing the brilliance of your creation. Embrace the opportunity to bring your ideas to fruition, weaving magic into the tangible realm. Who knows, you may be the next creators to hold the rights to an incredibly useful device that will sell millions.“ With these words, a wave of anticipation and excitement rippled through the classroom, as students began envisioning the magical artifacts they would soon breathe life into.

“Well, that’s an interesting project,” you said as you started writing down some ideas in your notebook. 

“It’s brilliant, we could ask him to help us with the map!” 

“What map?” You asked while raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh… sorry,” he said “I thought for a minute that you– nevermind. You need to help me with Lily.” James had gotten so used to hanging around you and the boys at the same time for a moment he thought you already knew about the Marauders Map. 

You sighed “Of course James. Tell me what happened,” you said, turning to him “but please write some ideas down as you do.” 

He nodded, and started scribbling on his piece of paper “You see, since we kissed back at Marlene’s party–“

“–James that was a game, you can’t be hung up on that.” You interrupted. 

“No, you don’t understand, there was a connection.” 

You rolled your eyes, while you did think Lily maybe had a little bit of a crush on James, you also knew she wasn’t anywhere ready to admit it. Especially with James’ incessant flirting since like 4th year. Marlene had told you about it. “James, it sounds ridiculous. I kissed Remus then too, and I’m not hung up on it.” 

He narrowed his eyes at that “but you seemed to enjoy it.” 

You shrugged “Can’t say he’s a bad kisser.” And Remus is handsome, you thought “But that’s not the point anyway. What happened?” 

“Lily seems more willing to talk to me lately,” he explained.

“Well, that’s lovely, just give her enough space so you don’t make her feel pressured. Be kind and nice… and stuff.” 

“I was thinking of making this very grand gesture on the quidditch–“ 

You shook your head “James Potter,” you warned “If you so much as try something like that you will scare her away. She’s barely realizing she might like you, don’t do THAT!” 

“What did you just say?” 

“Don’t do it!” You insisted.

“No,” he shook his head, “before that.” 

“I said that she’s barely realizing she might have a c… fuck.” 

“You think… You think she likes me?” He asked, in a very small high pitched tone.

“I– wouldn’t go as far as to say that…” he looked so sad, “…yet.” 

“Yet?” He asked, perking up as a surge of excitement ran through his body.

You nodded “I… think she’s warming up to you,” you told him sincerely “Just don’t do anything that could scare her away, please.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like a scary grand gesture for example.” 

The professor walked toward you “Any ideas so far?” He said looking at James’ messy writing. 

James nodded “A confetti cannon that, after using it, leaves confetti wherever you go,” he said, and read another idea “a pair of shoes that make the wearer constantly trip, a teapot that won’t stop whistling, even without any tea on it, and a buble liquid that makes ticklish bubbles.” He said proudly. 

You stared dagger at him and covered his notes with your some parchment “It’s still a work in progress,” you told the teacher with the most charming smile you could muster, “James and I are still looking for better ideas.” 

The professor nodded and kept walking around the classroom. 

“Tripping shoes?” You asked in desbeilif “an ever whistling teapot? Are you for real–“

“–In my defence, I’m not great at multitasking.”

“No shiit Sherlock,” you told him.

“The tripping shoes could be funny tho.”

“Yeah, and the tickling bubbles are useful, for pranks, but Professor Pendragon wants us to invent the next invisibility cloak, I don’t think he’d be too satisfied with any of those options.” 

“What about a ring that’s also an invisibility cloak?” 

You rose your eyebrow at him “You mean like in the Lord of the Rings?” 

“What’s the Lord of the Rings?” 

You gasped, offended, you too had grown on a pure-blood wizard family but at least you knew the Lord of the Rings, “The hobbit?! Does not ring any bells?” He shook his head “It’s a very popular muggle book, you should really brush up on your muggle literature. Perhaps you should have taken muggle studies instead.”

“Hey!” He complained, “Don’t bash me for not being a literature genius like you and Remus.”

“I bet even Sirius would know about The Lord of the Rings.” 

“How much?” 

“10 sickles?” You asked. 

“Oh, I’m really, really sure Sirius won’t know either,” James said “Make it 20.” 

You rose your eyebrow at his challenge and nodded “Deal,” you said raising your hand to shake his, successfully closing the deal. 

“So… the magical ring’s off the table?” 

“No, I… I don’t think it’s a bad idea, maybe we can make a magical ring, just, with different powers instead.” 

“Like…?”

You shrugged in response “We could make two rings that always find each other.” 

“Ohhh, and I could give one to Lily!” James said excitedly, you threw him a look “Like… not now... When we start dating… obviously.” 

“Love the confidence of that statement,” you said with a smile, thinking of how James had used when instead of if. 

He winked “What about a bracelet that lets you communicate with someone else, like a… muggle telephone.” 

“Or a walkie talkie…” you agreed.

“A what?” He asked. 

“You’re joking, right?” 

“I- uh… yeah,” he replied, not confidently at all. 

“Damn it, James, you urgently need some muggle classes.” You said and started drawing a pair of walkie-talkies on the notebook, trying to explain their use, and how they worked, even if you weren’t entirely certain of how they did. “Can’t believe none of you thought it’d be useful to have some of them around. Especially for your pranks.” 

“Yeah, me neither,” he agreed “You know smoke signals aren’t really the most effective.” 

“Surely you didn’t try that,” You said confidently, his expression gave him away “You did?!?” 

He shook his head, letting out a long sigh “We were in detention for days.” 

You chuckled  at that “At least you have the little paper planes now,” you said, remembering the day Remus had sent one to the boys, same day he took you to the lake because you were feeling upset. 

“They’re useful, but they can be intercepted.” He explained, “Not very good for top secret plans.” 

You laughed, of course, James would consider his prank plans worthy of the Top Secret title. “What about a bracelet?” You asked then.

“A magical bracelet? Sounds good, also with walkie-talkie abilities?” 

“Could be more convenient than a ring…” you responded, “Not really sure about it tho."

“What about a pair of glasses that can help you see better in the dark?” He asked, “For those times where you can’t use lumos, maybe you lost your wand, or you wanna be inconspicuous.” 

“Night vision googles, I dig it.” 

“Exactly, but smaller, more practical to carry around.” 

“Well, I guess we’ve got a few solid ideas then,” you said as you started picking up your things, you and James had stayed brainstorming together for a little longer than you realized “Class is over?”

James nodded “Moony and Pads left already,” he said as he looked towards the table your friends had been sitting on, “probably to the great hall, we said we’d eat together.” 

“Peter too?” You asked him, he nodded.

“Wanna join us?” 

You shrugged in response, “though you were planning a prank or something,” you said as you walked towards the door with him by your side. 

He frowned “Why?” 

“All the secretive talks? You’ve been awfully suspicious today.” 

“What? No- that’s… it’s not. We’re not suspicious.” 

You gave him an incredulous look but nodded “No, not at all,” you added sarcastically. 

Once you were in the hall you spotted Remus and Sirius walking ahead of you and remembered you had to tell him about your fireworms so you picked up the pace. You walked behind him, for a minute, but he was so entertained in his conversation with Sirius you decided it’d be funny to tease him, so you extended your arms, and standing in your toes –because Remus was actually pretty tall– you decided to cover his eyes with your palms “Guess who–“ you started, but didn’t even get enough time to finish since Remus practically jumped out of your grasp in seconds, hissing as the silver of your new ring came into contact with his skin. It didn’t leave a mark but it did hurt him like hell. 

Sirius, being quick to figure the new ring you wore had silver on it, looked at you with panic, but you didn’t notice, you were too concerned over Remus’ reaction. “I– I’m sorry Rem, didn’t mean to scare you…” you stammered “I… I was just trying to tease.” James and Sirius finally relaxed when they noticed you’d thought Remus was just scared. 

“It’s ok…” he said with a forced smile as he extended his hand, a safe distance between your ring and himself “I wasn’t expecting you to come up from behind like that.” 

You didn’t seem convinced but nodded, concern still evident on your face. “I uhh… I was trying to catch up to actually,” You finally changed the subject. James had gotten in between you and Remus as you walked, so you leaned a little towards the front to see your friend better “It’s about our fireworms, they’re already breathing fire.” 

“What? I thought they wouldn’t do it until they were like a month old,” said Sirius. 

“Exactly!” You nodded excitedly “They weren’t, our caring must have been phenomenal. Our babies are overachievers.” 

“You’re keeping them together?” James asked. 

You nodded “Co-parenting,” you paused “We split tasks and that way we make sure we don’t burn down the school by accident.” 

Remus nodded in agreement “It’s easy to remember to feed them when it’s only a couple times a week instead of every single day.” 

“And we found an excellent spot to keep them too, away from stress and anything that could make them nervous.” 

“Well, the overachievers are not the worms,” Sirius said giving you and Remus a look. 

James agreed “We just gave ours to Peter, in exchange for some other homework.” 

“By the way (Y/N), mind taking care of them tomorrow too?” Remus asked politely.

“Sure thing,” you said, not thinking much of it. 

You had your lunch with the boys, the girls and Peter joined you a bit later and you all walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts together. Professor Nightshade was elegantly leaning on her desk when you arrived at her classroom. She looked a little tense. Like she wasn’t too excited about the class to come. 

Once most students were inside she shut the door with a wave of her wand “Today we will be going through the unforgivable curses.” She said, looking rather dejected “and while is not of my favourite classes to teach, we must delve into the subject, especially in dark times like these in which you might need to defend yourselves from one of them.” 

The entire class was silent, everyone was paying attention to every single one of her words. It wasn’t uncommon to hear about the war, it was on the paper every single day, but most students chose to avoid and ignore the subject, so even if the war was going on, it was outside, Hogwarts was safe. But being confronted with it, so upfront, felt, well, it felt eerie and scary. 

“Can someone name the unforgivable curses?” She asked. 

Lily raised her hand “The кilling course, Imperius curse and…” 

“The cruciatus curse,” Finished Sirius with a heavy breath. 

“Correct!” Seraphina said, “10 points for Gryffindor… Indeed those are the three unforgivable curses, and they are unforgivable because…”

“Because they violate the rights of whoever is being cursed by them,” you responded. 

“Can any of them be avoided?” 

You shook your head “Only very experienced wizards can resist Imperio.” 

“And countered?” 

“Physical barriers might block some of the curses, but there is no known spell that can do such a thing.” Said Remus. 

“No one has ever survived a кilling course either,” Imogen Potts added.  

“Seems like you’ve been doing all the readings accordingly,” the teacher said satisfied “Now, you know the theory, but today we will have a small demonstration.” The students gasped, but Seraphina nodded heavily “You must know what you’re up against,” she pulled out a box and opened it, a butterfly flew out of it, about the size of your palm. Seraphina let the small insect fly freely for a minute before pointing her wand straight at her and whispering “Imperio.”  

The butterfly started flying around, making circles around the class before landing on Marlene’s nose. She was sitting beside you, so you looked at her in awe as the butterfly batted its wings softly near her face. But then Seraphina changed the course, whispering “Cruicio.” The butterfly fell from Marlene’s nose and onto your table, right next to your book as it batted its wings helplessly. You looked at it with concern, Seraphina herself looked mortified as she inflicted pain on the small creature.

You gave her an imploring look, and that was all it took for her to stop. The small butterfly was released from the pain and started flying all around the classroom, desperately looking to get away from the place. Once the butterfly was close enough to her, she whispered the last curse and after a green flash came from her wand, the butterfly stopped flying, slowly falling to the ground, like a leaf from a tree. 

The whole classroom was quiet. You stood up and carefully picked up the small butterfly from the floor. Looking at it pitifully as you handed it over to Seraphina, who held the box out for you to place it inside. “As you’ve seen, these curses are not only lethal but terrifying as well. There is a reason why, whoever dares to infringe them, will never be forgiven.” 

“They will go to Azkaban,” whispered Peter. 

“What a pitiful destiny,” agreed Sirius. 

Professor Nightshade sighed heavily “I think this is enough for today, you may go.”

Students nodded and started placing their things into their backpacks. When you stood up, you walked towards her “I want to be in the duelling club.” You told her “I… I don’t want to end up like the butterfly.” 

Seraphina looked at you, a sorrowful look in her eyes, she understood the implications of what you’d said. She knew how heavy your statement was. And she nodded “Of course darling, you’ll be a brilliant addition to the club.” 

You nodded, satisfied and finally caught up with your friends. You went straight to Lily “At what time must we go get the fluxweed?” You asked. 

“It’s supposed to be when the moon it’s at its highest point,” she told you “I checked the astronomy section of the paper in the morning, apparently at around 11:30 pm.” 

“All right, we can totally hang out together till then, right? Do you have any plans?” 

She shook her head “We had study club, but we cancelled it today, I was thinking of maybe going to the library to get some stuff and then studying or just chilling back at the common room.” 

“It’s settled then,” you told her with a smile, walking alongside her towards the library. Since you had already finished most of your assignments you decided to walk through the long bookshelf to see if you found anything that caught your eye, while Lily looked for some more specific books. And as you walked over the edge of one of the bookshelves you bumped into Nina, the small Ravenclaw girl from the study grup that had a crush on Remus. “Hey love,” you said politely. 

“Hi,” she replied quietly. To be fair, Nina really wanted to dislike you when she first encountered you. She was jealous of how close you and Remus had gotten in such a short period of time, but you had always treated her with kindness, genuinely willing to help her, if she had any questions, or needed help with a particular spell; that, in the end, she couldn’t help but like you instead. In fact, she’d go as far as to say she admired you. She’d seen you practicing spells and she even went to one of the quidditch trainings, with the intention to ogle at Remus who had gone too, but she was far too entranced by you when you were flying that she almost completely forgot about her original reason for going. 

“You looking for Rem?” You asked her politely. 

She shook her head “He cancels study sessions at least once every couple of weeks,” she told you “Originally, only Lily held the sessions by herself but she got very stressed without him to help her with the younger students, so they decided it was best to cancel them altogether.” Remus cancelled them? You thought, that’s odd. “What about you? Are you looking for a book in particular?” 

You shook your head “Just something to entertain me while I hang out with Lily.” 

“Oh, I think I can help you with that,” she said with a smile, bringing her backpack in front of her and opening the zipper “I actually got my hands on this book out last week, I read it in days, it’s about a werewolf who falls in love with a wizard.” she explained “It’s not very accurate with the actual nature of werewolves, but the key points are there. It’s a very fun romantic novel If you’re into that kind of stuff.” She said taking a book out of her bag and placing it on the table. “Oh and this one,” she grabbed a smaller book “It’s filled with simple yet practical spells that we don’t have in the curriculum, such as ways to fix glasses and open locks. It’s fantastic if you want something a bit more educational.” 

You looked at her with a smile “These are fantastic Nina, thank you!” You said with genuine excitement.

She smiled at you, blushing just a little at your reaction “It’s nothing. I’m– I really like books,” she told you with a smile “If you ever need new recommendations, I’m down.” 

You smiled at her “You’re the best!” You told her picking the books up from where she left them “It was lovely seeing you.” 

She nodded, and was about to say something when Lily showed up, looking for you “I’ve got the books, ready to go?” She asked, and then noticed you weren’t alone “Oh, hey Nina! What’s up?” 

“She lent me a couple of books,” you said, raising the books you held in between your arms so Lily would notice.

Lily nodded “Oh, Nina is really good at picking out books, trust me.” Lily said, “Mind if I take (Y/N) with me now?” 

Nina shook her head “We were just doing some small talk.” She said, with a bit of a blush as both you and Lily waved your goodbyes. 

As you walked outside the library Lily gave you a look “So… you’re friends with Nina now?” 

You shrugged “She’s pretty nice actually. I don’t know when it happened, but she stopped hating me over Remus, and now she’s really kind, she even recommended books!” 

“You probably just charmed her with your personality and looks, like you did with pretty much everyone,” Lily teased with a smile. 

“Oi, shut up Evans, you’re probably more charming than I am,” you said nudging her in a friendly manner. She nudged you back and the two of you walked together towards the common room, chatting about your due assignments, and your favourite books. Since Lily was a muggle-born, she knew even more about muggle books than you, and it was fun hearing about all of them, from her favourites to those she didn’t like all that much.

Once you arrived at the common room you both found a comfortable place, she sat on the small round table by the stairs and you went straight for one of the couches, letting yourself comfortably lay on it while opening your backpack to pick one of the books Nina had recommended, you grabbed each on one hand, staring at the covers, trying to decide which one to go for first. After weighing both of them in your head, you decided to read the spell book and leave the romance novel on the side table. 

Nina hadn’t been lying, the book was indeed practical, and you tried casting some of the most complicated or useful spells as you read, practicing the wand movements and incantations as Lily focused on her homework.

At some point Mary and Marlene went in, they were giggling about something that happened so you decided to leave your book next to the others and join their conversation. 

“Oh my god, (Y/N)! You won’t believe what happened.” Mary said. 

You smiled “Oh, do tell” 

“We were talking to Moaning Myrtle, she said she overheard Holden talk about Marlene with some other boys, that she was an incredible beater and stuff.” 

“Really?” You said smiling wider “I mean, no doubt, she’s amazing!  But he said that?”

Mary nodded “According to Myrtle, that is… She also said some boys have been saying you’re part Veela because of your charm, be careful they may try and throw you into the water to see if you’re a good swimmer.” 

You laughed at that, you were a good swimmer, but they couldn’t have been more off with their guesses. “So… what are you waiting for Mars? You have to make your move!” 

“Make my move?” She gasped. 

You nodded “Well, at the party you seemed pretty close, admit you like him or–”

“–Kiss him unexpectedly,” completed Mary. 

“Yeah, that too.” You nodded.

“Well…” Marlene said taking a deep breath “I’m thinking I could– I wanted to invite him to Hogsmeade over the weekend, actually.” 

“That’s brilliant!” You told her “Isn’t that tomorrow?”

She nodded in response “You coming too? I heard Sirius and James mention they wanted to show you around.” 

“They haven’t told me anything about it, but I guess I’ll tag along with ya’ll anyway.”

At that point Lily stood up from her place and stretched, yawning softly “What time is it?”  

“10:30,” answered Marlene after looking at her wrist watch “You done?”

She nodded “But we have to stay up for at least an hour,” Lily complained.

“Why?” Mary asked. 

“We’re going to harvest some fluxweed,” you responded instead. 

“Oh… because it’s full moon,” Marlene acknowledged. 

You nodded “When are you getting yours?” 

“Marlene ordered them from a fancy potion supply store.” 

“That was allowed?” you asked, surprised.

Marlene shrugged “Not sure, but I highly doubt Slughorn will find out, if anything, we can say we picked them out with you.”

“Sure,” Lily said, sitting down on the sofa next to you, placing your feet on top offer lap to make some space. You made a move to bring your feet down but she shook her head “It’s alright, rest up, you’ve been awake since like 5 am, haven’t you?” You nodded, letting your feet on to lay over her lap “You should just tell James to screw off and sleep in, I can tell you’re not a morning person.” 

You laughed “I wish, but I want to be in top shape for the game and… to be honest, I’m still getting used to my new broom, that’s why I’ve been flying every morning.” Out of nowhere, a pillow was thrown towards your face “Oi, what was that for?” You asked looking at Marlene, who’d been responsible for it. 

“Show off,” she said “I need time to practice with my new broom,” she teased “and then she goes and flies like a professional every single damn time.” You opened your mouth to try to speak but closed it soon after, Marlene continued talking “James has been making the training even tougher so we keep up with her.” 

“Sorry,” you said then “I guess I just really like flying.” After all, it’s in my blood, you thought. You wondered if you’d ever trust them enough to tell them about it, the answer was pretty simple, you already did, and you wanted to, but you knew how dangerous it was.

You stayed talking with the girls for a while, Marlene told you about the time she got on the quidditch team, Lily talked about being exceptionally good at potions and being invited to an exclusive party with Slughorn and Mary told you about the private classes she had been taking with Madam Pomfrey, about all the new potions and spells she had learned. 

“It’s finally 11,” said Lily when Mars finished the story about the worst date she had gone on, she’d been invited to a magical restaurant, that had been jinxed by an angry customer the previous day, it had been absolute mayhem. 

You stood up, stretching yourself “We should probably get going,” you said with a smile. She nodded and picked her backpack up, taking out a piece of paper and handing it over. You looked at her puzzled.

“It’s a nigh pass, I asked McGonagall for it,” she told you “We can go out and Filnch won’t say a thing.” 

“Oh nice,” you said looking at the paper, boy, how easy would it be to make duplicates of it, with different dates. “Shall we?” You asked tilting your head towards the door. She nodded and the two of you walked towards the portrait of the fat lady. 

“Good luck girls!” You heard Marlene shout from behind.

“Yeah, we’ll be back in the bedroom.”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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