#did virtual training today

[iceripperthethird]

Ladies and gentlethem, due to personal reasons,

[iliketomatosauce]

When you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to, publish them, and send this ask to the last 10 people in your notifs 💗

Little Flaws - Lady Lamb

Black Out Days - Phantogram

Too Precious - Em Beihold

Go-A shum x Maneskin Zitti e Buoni (mashup) - (artist names are )

The Water is Fine - Chloe Ament

these were off the top of my head study hall songs, so these are really random and i probably missed a lot that i like...still, these are super good :) plus this was a treat to get in my inbox, tysm!

[crowwwwws]

i hated food service but somehow i doubt im gonna like retail any better

[anto-pops]

Cheirophilia - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Following the summer leading up to your seventh year, you return to Hogwarts to discover that Sebastian has undergone changes that greatly appeal to the eye. Your eye, to be specific. There’s no easy way to tell the man you’ve been dating for two years that your attention has been fixed on a part of him otherwise deemed normal, but after a while, you’re forced to face the truth of the matter. 

Alternatively summarized as you have a hand kink and Sebastian Sallow has extremely nice hands.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, hand kink, size difference

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)

You had to be losing your mind. That was the only plausible explanation for the wild, unrestrained thoughts that had been plaguing your brain for the last week every time you so much as glanced at Sebastian. Yes, he was attractive. He was charming and confident, and quite frankly he was the epitome of male perfection as far as you were concerned. Not a day went by where you didn’t consider yourself lucky to be able to call him yours, and you knew he was just as enamored with you.

But your newfound infatuation with his hands had started relatively recently, and you had no clue what to make of it. 

Sebastian was touchy to begin with, and he always had been. From casually brushing shoulders with you in the Great Hall during mealtimes, to tucking your hair behind your ears at night– the man was constantly finding ways to be closer to you, and your appreciation for his efforts knew no bounds. It made you feel treasured, wanted, revered, and a slew of other things that made your heart swell with affection. Maybe you could attribute your blatant ogling of his appendages to that, or maybe you had just finally started to notice after your Divination class last week. 

Professor Onai, for all her outlandish preachings on clairvoyance, had taken a more mundane approach in teaching her students ‘fortune telling’ a few days ago. “Palm reading,” she had said, “is a delicate and fixed art. It can be as vague as it can be accurate, and it takes an expertly trained eye to decipher the true meaning behind the grooves in one’s hand.” 

You were far from an expert in anything relating to Divination, but you did have an eye for nice things, and Merlin– were Sebastian’s hands exquisite. They were nearly twice the size of yours and covered in calluses, a lingering sign of the grueling physical labor he’d done over the summer in Feldcroft. His fingers weren’t as dainty as Ominis’, but they were long, thick, and lined with pulsing veins that stretched across the backs of his hands and coiled around his toned forearms. As you’d traced the lines on his palm with your fingers, he’d shivered at the featherlight feeling and chuckled at the deferential way you seemed to commit every part of the appendage to memory. 

You didn’t even want to begin to recount the way your heart had hammered in your chest when it had been his turn to read your palm. Maintaining your composure had taken every ounce of willpower in your body.

Since then, your mind had wandered an unhealthy amount.

By some miracle, Sebastian hadn’t noticed your unwavering eye contact with his hands yet. The two of you had been kept preoccupied with the mountains of classwork that came with the start of the new school year, and as a result, your only opportunities to spend time with him had been during mealtimes. Today was different, however, because Lucan had finally set up the first Crossed Wands match of the season. You and Sebastian were both participating, and your boyfriend was all too eager to jump back into dueling after the summer months spent away. 

Your eyes scanned him dutifully from across the room, watching with rapt interest as he chatted with Brattleby about the upcoming fight. Sebastian had grown considerably since your fifth-year, virtually towering over Lucan as he looked down at the curly haired Gryffindor. The latter had gone through a growth spurt of his own, but it was easy to overlook him when he was standing next to your boyfriend. Sebastian was big; broad shouldered with long, powerful legs and thick wrists that complimented his massive, mouthwatering hands. 

Said hands were fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt as he rolled them up, nodding down at Lucan as he replied to something the younger boy had said. You didn’t know what they were discussing, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. His deft fingers adjusted his uniform as he prepared for your duo’s duel, and instead of following suit, you were unabashedly studying his every move. That is, until a voice from your left drew your attention. 

“Did something happen over summer?” 

You startled easily, warranting an eye roll from Imelda as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the wall. It was a rarity to find her in the Crossed Wands courtyard, but you knew she had been hounding members of the Quidditch team to prepare for trial runs and scrimmages, and Sebastian factored into that assortment of people. Schooling your nerves the best you could, you started to shed your robe in an effort to simultaneously get ready for the duel and distract from the metaphorical eye candy across the room. 

“What do you mean,” you asked vaguely, keeping your eyes pointed at the floor as you moved. 

Imelda was having none of it– clearly smarter than you deigned to give her credit for. “Don’t play coy with me. You’re always checking Sallow out, but since we’ve been back it’s ten times worse. Did he sprout a second cock or something?” 

You damn near choked on your own tongue as you whipped around to glare at her. “Do you have to be so crass all the time?” 

She waved you off, “Yes, I do. Who else would rile you up this way if not myself? Now answer the question.” 

Heaving a deep sigh, you draped your robe over a stack of crates and began to gather your hair back into a loose braid as you muttered, “No, nothing happened over summer.”

“But something is going on. Come on,” she implored with a taunting tone, her brown eyes glimmering with amusement. “At least tell me if it’s something bad.” 

“It’s not bad,” you relented. “It’s– I’m not sure what it is, to be honest. We haven’t even done anything since we’ve been back, we’ve been too busy. But…”

You trailed off, staring at the wall behind Imelda as you brought your hair over your shoulder to finish off the plait. She waited patiently, however, all too eager to get the inside scoop on your love life. “But?”

“I don’t know– have you ever found yourself focused on other body parts? Like, really random parts of another person?” 

The Quidditch captain’s face shifted into a confused expression as she chanced a look at Sebastian, evidently trying to figure out what on Godric’s green Earth you were referring to. “Uh, no? If you’re talking about his feet though then I’m going to ask that you forget I even brought this up–”

“No!” You blurted loudly, drawing the attention of a handful of students in the courtyard, Sebastian included. He cocked a brow at you from across the room, and you flashed him a bashful smile in silent reply before mouthing a timid ‘sorry’. Imelda snickered under her breath when you turned back to her, a deep scowl settling on your face. “Dammit, not his fucking feet. I’m talking about his hands. He has really nice hands– I never noticed before.” 

“You’re telling me you’ve had your knickers in a twist for the last week and a half because of Sallow’s hands?” 

To say Imelda looked dumbstruck would be an understatement, and you suddenly felt incredibly stupid for having said anything at all. You kept your eyes downcast as you tossed your braided hair over your shoulder and slid your wand free from its holster, doing your best to ignore the woman’s burning stare. “Nevermind– forget I mentioned it.” 

“I doubt I could even if I wanted to, but for the sake of your dignity I’ll go grab a seat and let you get your head in the game.” You felt your cheeks heat up instantly in response to her snide comment, and you lifted your eyes in time to watch Imelda turn towards the far corner of the room with a smile on her face. She paused before taking off, murmuring over her shoulder, “Make sure you’re paying attention to your opponents and not Sallow’s hands.”

Sweet Merlin… you should have kept your big mouth shut.

***

As it turned out, your head was so far out of the game that it became collateral in the midst of your duo’s duel. 

It was your own fault, really. Despite doing your best to focus on the task at hand, your eyes had continually wandered over to Sebastian, tracking his movements as he fired spell after spell in retaliation against your opponents. He had always been exceptionally graceful while fighting– be it in Crossed Wands or in the Highlands at your side– and his sudden growth spurt over summer had only added to his preexisting agility. It was all too easy for you to get absorbed in his fluid movements as he ducked and rolled, then blocked and countered every attack with astonishing finesse. 

Unfortunately, that meant you were left wholly unprepared for the Depulso charm that sent you careening across the room into a stack of crates. Your head had been positively spinning as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, but your vision cleared in time to watch as Sebastian abandoned the duel entirely to hurry over to where you lay prone against the broken wood. Lucan had shouted something about the match being called off, but you could hardly pay any attention to his words with Sebastian fretting over you, mere inches from your face. 

“Merlin’s bloody balls, what the hell happened?” The brunet hadn’t even given you ample time to reply before he had hoisted you up in his strong, capable arms to carry you to the Hospital Wing. 

That was how you’d ended up where you were now; laid out in an uncomfortable hospital bed with Nurse Blainey hovering too close for comfort while your boyfriend sat beside you with his arms crossed stiffly over his chest. His expression was virtually unreadable, but you weren’t able to focus on him for long without your head pounding in silent protest. 

“Drink this,” Nurse Blainey dutifully instructed, thrusting a vial of Wiggenweld in front of you as she scanned your bandaged temple. “It will help with the swelling and the gods-awful headache I’m sure you’re sporting. My diagnostic spells came back negative for any internal injuries, but that doesn’t mean you can rush back to your foolhardy dueling club. A concussion is a concussion, no matter how small.” 

Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth so you nodded in response instead of speaking– only to instantly regret the movement. Sharp, concentrated pain shot through your head, and you took it as a sign to carefully knock back the contents of the potion she’d given you. A soothing warmth overtook you in a split second, and the throbbing in your skull lessened considerably, prompting you to relax against the pillows situated behind you as your eyelids fluttered. Evidently pleased with your subdued demeanor, Nurse Blainey jotted something down on the clipboard that had been tucked under her arm before turning to Sebastian. 

“I trust that you’ll ensure she actually takes it easy for the next few days, Mr. Sallow?” 

Your eyes cracked open in time to watch Sebastian’s gaze flicker to yours, and the muscle in his jaw ticked as his attention zero’d in on the thick bandage that now adorned your head. “Of course. She’ll be a model patient for as long as needed.” 

Satisfied with his agreement, Nurse Blainey pivoted on her heel and strode to the back end of the room, leaving you and Sebastian alone in a tense silence. 

Heaving a heavy sigh, you gathered your hands in your lap and let your head tip back against the bed frame, wanting nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. All of this because you couldn’t stop ogling your boyfriend for a measly twenty minutes when it mattered most… it was an embarrassing and stupid mistake to acknowledge. Moreover, you’d basically ruined the first Crossed Wands duel of the season– something you knew had to be bothering Sebastian, given his competitive nature. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled half-heartedly. “I should have been paying closer attention.”

Sebastian scoffed to your left, and when you peered at him through the corner of your eye, his head looked like it was on the verge of imploding. “Are you seriously apologizing for getting a concussion right now?” 

There was no stopping the frown that spread across your face, and you nervously started picking at your cuticles as your mouth opened, shut, then opened again. “Yes– I mean– no. I’m sorry that the match got canceled because of me. You were probably excited to get back into Crossed Wands and I just… messed it up. I wasn’t thinking clearly out there.” 

“Obviously,” Sebastian countered easily, the amused glimmer in his eyes vanishing before you could take proper note of it. “You’re never one to let your mind wander when you fight, but you have to know I’m not mad about the duel. I was worried about you– I don’t think you realize how terrifying it is to see you of all people bleeding.” 

You gaze fell to your lap as you pursed your lips and lifted your hand to the bandage taped to your temple, trying and failing to recall if you’d actually bled at all. It was all something of a blur if you were being honest. When you looked up at Sebastian once more, he had sat forward in his seat and was reaching towards you, wearing an expression that was equal parts concerned and curious. With your brain still muddled, all you could really do was stare wide-eyed at the nearing culprit of your misfortune; his Merlin-be-damned hands. Those long, flexing digits came to gently stroke the side of your cheek, turning your head to the side briefly to allow him a good look at your patched up face, and as Sebastian tsk’d disapprovingly, you were fighting back a slew of unholy thoughts that had no business arising in the midst of such a tender moment. 

The side of his mouth quirked up as he thought back to your debacle in the clock tower courtyard. “Did your inability to ‘think clearly’ have anything to do with whatever you and Imelda were talking about earlier?” 

Being reminded of your discussion with the Slytherin woman at such an inopportune time caused your face to flush a deep red, and you nervously clasped your boyfriend’s larger hand in your notably smaller one and drew it into your lap. You gently thumbed over the veins on the back of his hand, taking note of the constellation of freckles that ran up his wrist and forearm, and you saw Sebastian tilt his head to the side as he let you fondle the limb. 

“Maybe…” you drawled lazily. Perhaps you would chalk it up to your concussion later on, or perhaps you just wanted to get your insane obsession off your chest. Regardless of the why, you steeled your nerves and swallowed thickly before muttering, “You have really nice hands.” 

Silence. Sebastian said nothing– and that was considerably worse than him saying something– anything. Your brows slammed down just as you lifted your head to gauge his reaction, only to discover a bewildered smile plastered on his smarmy face. 

“…I think you hit your head harder than I thought. Should I call Nurse Blainey back over here?”

Ah. He thought you were delusional. Brilliant. 

Letting go of him as though his skin were heated metal, you sighed and sat forward to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, shivering slightly when Sebastian placed his hand on your hip to steady you. His face conveyed genuine apprehension as he asked, “Are you sure you should be trying to move right now?” 

Part of you was thankful he hadn’t taken your confession seriously, but another stronger part of you was annoyed that you had said anything to begin with. Here was Sebastian, acting chivalrous and doting on you in the wake of you flying face first into a crate, and all you cared to think about was having his hands on you. On your bare skin, between your legs, around your neck…

Something was definitely wrong with you. 

“I’m alright– stop worrying. I promise I won’t overdo it. At this point I just want to eat and go to sleep.” Thankfully he made no move to stop you when you stood yourself up on shaky legs, instead placing that damnable hand on the small of your back to help you keep your balance. You closed your eyes momentarily to will away the vile, uncouth thoughts that seemed to run rampant in your concussed skull, but if the way his fingers tensed against you was any indication, Sebastian clearly thought your brief pause was due to your injury.

“Fine,” he bit out, sounding all too displeased with your stubbornness. “Food, then straight to your dorm. But if I think for even a second you can’t manage, I’m carrying you to bed myself.” 

It hurt to do it, but your eye roll was heavily warranted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, dad.” 

As the two of you walked from the Hospital Wing to the Great Hall, you realized just how serious Sebastian was about his promise to Nurse Blainey. His hands were constantly hovering at your side, ready to catch you at a moment's notice in the event you required the help, which you fortunately weren’t in need of. You didn’t think you could take any more coddling– or any more… hands-on-torment, so to speak. 

Ominis joined the two of you for lunch shortly after you’d arrived, and you were unsurprised to discover that he was very much aware of your blunder in Crossed Wands earlier. He made sure you were in good spirits and feeling alright before he began nagging you in typical Ominis fashion. 

“Honestly, a Depulso charm?” He chastised you further, resting his chin on his palm as his other hand came to tap absentmindedly against the surface of the table. “I would have expected something like Bombarda to finally end your win-streak, not a paltry Force spell.” 

“That’s what happens when you get complacent,” Sebastian added helpfully, skewering yet another sausage from the platter in front of you. He had to have inhaled four of the blasted things already. Those deep brown eyes of his darkened as they shifted to the injury on your temple, and if he deposited his food on his plate a little more aggressively than normal, you certainly didn’t say anything about it. “She’s just lucky things didn’t end up worse.” 

Ominis hummed in agreement and looked in your direction. “Yes, do make sure you’re not breaking your fall with your face anymore. I would like to think the three of us will graduate in one piece together, but between the two of you and your extracurriculars, my hopes are lessening by the day.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” came your monotonous reply. “Thanks for the words of encouragement, guys. You really know how to make a girl feel better about getting launched into a bunch of boxes.” 

“Well it was quite the spectacle. I’m sure you’ll be the talk of the school for at least a few days, so get used to it.” 

You didn’t even need to turn around to know Imelda stood directly behind you, presumably with her hands on her hips and a wicked smile stretching from ear to ear. She was exactly who you didn’t want to deal with right about now– especially considering she was the only living soul privy to your innermost thoughts regarding Sebastian– but she had no qualms about sidling up beside you and making herself comfortable at the table. Her face swam into your peripheral vision as she inquisitively scanned the side of your head now decked out in thick gauze and tape. “So, what’s the verdict? Brain hemorrhage? Cracked skull? Memory loss?” 

“Concussion,” Sebastian answered around a mouthful of food. He fixed you with a stern look as though to remind you, “She’s been instructed to take it easy for a few days which means no broom trials, Reyes. Don’t even think about dragging her off the castle grounds.” 

The Quidditch captain’s hands shot up in mock surrender, her expression the picture of innocence as she shifted back a little in her seat. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I take it that means you’ll be out of class for the foreseeable future?” 

You answered swiftly this time around, lest your boyfriend deign to speak on your behalf once again. You’d hurt your head, not your mouth. “For today at least, yeah. I doubt I’d be much good in Transfiguration with a splitting headache.” 

If you were only allowed one word to describe the look that overtook Imelda’s face, that word would be trouble. Her tawny eyes crinkled at their corners as a mischievous glint twinkled within them, and you could practically see her gearing up to say something you knew would piss you off. She folded her hands neatly over one another atop the table and leaned sideways on her elbow to shoot you a conniving look, and you couldn’t help but stiffen as a wave of apprehension crept up your spine. 

“Well let me know if you need a hand getting notes for the day. Though I’m sure Sallow would be more than happy to assist. Isn’t that right, Sebastian?” 

The emphasis she placed on the word didn’t escape you, and judging by the confused expressions on both Ominis’ and Sebastian’s faces, they didn’t miss it either. It took unwavering focus to maintain your composure and not react, and you prayed to whatever higher power existed that your cheeks weren’t as rouge as they felt. You sighed softly and glanced at the brunet through your lashes, all too aware of the puzzled look he now bore. “How about it?” You opted to simply play along for the time being in a bid to hide the true meaning behind Imelda’s telling comment. “Can you bring me the notes later?”

Sebastian nodded slowly, his gaze shifting between you and Imelda for a long moment before he set his fork down and ran his long, dexterous fingers through his hair. Your eyes tracked the movement against your will, which only seemed to intensify the curious glimmer in his dark eyes, and when he flashed you that sinful Sallow smirk you were all too familiar with, you swallowed nervously. 

Surely Imelda hadn’t just helped him put two and two together, right? 

“Am I missing something here?” Ominis chimed in from across the table, a scowl tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“No, no,” Imelda said, the words dripping with false dismissal. The urge to throttle her was intense. “I was just implying that our dear friend here is bound to be a handful for the next few days, so she’ll need help. Let me know if I can do anything, although I’m sure you’d much rather have Sebastian be the one to–”

She was cut off by the booming slap of your hands against the tabletop as you clambered to your feet, desperate to escape her pointed comments and Sebastian’s prying stare. “Will do!” you exclaimed with too much bite. You lowered your voice and did your best to keep your tone even, “I’m sure I’ll manage, but I can’t be bothered to figure it all out right now. I’ll just– I’ll see you guys later.” 

You didn’t dare look back as you swung your legs over the bench and took off towards the massive double doors. At this point, you were wishing that your collision with the crates had put you in a coma. Maybe then you could have avoided Imelda’s inevitable pestering, but even then you were positive your nuisance of a friend would have found a way to taunt you in your dreams. This was something you were going to have to acknowledge with Sebastian sooner or later, but until that day came you would do everything in your power to avoid any more awkward run-ins with Imelda. At least when Sebastian was with you, you reasoned. For now, you needed to get away from the general public and sleep on your deranged thoughts before anything else embarrassing could happen.

Apparently the universe had other plans for you, however. You recognized Sebastian’s heavy footsteps running up behind you without even checking to be certain, and even though you wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep the remainder of the day away, when his large hand came to coil around your bicep to halt you in your tracks, you let him. 

“Hey, are you alright?” His eyes softened as they took in your miserable appearance, but all you could pay attention to was the feeling of his thumb caressing the back of your arm as he held you in place. “I’m sorry if I upset you– I didn’t realize Imelda was trying to poke bruises, otherwise I would have told her to leave as soon as she came over.” 

Shaking your head absently, you stared over Sebastian’s shoulder and directed your next words towards the wall, because that was infinitely easier than eye contact at the present moment. “I’m not upset, you don’t have to apologize. She’s just… a lot to handle right now.”

“I’ll say,” he concurred easily, moving his head so it was in your line of sight– only to furrow his brow when you ducked your chin to avoid looking at him. His jaw clenched and his hand around your arm tightened, if only briefly, and then he was tugging you along after him. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm.” 

***

He knew. 

He had to know. 

It was the only plausible explanation you could come up with to give reason to Sebastian’s over-exaggerated use of his hands for the last three days. At first you hadn’t thought much of it; you still had a staring problem and Sebastian still had really nice hands, but the difference in the last seventy-two hours was apparent. It was as though your boyfriend was modeling his hands for you, constantly finding ways to dangle the appendages right under your nose and simultaneously letting his touch linger against your skin for far longer than normal. It was driving you insane, and you were positive he was doing it intentionally. 

Realistically it had started the day after your botched Crossed Wands duel. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had been sitting in the Library to study and work on assignments, your motley trio focused intently on your individual work for the bulk of the afternoon. Ominis was using his dictation quill to take notes, his foggy blue eyes narrowed in concentration while he muttered softly under his breath. Sebastian skimmed his own Herbology textbook with hooded eyes, the book propped against the knee he had crossed over his other leg, and his laid back posture coupled with the way his fingers idly played with the hair around his temples was enough to leave you entranced. Once he had taken notice of your staring, however, he’d smirked to himself and made a show of licking his finger to turn the page over, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. 

You didn’t need a mirror to know you’d flushed beet red at the suggestive act. 

The day after that, the two of you had been in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Sebastian had been asked to demonstrate the proper wand movement for Confringo by Professor Hecat, and shortly thereafter she had asked another student, Hector Jenkins, to take point across from your boyfriend for a friendly duel. Naturally you were prohibited from participating without Nurse Blainey’s go-ahead, so you’d stood at the back of the crowd and looked on ahead with rapt interest, eager to watch Sebastian make short work of his opponent, because of course he would. Chocolate brown eyes had met yours from across the room, and the movement that followed was subtle but obvious– at least, to you it was. 

As Professor Hecat droned on and reminded her students of the rules that went hand-in-hand with dueling in class, Sebastian fondled his wand. Quite literally. His nimble fingers had run along the wood, stroking the handle with such a light touch that his pinky had remained elevated the entire time. His thumb and index finger came to pinch at the tip softly before skimming down towards the checkered handle, and he made a dramatic show of wrapping each one of his fingers around the base before deftly angling the thin wood at you. 

Your breath had caught in your throat at the brazen motion, and Sebastian shamelessly winked at you before settling into the usual, confident persona he embodied while fighting. 

To say you’d become a ball of nerves afterwards would be a monumental understatement. You wound up leaning back against the wall with your ankles crossed to ease the rampant ache that had settled between your legs, doing your best to not look like you were going into an animalistic heat, which was easier said than done. 

Later on during dinner in the Great Hall, you found yourself seated next to Sebastian and across from Ominis, as per usual. The evening had started out much the same as always; with the three of you discussing the events of the day and planning for the upcoming weekend. The only difference was your boyfriend had seemingly taken it upon himself to distract you from the conversation entirely, covertly placing his hand on your thigh beneath the table to run the damn thing up and down your leg. Every time he reached your knee, he would steadily drag his palm higher up, teasing you with an occasional squeeze the closer he got to your center. Since you didn’t want to clue Ominis in on his best friend’s antics you were forced to keep your lips firmly sealed– left with no choice but to silently endure your boyfriend’s unique form of torture. 

As Ominis idly discussed wanting to escape to The Three Broomsticks on Saturday, Sebastian’s grip on your leg tightened while he sat forward to spoon a serving of the night’s dessert onto his plate; a colorful fruit tart with a healthy dollop of whipped cream slapped on top. You swallowed thickly as he delicately skewered a strawberry with his fork and brought it to his lips, pausing to reply to Ominis before popping it in his mouth. 

“I’m game, better to go now before Quidditch practice starts again. Merlin only knows how many trials Imelda intends on cramming into my weekends before long.” 

Ominis snorted and set his cutlery down on his plate, “You say that as though she’s doing it to spite you and you alone. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s six other people to account for on the team, and not all of them were blessed with the free time to practice over summer like you.” 

Sebastian side-eyed you briefly, and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a condescending grin. “That has a whole lot of nothing to do with me and everything to do with them being lazy. But my point still stands– that woman lives to invade my free time, so butterbeers this weekend sounds like a solid plan. What do you say, darling?” 

The brunet chose that exact moment to sensually take the strawberry between his teeth and pull it free from the fork prongs, smiling wickedly at you all the while. A tiny bit of the whipped cream had stayed behind on his bottom lip, but before you could point it out to him or wipe it away yourself, Sebastian did exactly that, drawing his finger into his mouth to suck deviously at the remnants. Your eyes were wider than saucers as you watched his tongue lave over the pad of his thumb and forefinger, and the telling squeeze he bestowed upon your thigh immediately afterwards all but confirmed your fears. 

He absolutely fucking knew. 

***

“I think there’s something on your mind,” Sebastian said from beside you. “Something that’s been on your mind for a while now. Care to share?” 

The two of you were on your way to the Room of Requirement, having just left the Hospital Wing after Nurse Blainey had summoned you there to evaluate your recovery progress following your mentally arduous week. She’d been all too pleased when Sebastian told her you had adhered to her guidelines to the letter– minimizing your physical activity and resting at every opportune moment, much to your boyfriend’s credit. After a few diagnostic scans, mobility trials, and a never ending list of questions designed to test your memory, she had deemed you fit to return to your usual activities– though not before making you swear to stay out of her sight for the rest of the year. 

Affectionately, of course. 

Sebastian’s comment reeled you back to the present moment, however, and you shot him a stern look out of the corner of your eye as you ascended the spiral staircase within the Astronomy Tower. “Unless you’re referring to how stunned I’ve been thanks to your obscene behavior this week, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He skipped ahead of you until he reached the top landing, spinning on his heel to face you as you breezed past him without so much as a second glance. “Oh, but I think you do. Surely you know why I’ve been behaving so ‘obscenely’. You’re the one who gave me the idea after all.” 

Keeping your expression schooled was difficult, but you managed. As the wall concealing the door to the Room of Requirement began to shift and change, you were all too aware of Sebastian sidling up next to you so he could run the tips of his fingers up your arm and over your shoulder, sending shiver-inducing chills down your spine. The gesture was intimate and suggestive, and you sighed softly as you stepped out of his reach to make for the fully formed entryway in front of you– not particularly keen on putting on a show for any students that potentially milled about the tower. 

You made it three steps inside the room before Sebastian grabbed you by your shoulder and spun you sideways, swiftly and effortlessly guiding you backwards until your back collided with the wall, and the startled gasp that ripped from your chest seemed to ignite a spark of interest in your boyfriend’s eyes. The hand he had on you traveled up along the smooth skin of your neck until he had a loose grip on your chin, and the sinful way his thumb trailed over your bottom lip spoke volumes about his intentions. 

“Do I need to coax the truth out of you, or can you be a good girl and say what it is you want?” His other hand slipped beneath the fabric of your blouse, his touch blazing and leaving you hot with want the higher up your torso it traveled. The tantalizing feeling of his blunt nails scraping along the plane of your stomach had your muscles clenching and your breath hitching, and Sebastian dipped his head lower so he was directly in your line of sight. You knew he saw your rampant need for him reflected in your eyes when his pupils dilated, and he moved his thumb away from your lip to caress your cheekbone as you stared wide-eyed up at him. He cocked his head to the side as he goaded you further, “Come on, darling. You’ve never had a problem with saying what’s on your mind before, why switch up on me now?” 

“Because it–” you started to say, cutting off mid-explanation when Sebastian curled his long fingers around your waist to press against your ribs in a way that nullified all coherent thought. His domineering presence over you left you nearly breathless. 

He smirked, all too aware of the effect he currently had on you. “It what?” 

Merlin, he was doing you in with barely any effort. Reducing you to nothing at the hands of his… well, hands. You were pathetic. He waited for your response though, his fingers dancing up your side promisingly while you worked to formulate a sentence. “I-It’s ridiculous,” you stammered out. “It’s embarrassing…”

The hand he’d tenderly ghosted across your cheek slipped behind your head, and his fingers tangled in your hair at the back of your skull to tug gently. The motion forced you to crane your chin up to follow Sebastian’s unwavering gaze, and his lips were close enough to yours that you felt his airy chuckle fan across your nose. “I already know what it is and I can tell you this much; you and I have very different definitions of what qualifies as ‘embarrassing’, darling.” His head dipped into the crook of your neck so he could better bestow wet, open mouthed kisses against your thundering pulse, and your stomach flipped at the sordid sounds he made as he went. “Come on, say it,” he implored you, his voice like velvet. “It’s only us here– tell me what you want.” 

“I…” you began, shuddering immediately after when Sebastian nipped at the spit-slick skin of your throat. Finding the words was only going to get increasingly difficult from here on out, you wagered. “I want your hands on me. I haven’t been able to get the thought out of my mind since school started.”

As though to punctuate his retort, Sebastian’s hold on your hair and your waist intensified, and a barely there squeak weaseled its way past your lips as he pulled away from your throat to fix you with a heated look. “My hands are already on you, sweetheart. Tell me why, use your big girl voice.”

Bastard. Your eyes sharpened in response to his quip, and your palms came to rest flat against the larger man’s chest before you dug your nails into the fabric of his shirt. “Because you really do have very nice hands. Because the mere idea of having them on me does things to me that I can’t begin to describe. And because I’m asking you nicely,” you purred the last bit to the best of your ability, relishing in the insatiable, hungry look that crossed Sebastian’s face at your tone. “Touch me, Sebastian. I want you– all of you. Please?”

As soon as Sebastian’s lips captured yours, your inhibitions ceased to exist. All you could taste, smell, feel, and hear was him, and judging by the demanding way he pulled you flush against him by your waist, that was exactly what he was going for. You keened needily as his nails dug into your sensitive skin and the fingers buried in your hair wound tight around the strands, and your boyfriend eagerly bit at your lips before backing away just enough to stare at you through his hooded, lust-dark eyes. 

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll do anything you want,” he groaned, utterly captivated by the sight of you so wound up. You caved to his ministrations completely then, your stomach flipping over on itself when his chest pressed against yours and sealed you more firmly to the wall. His groin followed soon after– the long, hard length of him tangible through his trousers as he leaned into your spread legs further– and your own hands finally came to grasp at his shoulders when he rolled his hips against yours fervently. 

“Touch me,” you implored him, the request practically a whisper as it fell from your lips. “Your hands– please, Sebastian.” 

A pleased sound snaked its way through Sebastian’s clenched teeth as he obliged you instantly, releasing your waist and hair to run his hands down your torso before delving beneath your shirt. The rough, chill-inducing feeling of his calloused palms trailing against the bare skin of your stomach had you moaning in earnest, and your head tipped back against the wall with a thunk as he cupped your breasts in those heavenly hands you’d grown to adore so much. Sebastian took full advantage of your submissive position and buried his head in the exposed crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he murmured, “You sound incredible when you beg, darling. So fucking perfect– gods.” 

No words came to you to formulate a reply, especially when your boyfriend’s tongue darted out of his mouth to lave down the slender column of your throat, the biting sting of his teeth on your shoulder following soon after. Your next breath caught in your chest when Sebastian ground his stiffening cock against you once more, and his airy chuckle against you was seductive and ripe with promise. Those nimble fingers of his clawed gently over the rounded tops of your breasts before pinching your hardened nipples, and that was what finally pulled coherent English from your lips. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, unaware of just how much the brunet adored the needy timbre to your voice. 

Sebastian’s hands left your body for the briefest of moments to push himself off the wall, then took you by the hand to guide you towards the small bedroom tucked away in the back of the Room of Requirement. Between the two of you, your combined excitement was palpable– thick enough to cut with a knife– and as soon as you made it through the threshold of the door, he was back on you in a heartbeat. It was all a flurry of lips, teeth, and tongue as he steered you backwards towards the spacious bed, those magnificent hands of his holding your hips steady with firm reassurance. 

Once the backs of your calves connected with the mattress, Sebastian pulled away from your mouth with a wicked smirk, giving you a playful shove that sent you sprawling back on the bed with a startled yelp. It hardly mattered, though. Not when the man before you began undoing the buttons on his own shirt, exposing the tanned, freckled expanse of his toned chest. Not when he shrugged the attire off his sculpted shoulders and lowered himself to his knees so he could peer at you over your bent knees. Nothing else mattered aside from him.

“You know,” he started to say as his hands reappeared on your hips, tugging at the waistline of your trousers so they started to slide over your hip bones. “You’ve inadvertently given me lots of new ideas.” 

A shiver coursed its way down your spine at the suggestive tone he spoke the words with, amplified tenfold by the unrepentant fantasies that flickered through your mind. “Oh really?” 

“Really,” he agreed simply. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he gestured wordlessly for you to lift your hips so he could slide your pants down your outstretched legs. You obeyed, if only to get a move on with things so you could see the new ‘ideas’ Sebastian had apparently come up with. Dark, eager eyes met yours as he dropped your clothing to the floor, and then Sebastian asked, “Do you trust me?” 

Without missing a beat, you murmured, “Always.” 

Not another word was uttered, and you watched through hooded eyes as Sebastian prowled up the edge of the mattress to crawl over your prone form. Amusement seemingly glimmered in his lust-laden gaze as he set to expertly unbuttoning your shirt with his adroit digits, revealing inch after inch of your flushed torso, and goosebumps broke out over your stomach in the wake of Sebastian’s knuckles brushing against your heated flesh. 

He didn’t bother removing your blouse fully, opting to instead flick the sides of the undone top outward to let them hang disheveled against your sides. The shallow, anticipatory breaths you let loose was the only sound you made as the freckled man above you gathered your wrists in one of his larger hands to pin them above your head, and the entire time he worked to restrain your arms, his eye contact with you remained unwavering. Warriness and excitement alike pooled in the lower pit of your gut, mixing with the telltale ache between your legs that fueled the heat that slithered through your veins. 

Sebastian’s free hand came to touch you then, starting at the swell of your breasts before he gently thumbed over the peak of one of your nipples. The sensation had you sucking in a breath loud enough to make your boyfriend pause– only for him to repeat the motion a second time. “You’re rather pent up, aren’t you?” 

Despite yourself, you narrowed your eyes in response to his taunting and rolled your head to the side in an attempt to hide the blush you knew spread across your cheeks. “Shut up…”

The hand on your breast flew to your face, gripping your chin and turning your head back so you were forced to meet his penetrating stare. “Come on, be honest,” he goaded you further. “You missed me. Say it.” 

“Of course I missed you,” you relented quickly. “I didn’t see you for two months.”

That damnable smirk of his made its grand reappearance, and you hated how much you loved the sight of it. “You managed well enough last summer. Or were you lying through your teeth about handling the distance ‘easily’ on your travels?” 

Your fingers twitched in his unrelenting hold, the urge to crane your neck away again taking over, but you were forced to keep your eyes trained on his. “I wasn’t lying then, but I still missed you.”

The way his head tilted to the side curiously reminded you of an animal attempting to get a better look at their prey. “So why the sudden change?”

Chewing your lip thoughtfully for a moment, you decided to voice your inner thoughts regardless of how bashful the idea made you feel. “Because you changed. You’re… bigger.”

Your drab attempt at an explanation didn’t escape Sebastian, but that amusement still glinted in his eyes as he released your chin and trailed his hand down your torso towards your aching center. “Bigger, huh? Care to elaborate?” 

Skillful fingers slipped under the cotton of your undergarments, already damp with arousal, and you mewled softly when one of his digits slid through your wet folds before pressing down on your clit with delectable pressure. It nearly derailed your train of thought entirely, but Sebastian helpfully pulled away and snickered when your disappointed sigh slipped through your clenched teeth. “Dammit–”

“You talk,” he fucking purred down at you, looking far too smug for your liking, “and I work. Sound like a fair trade?” 

His offer was emphasized by one of his fingers probing at your slick entrance, further enticing you to oblige his request. When you angled your hips to meet the feeling, he pulled back swiftly, quirking a brow at you with a knowing look. 

Bastard, you thought. 

Fine. 

“Y-You’re bigger,” you started to say. “More muscular than before, and I think you grew a couple inches.” 

Sebastian’s hand resumed its teasing exploration of your center once more, gingerly inserting his middle finger inside of you as his thumb took to rubbing titillating circles against your clit. The flutter of your eyelids brought a coy smile to the brunet’s face, and his hold on your wrists tightened a fraction as he increased the intensity of his movements. He mockingly said, “You like having a big, strong boyfriend or something? The scandal.” 

You barely registered the gibe– not with his thumb slowly working over your clit in time with his finger. It damn near voided all of your brain’s function. All you cared to focus on was the bliss that came with finally having his hands on you. “Yes,” you groaned with blatant need. “I love it– I love it so much– you’re perfect, Sebastian.” 

Spurred on by your praise, Sebastian leaned down to mouth wetly at your throat, biting and sucking at whatever smooth skin he found as he pumped his finger in and out of your wet heat steadily. Your head rolled to the side to allow him easier access as he presumably worked a bruise into your flesh, and you relished in the knowledge that he was rebranding you as his after the summer months spent apart. A guttural moan spilled from your mouth as he laved his tongue over the mark and covertly slipped a second finger inside your cunt, crooking the digits up to reach a depth you could never hope to when you were pleasuring yourself. 

He took it slow, half for your sake and half for his own, but as Sebastian scissored his fingers and upped his tempo, he could see how you fell apart for him. You struggled to breathe, your every exhale colored with a panted, needy little sound while your thighs twitched and tensed on either side of his arm. When he shifted his fingers up just slightly, your entire body shuddered as your back arched off the bed and you choked on a breathy whine. You were so sensitive, so incredibly vocal, and it was driving him crazy. 

Sebastian’s size allowed him to stretch over the majority of your upper body easily, his hold on your arms still firm as he dipped his head lower to lick his way down to your breasts. Ever so gently, he took one of your nipples between his teeth and clamped down with a cautious amount of pressure, increasing the pace of his fingers when he heard your breath hitch in your throat. You could feel his lips stretch into a smile against your chest as your heart rate sped up and your hips involuntarily bucked up into his hand in search of more friction– more of him. 

“Merlin–” you writhed atop the sheets as that familiar ache took root in your gut, your finish approaching dangerously fast as Sebastian pressed the palm of his hand against your clit and somehow managed to pump his digits deeper inside of you. “Fuck, fuck!” 

He pulled away from your torso to watch you with rapt interest, a flicker of something primal flashing in his brown eyes as he observed your features pinching together with obvious focus as you chased the euphoria he bestowed upon you. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it… I never thought just my hands could do it for you like this, sweetheart. Consider me pleasantly surprised.” 

His words meant nothing to you– not right now. Your climax was so close, so painfully close that all you cared to focus on was the steady rhythm of Sebastian’s fingers and his strength holding your wrists down to the bed. Brainlessly, you rolled your head to the side as Sebastian worked you towards the edge, only to blink blearily up at him when he released your wrists to grab the underside of your jaw and force your eyes back on him. 

“Look at me while you come on my fingers. I want to see every second of it.” 

Who were you to say no? 

Your release was akin to a tidal wave– crashing over you violently and stealing your breath as you tried your hardest to keep your eyes open and glued to Sebastian. Mouth falling open around an airy moan, your boyfriend continued to finger-fuck you through your orgasm as he captured your lips in a desperate, lethal kiss. “That’s it,” he groaned into your parted lips. “Good girl.” 

The brunet had the good grace to slide his fingers out slowly while he pulled away, laughing softly at the slight jolt your body gave when his palm grazed over your bundle of nerves once more. Dazed and twitching beneath him, you didn’t notice he’d brought his hand to his mouth until it was inches from your face, and the stars clouding your vision cleared just in time to watch him take the two fingers that had previously been inside of you between his lips. 

“I– what are you doing?” Your incredulous tone didn’t deter Sebastian in the slightest, and he smirked around his fingers before pulling them out of his mouth with an audible wet sound. 

“Tasting you,” he said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Then with a wink he added, “You’re very sweet.” Nearly all the blood in your body rushed to your cheeks in that instant, warming your face as your mouth fell open in silent shock. It was balmy– completely and utterly bewildering. Yet you couldn’t help but find the brazen move equally… arousing. 

You’d officially lost your mind. 

In a flash, he lowered his hand closer to your own open mouth, shoving the fingers past your lips and grinning when you squealed with indignant surprise. There was nowhere for you to go– nowhere for you to turn your head to escape the taste of yourself on his digits– and so you were left with no choice but to allow Sebastian to run his fingers along your tongue. The added knowledge that you found his hands so alluring only made the whole spectacle more intimate, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself sucking shamelessly at his skin, working your tongue over his knuckles as you stared up at him with unrestrained desire. 

“Gods,” he muttered, swallowing thickly before pulling his fingers free from your mouth. His voice was shaky, and you dimly registered that your eager submission had gotten to him. 

You licked the remnants of yourself from your lips as Sebastian shuffled back to the edge of the bed, standing straight to hastily undo his trousers and shove the material down his long, toned legs. Numbly, you followed suit, sitting up shakily to shrug off your now wrinkled blouse and toss it aside to join the growing pile of clothing at your boyfriend’s feet. 

Nude as the day he was born, Sebastian confidently stared down at you and took in the full picture of you before him with an animalistic hunger shining in his eyes. His chestnut hair was unruly and curled wildly in every direction, the breaths he hurriedly sucked down causing his shapely chest to rise and fall in a way that dragged your attention to his strong, capable body. You drank in the sight of his tan, freckled skin, your wide eyes roving lower and lower until they landed on his hard cock arching proudly against his taut stomach. 

Maybe you were imagining things, but you could have sworn that was bigger too. 

When your eyes jumped back to Sebastian’s, you were positive he knew exactly what you’d been thinking, if his wolfish grin was anything to go by. “See something you like?” 

“Please fuck me,” you groaned, too turned on by the sight of him alone to be embarassed about how desperate you sounded. 

Sebastian effortlessly crawled back onto the bed and settled over you, pulling you into another intoxicating kiss as he slipped between your spread thighs and rolled his hips, grinding his achingly hard cock against your slit with a dizzying sort of precision. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, your eyes squeezing closed before you tilted your head back and arched up against him. “F-Fuck, you’re so hard,” you gasped, loosely hooking your legs around Sebastian’s hips. 

Groaning his agreement, Sebastian nipped at the side of your jaw and murmured, “You have no idea… want you bad.” He nuzzled your ear for a moment, humming at the way you shivered under him, then mouthed his way down your throat with hot, wet kisses that pulled a slew of tiny noises out of you as he rocked his hips again. 

Before you could wrap your arms around his shoulders like you’d planned, Sebastian was sitting back on his heels to manhandle you exactly where he wanted you. Those big hands of his grabbed you by your waist, hauling you down the bed like you weighed nothing so your rear was balanced over the tops of his knees and he was perfectly aligned with your slick entrance. The way he easily moved you around spoke volumes of the physical labor he’d done over the summer, slaving away the muggle way to restore his Uncle’s former home for the two of you to use after graduation. Every stone moved, every log chopped, and every wheelbarrow trundled was cataloged within the corded muscles that lined his body. 

If you weren’t already head over heels for the man, you were certain you would be deemed grossly smitten.

Sebastian’s hands slid from your waist to your thighs to better hold you in place as he bumped the tip of his cock against you, and your breath stuttered in your chest at the first steady roll of his hips, the head sliding home easily into your slick, tight, and warm heat. Your name fell from your lover’s lips in the form of a ragged moan, fingers digging into your legs as he rocked his hips slowly, feeling for any tension or resistance. Everything he’d done to soothe you, however, had paid off, and he found that once he pressed in more firmly, you took him perfectly, letting him slide deeper with every short thrust. 

He really had gotten bigger.

“I could tell you thought so,” Sebastian said around a laugh. Had you said that out loud? “Your eyes just about bugged out of your head when you looked earlier.” 

Embarrassed for the nth time in the last week, you looked away from him and quietly grumbled under your breath, “Whatever… don’t let it get to your head. Your ego is big enough as it is.” 

“It’s not the only thing that’s big apparently,” he countered easily. As though to punctuate the statement, Sebastian pulled his hips back once more before spearing into you with brutal efficiency, and the gasp that ripped from your throat then was followed by a breathless sound that bordered on a wail. 

It was so thick– Sebastian’s cock– and it filled you up and spread you open so incredibly, but it was the angle that was really rendering you incapable of thought. With your hips elevated, the blunt head brushed past your sweet spot with every dragging thrust, re-lighting that fire in your blood that threatened to set you ablaze. You wanted more, but you were almost afraid of how good it would feel, how high it would take you. Sebastian was all around you, with his hands gripping your thighs, deep inside you, stirring you up and coaxing brainless whimpers out of you, not bothering to hold back for your sake– and thank the gods for that. 

A meek keening sound arose from your throat as you gasped Sebastian’s name, and the brunet responded with a rough growl, stroking your thighs tenderly before abandoning one of them to place his hand on the lower part of your stomach. He pressed down with his fingers splayed against your skin, thrusting into you deeper so you could really feel every long, delectable inch of him within you, and the added pressure made your head spin and your walls clamp down on him. 

“Oh, fuck–” you moaned wantonly, arching your spine as much as you were able in a bid to feel as much as possible. Sebastian responded by moving his grip on your thigh to your waist, fucking into you harder until all you were capable of doing was whining for more with your eyes unfocused. Rational thought was gone– you were losing your mind with the way Sebastian was pounding into you now, that fire spreading through you– but you had quickly stopped being afraid of the feeling. The hotter you got, the more Sebastian’s perfect aim drove you higher until you were arching and pleading, noisy and half-coherent as overwhelmed tears filled your eyes. 

When you finally caught hold of words beyond brainless, wavering cries, you threw your head back with a gasping whine to loudly beg, “Sebastian, please, please–” 

“F-Fuck,” he stuttered out, moaning desperately into the empty air before he rasped, “You like it that much, darling? Want more?” 

“Yes!” You clawed mindlessly at the hand he had clamped against your waist, urging him to use the damn thing in the way you had dreamt of every night since returning to school. Ever the fast learner, Sebastian obliged you mercifully and let go of your waist, leaving you to hook your legs around his hips as he brought his hands to your throat to pull you onto his cock harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and muddling your brain further. 

“You look so perfect with my hands around your neck, darling.” Sebastian growled out in-between bestial grunts. “So pretty, so eager. Is it good?” 

He wasn’t choking the life out of you by any means, but the pressure he applied on either side of your neck added a sort of high that left your tongue useless in your mouth. You could hardly formulate words, much less a full sentence, but you still managed to stammer out a raspy, “Y-Yes, fuck–”

You were fairly certain you were drooling all over yourself, but you couldn’t find the willpower to care. There were too many sensations to keep track of, and through the haze of it all, your climax came into sight. Your hand came to grasp at one of the ones Sebastian had secured around your throat while the other fisted in the sheets, squeezing as hard as you could as you rutted back against his hips the best you could. It wasn’t doing much as far as you were concerned, but Sebastian evidently appreciated your attempt as he groaned roughly, letting his head hang between his shoulders as he began pumping his hips faster. 

“Shit– I’m close, I’m so close–”

Beyond your moans of encouragement, there wasn’t much else you could say. Sebastian took your motivating sounds in stride though, keeping one hand clamped around your neck securely as the other flew down to your clit, instantaneously rubbing urgent little circles around the nub in a bid to take you with him over the edge. Your voice was already raspy but so much louder and needier than Sebastian’s short moans of your name, and his half-baked praises and pleas intermingled with the distant banging of the headboard against the stone wall. Even through all that– through the spiking volume of your pleasure and the blinding need devouring you both– all Sebastian saw was you, and all you saw was ecstasy. 

When you finally came you wailed, long and loud as your hands clung to the sheets beneath you and Sebastian’s thick wrist alike, the latter of which knew better than to stop now. Your muscles tensed dangerously tight, your toes curling hard and your nails scraping fresh tracks down Sebastian’s forearm hard enough to leave welts, and your boyfriend was already holding on by a thread by the time your cunt clamped down tight around him. It was almost too hard to move, but there was just enough give that your climax peaked impossibly further and Sebastian fell right after you, crying your name over and over with the rough, faltering tempo of his hips. 

The two of you were hardly aware of anything as you both slowed down and came off of that high, but you eventually blinked the fog from your mind and came to realize Sebastian had long since abandoned his hold on your throat in favor of laying across your prone form, lightly peppering kisses against your collarbone as he sucked down breaths to catch his breath. The stinging twitch of uncoiling muscles and the swelling bites and scratches only served to bring you both back to reality in slow, leisurely time with one another, and at the end of it all it was Sebastian who found his voice first, murmuring yet another snide comment into the crook of your shoulder. 

“Should I start wearing gloves now?” 

Still breathless and spent from the last hour– hell, the entirety of the last week– your delirious laughter was uncontrollable as you realized and quickly accepted that the truth was now out there, and your boyfriend was more than ready to take full advantage of that. “I don’t think gloves will help, honestly.” 

The remainder of the school year would end up being a testament to just how true that claim actually was, you guessed. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, would most certainly enjoy every second of it. 

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Gamer 🎮

Mapi León x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

After a long day of training, Mapi prefers playing video games over cuddling with you.

After an intense training session, you expected Mapi to come home, take a quick shower, and curl up next to you on the couch. That was your routine—post-training cuddles. But today? Today was different.

The moment Mapi stepped through the door, her eyes weren’t on you. They were on the sleek console sitting on the TV stand.

You raised an eyebrow as she tossed her duffle bag aside and plopped onto the couch, grabbing the controller without even a glance your way. “Hey,” you called softly, hoping to pull her attention back to you. “Rough training session?”

“Hmm?” she hummed, eyes already glued to the screen. “Yeah, kinda. Just need to unwind, cariño.”

You smiled at the term of endearment, but you couldn't help the slight pang in your chest. Unwinding usually meant with you, not battling through virtual enemies.

You sat down beside her, nudging her shoulder. “I thought we could hang out tonight? Maybe watch a movie?”

“I’ll join you in a bit,” Mapi replied, her fingers flying over the buttons. “Just let me finish this level.”

You sighed, leaning back and watching as her attention stayed firmly on the game. “That’s what you said last time,” you muttered under your breath, earning a chuckle from her.

Time ticked by, and you tried to occupy yourself—scrolling through your phone, watching a show. But the longer it went on, the more the urge to tease her grew.

Leaning over, you rested your head on her shoulder, your voice low and sweet. “You know, I’m right here, right?”

Mapi barely glanced at you. “Mm-hmm.”

“Remember me? Your girlfriend?”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, distracted.

This was war.

You reached over and playfully poked her in the ribs, earning a startled gasp from her. Her fingers fumbled on the controller, causing her character to falter. “Hey! What was that for?” she asked, her eyes finally meeting yours.

“For ignoring me,” you said with a grin, leaning in closer. “You know, I’m starting to feel like second place to that game.”

Mapi groaned, dropping the controller into her lap. “I’m not ignoring you,” she argued, though there was a smile tugging at her lips. “I just... I needed to decompress.”

“I get that,” you admitted, “but I miss you.”

That did the trick. Mapi’s face softened, and she leaned over, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Okay, okay, I’m done. Promise.”

“Promise?”

She nodded, turning off the game and tossing the controller aside. “Promise.” She slid closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Besides, I think I prefer spending time with you more than my game.”

“Is that right?” you teased, resting your head on her chest.

Mapi smirked. “Well, the game doesn’t cuddle me back.”

You laughed, feeling her warmth as she held you close, the two of you falling back into the rhythm that felt right. “Good choice,” you whispered, content with the shift of attention back to you.

[aritsukemo]

There goes my baaaabyyyy | Multiple Characters

Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, and Sae Itoshi

Summary: After seeing an abundance of tiktoks about the Usher trend, you decide to try it out on your unsuspecting boyfriend after a while of not seeing him

Warnings: This is the author's attempt at being funny so crack ahead. I apologize in advance.

A/N: Idk what came over me today, but I decided to waste my time writing this anyways after getting inspired by this amazing slideshow on tiktok talking about how each Haikyuu character would react to you doing the Usher trend. This is also my first time writing for Sae ( and I also know virtually nothing about him as I've only seen season 1 of Blue Lock ) so I'm sorry if he's ooc. I just realllyyy wanted to add him as I've been thirsting over edits of him ( and Reo ) for the past day or so.

A sigh of relief escapes through the chapped lips of the soon-to-be world cup competitor Isagi Yoichi. After hard fought battles during the preliminaries and all the stress and trials that come with it, it was finally the time for Isagi to return to his safe haven. He was hesitant for a time as he was still riding the adrenaline rush and wanted to stay back and train with some of the others, but since Bachira was returning to Japan to visit his mom and celebrate with her, it reminded him that he also had someone to return home to; you.

And so, after the longest thirteen hour flight of his life, he was now walking, suitcase in hand, alongside his best friend as the two of them exited the baggage claim and was nearing the lounge where you were allegedly waiting for him.

It had been so long since he's seen you, touched you—held you.. He finds himself wondering, how much has changed? Has your laugh changed at all? Have you switched up your sense of style? Maybe your hair? Do you still taste like the honeyed, buttered pancakes you used to make him every morning? Is your smile still so wide that it creases your cheeks and makes them pudge out more? Do your eyes still gaze at him as if he was made out of gold like they used to?

As he dwells on his thoughts, the yearning for you seeps in more and more like oil filling up a tank. It's heavy and it's only when he's just about to succumb to the weight of it all that he realizes just how much he's truly missed you.

And it seems that he wasn't alone in this feeling.

As he stepped into the lounge, he's met with his first and only warning. A warning that came in the familiar tune of the audio of a certain tiktok you had sent him a week prior before you came sliding his way on your knees. Your voice raised to match the exact pitch of the audio as you sung the infamous lyrics until you came to an abrupt halt when you collided with his stomach, nearly knocking him over with the force you hit him with.

And the only thing he could fathom to do was to stare like a deer in headlights and say, "Uh...what in the world?!"

Bachira couldn't possibly hope to contain his laughter any longer after that.

After seconds of Bachira's wheezing and airless chuckles, it was only when he was beginning to grip his stomach from the pain of his amusement that Isagi finally realized what just happened. And when he did, his entire face flushed a cherry red.

"What- Why are you doing this right now of all time?" He asked, semi-shouting as he grabbed the upper part of your arms—which were wrapped around his waist.

"I missed you, baby~!" You said in a sing-songy voice. And, as you looked up at him with your eyes shining with the familiar gleam he knew just as that same trophy-awarding smile stretched across your face, he found himself faltering for a moment. His shoulders slumping as he began mumbling shyly..

"I- I.. I missed you too.. But please, get up! People are starting to give us weird looks.."

Three months. That's how long it's been since you've last seen him.

Well, that's technically not true. If you wanted to be less dramatic, you could admit that you saw your boyfriend just last week on tv doing his signature dribbling moves and if you wanted to really be frank, you had seen his gorgeous face up close just the other day when he facetimed you and informed you that he'll be home that following afternoon. You could also make it sound much less extreme by simply confessing that you had regularly spoke to Bachira throughout these three months via text and that he'd facetime you at least one a week.

But you didn't want to count any of that.

I mean, sure you got to see him, but you didn't really get to see him. You weren't able to kiss his cheek whenever they perked up and flushed pink. You couldn't run your fingers through his layered hair and watch the satisfying transition of his brown strands turn yellow between your fingertips. You weren't able to hold his chin and watch in awe and fondness as he laughed toothily like a baby kitten..

You haven't seen him, not in all his glory which, to you, was like not seeing him at all. That said, three months of that torture was unbearable.

But all of that pain was forgotten in a matter of seconds at the odd sound of drums playing in the distance.

You didn't have any time to react to—or rather, process—what was happening or prepare yourself before Bachira got a running start towards you and soon dropped to his knees, sliding the rest of the way up to you with the biggest smile on his face—all while Usher's voice boomed behind him from his back pocket.

You had no choice but to accept fate and allow the love of your life to crash into you and completely knock you to the ground.

As the biting cold of the airport's tiles crept up your skin and all the air was just about knocked from your lungs from unexpectedly hitting the flat surface, Bachira stared down at you from above, cheeks dusted pink which made him look like an excited little kid.

"Hey, babe! It's been so long!" He chirped before coming down to press all his weight onto you as he caged your torso with his arms, his face immediately nearing yours to press a big, wet kiss to your cheek.

If it had been any other situation that he had done this in, you'd probably be annoyed from the embarrassment of having basically half the airport staring at the two of you like you were a bunch of buffoons or, at the very least, the fact that his team was laughing up a storm in the background...but having been as starved of him as you were, all you could do was laugh while relishing in the feeling of his warmth consuming every part of your body as he leaned down again to plant a feverish kiss to your lips.

Feet tapped against the small tile floors of the elevator, thumping against the marble in a rhythm that embodied the very dread of its owner.

After months of dreading this day, Sae had, once again, stepped foot in Japan; a notion he refused to even utter aloud from just how much he despised it.

For a man with such negative opinions about his homeland, his reasons for coming back were quite frivolous in comparison. Though if asked, he lie and say that his passport expired—which wasn't wrong—but deep down he knew the real reason for his return; his partner who he was too prideful to call the love of his life.

It had took some time, and for a while, Sae was forced to come back here every other year or so in secret to visit them per their request, but at last, they had decided that so much time waiting for his semi-yearly visits were too much for their poor heart and that they were ready to take the next step and leave with him to Spain.

Sae had pushed the thought to the very back of his mind, but he was more than glad—overjoyed, even—when you told him of your decision over the phone as he himself was starting to grow restless without you by his side at times.

He had already went through the process of renewing his passport so all that was left was to pick you up and drive to the airport—well, get driven to the airport—where he could finally leave this horrendous country, this time with you snuggled up by his side.

But he should've known that you wouldn't have let things be so simple.

As the doors to the elevator opened and allowed him to, at last, step foot into your lavish home, the symphony of his demise began to rang throughout it and bounce of the walls. Sae paused, face contorting into one of visible perplexment before his eyes widened at the sight of you sliding on your knees towards him, mouth opened as you sang to the beat of the music blasting throughout your home.

Your performance was short, glorious, and came to an end when your face was buried into the smooth fabric of your boyfriend's clothing and you smoothly wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's waist.

And it was only a full minute after such an amazing performance that it finally dawned on him what you were doing. And to that, he simply sighs disappointedly.

"I've changed my mind. You're not going anywhere with me," He said, and despite the blunt tone he douses his words in, it does little to your dazzling smile as you knew full well his words held little weight to them. You find yourself playing into your own bullshit anyways, though, as you begun to whine out in a high pitch you just knew he couldn't stand.

"Aww, but why? All I did was greet my pookie--" "Finish that sentence and I will actually leave you in Japan for another ten years."

You promptly shut your mouth after that, much to Sae's relief.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[17020]

Gen Narumi leaned against the wall of the Ariake Maritime base training grounds, the sun beautifully illuminating his skin. His gaze flickered to his wrist to check the time, then to the door in front of him.

As if on queue, you slid the door open, surprised at the sight in front of you. There stood your first ever friend in the division, now your captain, with his arm behind his back.

“Captain, you wanted to see me?”

“Drop the formalities, Yn. We’re alone” he stated, his free hand motioning for you to come closer. When you stood a few feet in front of him, he brashly revealed what hid behind him, shoving a yellow bouquet towards your chest.

“Gen? What’s this about?”

He sighed, “It’s the 21st.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, your mouth agape. He shoved the bouquet again, hoping you would take the hint. As you got ahold of it, you noticed the various flowers inside. Marigolds, sunflowers, tulips, and roses.

“Gen, you…”

“You yapped so much about Floricienta, I didn’t think you’d forget today was the 21st. Take your flowers, your complaining about not having anyone to get you some made me sick.”

You smiled as you held the flowers close to you, with Narumi’s face flushing from embarrassment in return. As much as he tried to hide it, he truly did care for you, even if he concealed his feelings with disinterest.

Carefully, you stepped closer to close the gap between the two of you, welcoming him to your warm embrace. He placed his head in the crook of your neck as he hesitantly held you in his arms, slowly tightening his grip.

“Thank you, Gen” you whispered, “it means a lot to me, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah” he replied, his lips softly grazing the sweet spot on your neck. “Just makin’ sure ya don’t distract me from my work anymore.”

taglist, i hereby send you my virtual flores amarillas! @stunies @kaiser1ns @nyxypoo @littleplantfreak @karasuglazer @maruflix @heartkaji @ryescapades @iamjellyfish

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Not Like You - Lando Norris

<word count - 1603>

You had just come downstairs from your final virtual meeting of the day to find Lando on the couch. All you could see of him was his head poking out of the top of the mountain of pillows and blankets he was buried under. 

"I am finally done for the day," you announced, sitting beside him and letting yourself relax for the first time today. "What do you want for dinner?" you asked, your stomach gurgling at the thought of food. 

"You can have whatever, I'm not hungry," he mumbled, turning his face away from you. That was odd, you thought. Lando may have been a bit fussy when it came to what he ate, but he loved his food and he had never turned down a meal in all the time you had known him. 

"What did you have for lunch?" you asked, resting a supportive hand on his knee as he avoided looking at you. "Can't remember," he replied, and that basically meant 'I didn't have anything'. 

In his mind, Lando was willing you to go and make yourself dinner just so he could have a bit of extra time alone. He had been really stressed for the past couple of days, and he had made a valiant effort to make sure you didn't see it. 

He knew you had your own issues to deal with, and he didn't want you to worry yourself with his problems as well. "What have you been up to today?" you asked, trying to get him to look at you by training your eyes on his face.

"Nothing much, just watching some TV," he shortly answered. Normally, Lando was talkative and would be eager to hear about what you had been up to, so that was another red flag. You didn't want to push because, if he wanted to talk about it, he would have already brought it up.

It didn't stop you from worrying any less. If anything, his lack of talking made you more concerned. You sighed, knowing you just had to ask what was wrong. It was the only way you would get through to him. 

"Hey, you OK?" you asked, scooting closer to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired," he huffed, pulling himself into an even tighter ball.

"You sure? You just seem a bit off, that's all," you told him wrapping an arm around his shoulders and trying to pull him into your embrace. "I'm fine, just stressed," he told you, shrugging your arm away and moving towards the other end of the couch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked, your eyebrows knitted together in concern. You knew when he wanted to be left alone, and now was one of those times, but something in you wouldn't let you. 

You wanted to be able to fix all of his problems, make all of his worries go away, and make the world perfect with sunshine and rainbows for him. All of that would be impossible if he didn't let you in. 

"I'm fine," he dismissed, looking at you for a split second before turning away again. For that short moment, you saw something was unsettled in his eyes. That was the thing with Lando - there was no chance he could hide his emotions. His eyes gave himself away so easily. 

"Are you sure? You-" you started.

"I said I'm fine, Y/N," he snapped, and his side profile looked annoyed as you looked at him. Now was the time you thought it would be best to leave him alone. "OK, sorry," you quietly murmured, getting off the couch and going back upstairs. 

You would leave him to cool off for a bit, and give yourself some time to calm down. Lando had never snapped at you before, so it shocked you.  Now you were certain something was up. 

You sat on the bed and thought about what you could do. You didn't want to leave it until he came to bed, because the both of you would get in your heads over the hours and blow the situation out of proportion. 

Meanwhile, Lando felt awful. You were just trying to help, and he yelled at you and he could tell he scared you. The sound of your voice apologising for something you never needed to apologise for made his heart shatter and felt worse than he had before you had asked if he was alright. 

He wasn't feeling like himself, and that was now painfully obvious. It was as if the happy part of him had been replaced with all of the stressful things that were going on in his life right now. But, he scolded himself for taking it out on you.

You were only trying to help, and he knew that. He wanted to go and talk to you, but he couldn't trust himself to not lash out at you. He had let his emotions get the better of him, and he needed to take some time to cool down. 

After around two hours, you had finished scribing your letter to Lando. If he didn't feel like talking to you, then maybe he could read what you had to say. Padding downstairs, Lando was still sat in the exact same spot on the couch. 

You stood in front of him, then placed the folded piece of paper down on the coffee table. He watched your every move until he couldn't see you anymore as you ascended the stairs once more. 

He cursed himself for not saying anything, for not taking you into his arms and apologising for taking his frustration out on you. But, he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't snap at you again, so maybe it was for the better. 

Leaning forward, he snatched the paper off the coffee table and unfolded it. 'Hey Lando, sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to press. If you don't want to talk about it, I get it. But, if you want to, I'm here for you - no matter what. I love you, Y/N x'.

Even though it wasn't your intention, you had made him feel slightly worse about himself. You were being so nice to him and you only wanted the best for him, but he had pushed you away and rejected you. He was so unbelievably lucky to have you, and he loved you more than anything else in the world. 

His emotions had barraged him all at once, and all he could do was let the tears fall down onto his cheeks. As you walked by to get a glass of water from the kitchen, you heard his muffled sobs through the door.

Despite your promise to yourself to give him time, your heart ached for him. He didn't have to tell you what was wrong, you just wanted to be with him. You couldn't stop your legs as they carried you into the living room and around the back of the couch.

From behind, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and buried your face in his hair, but you didn't say anything. You simply stood there as he leant back into your touch. "I'm sorry," he managed to choke out. "It's OK," you whispered back, trying to supress your own tears. 

"No, it's not. I shouldn't speak to you like that, whether I'm upset or not," he said, his hands latching onto your forearms and gripping for dear life. "Lando, it's OK. You don't have to explain yourself if you don't want to," 

"C'mere," was all he said in response and you walked around the couch and sat down next to you. "I've just been really stressed lately and I've not been feeling like... me, if that makes any sense," he explained, pulling you into him.

Keeping your mouth shut, you nodded to signal for him to continue. "I've just not been happy recently, and I don't know why," he mumbled, looking down at his lap as his fingers aggressively circled your arm. "You don't need to be happy all the time, it's OK not to be," you told him as he looked at you with glassy eyes.

"But I shouldn't have snapped at you like that,"

"Lando, baby, I promise it's alright. It's alright to have feelings that aren't 100% positive all the time, and it's fine to want to be alone sometimes. I get it, it's hard to talk about how we feel, but I'm always here if you need me," you said, caressing his cheek as you spoke. 

"I know you are, I know. But I want to feel like me again," he backtracked as a few more tears fell onto his rosy cheeks. "Give it some time, and I'm always here if you want to talk about anything.  In the meantime, what do you say we order in some spring rolls?" you said, and a small smile danced on his lips. 

Even if it was only a small smile, it was still a smile nonetheless. "I like that idea," he grinned, and he already felt better for talking to you. You could put a smile on his face whenever, but now he needed it the most. 

"I love you," he said affectionately, just as you picked up the phone to dial the Chinese place. 

"I love you too," you responded, leaning into his touch as his hand snuck up the side of your shirt and mindlessly traced shaped on the skin of your waist. 

Lando may not have instantly felt on top of the world again, but he was certainly making good headway on getting there, and he could feel those small fragments of his usual, happy self, falling back into place.

A/N - This is 'Not Like Me', but the other way around. Hope you enjoyed, and if you need to talk, I'm always here <3

|masterlist|

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. self ship coded. wc 1.1k. cw: reader is referred to as "little snow angel" and is wearing high heeled boots. divider thanks to @/cafekitsune!

You are sixteen years old the first time Gojo uses your warmth for his own comfort.

He presses his cold fingertips against your sun warmed cheek on an early spring day and you squeak, furrowing your brows and pouting while the two of you walk down an empty Tokyo street. It’s midday and you were paired up for a mission that was completed as quickly as it started, now walking side by side and enjoying a light lunch of whatever you wanted to grab from the convenience store while returning to the train station.

“Why did you do that?” You lament, chewing the mouthful of onigiri you managed to bite off before he cruelly interrupted you with the icicles he calls fingers. You shiver exaggeratedly and he sticks his tongue out and laughs, shrugging. 

“Dunno. You looked like the warmest thing around.”

The compliment makes your cheeks further warm and he feels it. He’s seventeen and awkward, as inexperienced in matters of the heart as you are but he understands that despite his tendency to touch and need for physical affection, he wouldn’t be able to do this with anybody else. Your patience with his antics is a very small part of why he finds himself so drawn to you and it’s only a tiny piece of the puzzle of his feelings.

Years later, and after many additional pieces have been added to said puzzle of his feelings, he’s still seeking out your warmth. 

Namely today when the air is so cold each of your puffs of breath leave you with dramatic wisps, curling through the air like hot tea you wish were in your hand warming your bones. Instead your hands are buried deep in your pockets, your legs carrying you as quickly as they can into the warmth of the apartment you moved into around a year ago - Satoru’s. Well, yours too, technically, considering you receive mail addressed to both of you but you still call it his apartment. Maybe someday you’ll get used to the fact that you two share a life together and not just pieces of a puzzle still in progress.

You are 26 years old, a virtual lifetime removed from the girl you were a decade ago, a dedicated teacher at the school you attended through your teenage years. In fact, you’re headed home from there now, the chunky stacked heel of your winter boots clacking against the cold sidewalk below them with every step you take toward the building your high rise is situated in. It’s so close yet so far away and you whine quietly, hoping he remembered to turn on the kotatsu like you asked.

Out of the pair of you, you’ve always been the hot one.

In the early days of your relationship, you realized that you and Satoru both worked better when each of you maintained defined roles. You are the serious one (sometimes), he is the joker (always). He’s the cool light of the winter moon, you’re the warm first day of spring sun. He’s the protector, you’re the protected despite your protests against this status and his insistence upon its importance. These roles have evolved over time as you’ve come into your own and he has done the same, your relationship as fluid as each of you are, but there is one thing that is always true. You run warm and he runs ice cold.

Already beneath the kotatsu upstairs, he’s in the apartment impatiently awaiting your arrival, shoving his hands and feet beneath the most ingenious invention mankind has ever dreamed up. It isn’t as hot as it should be, he forgot to turn it on when you asked and managed to remember about ten minutes ago, but it’s warming up enough that he can get the slightest bit of relief. 

Off on a mission without you, he spent the whole day freezing inside of his oversized black jacket. Even three layers beneath it couldn’t keep the chill from seeping through and luckily he made it home hours before you, the danger eradicated as quickly as he could manage. Since returning home he has taken a shower with water so hot it bordered on scalding, thrown his softest and warmest sweater over his head, and moped around knowing he is missing out on the thing that keeps him the coziest.

“I’m home!”

His ears perk up as soon as he hears your voice, withdrawing himself from beneath the warmth of the kotatsu. 

“Oh thank god!” 

Shouting his response and scrambling to stand up, he makes it there finally and jogs across the apartment in socked feet. You grin seeing him, grateful he made it home in one piece even if it was hours before you, and you pull your boots off with an unenthusiastic grunt. He rushes to scoop you up and hold your body against his. He’s shocked when he feels how cold you are and he coos sadly, pressing his warm fingers against your cold face.

“Poor thing,” he mutters and you giggle with a shake of your head. Gojo helps you out of your coat and you sigh contentedly, letting him work each of the sleeves off of you and then go to work unraveling the scarf tied around your neck and throat. “If you’re cold it must be very cold.”

Another nod. You struggle to speak, your smile frozen on your face, because you’ve realized yet again that the roles in your relationship have evolved. He’s the warmth you’ve come home to, hands and arms and chest thawing out the frost that has developed over you throughout the day. 

“I’m just glad to be home.”

Patting your face gently, warm fingers replacing the cold ones of that decade old memory, you lean into his touch and he pinches the round of your cheek between his index and forefinger as he often does. You giggle and grin and without any additional thought, dive face first into his chest and the smell of your laundry detergent and the beating heart beneath it all. Whatever winter chill remains is slowly melting away with each breath you take and each of his you listen to. 

“Come on.”  Satoru wraps you up and holds you against him, letting you walk on top of his feet back to the main living area. This is also something the two of you do often because he cannot physically handle being away from you long enough for you to guide yourself. “Let’s go warm you up, my little snow angel.”

Rolling your eyes at the brand new nickname he’s come up with (something else that is a daily occurrence you’ve learned to love over the last ten years), you smile to show him the gesture is nothing short of joking. He lets his hands fall around the waistband of your pants and slips one of them beneath your shirt, a yelp leaving you when the cold appendages wrap around your hip.

“Satoru!” You squeak and he chuckles, humming a little song to himself as he does every time he hears you say his name in that tone of voice. “What did you do that for?”

“I wanted to.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead with exaggerated smacks of his lips against your still cool skin.

You’ve heard it a million times - to be loved is to be changed - and you never considered that a change as small as hot and cold would fill your heart as full as it is right now. Even the cold fingers resting beneath your blouse can be forgiven when he leans down to envelop your lips in a kiss, chasing the winter blues so far away they’re all but long gone.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Seven Minutes

Y/N’s crush on her boss is obvious to everyone, including his co-stars, leading the two into some sticky situations.

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

2.4k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, nudity, flirting, praise

An: Thank you so much for the requests!! I really love the Assistant!Au and would love to continue it, specifically with Bam! I would love to see how he would mess with and push around our lovely assistant Y/N XD Anyways, keep sending those requests and let me know what you think!

Clutching your little brown clipboard, you were nearly shaking as you gazed up at the piece of paper sloppily scotch taped to the white trailer door. One would’ve thought that the first name on the billing would be treated with a little more prestige. You had no idea how you got the job, really. Horribly under qualified, virtually zero experience- a real combination for success. I mean, before today, you’d never stepped foot on a movie set, and here you were, Y/N: assistant to the stars. More than that, according to what Paramount told you, you would be an assistant to America’s favorite hot lunatic: Johnny Knoxville. You hadn’t seen a thing he was in, but from what you gathered, teenagers thought of him as the modern PT Barnum, while the churchgoing growd called him the devil incarnate, and you were going to be working under him. Timidly reaching out, you knocked a few times on the trailer to no answer. “Hey, uh- Johnny! Jeff needs you on set soon!” After maybe thirty seconds of waiting and no answer, you decided to try the handle, assuming he was too busy doing whatever movie stars do and just couldn’t hear you.

Boy, did you get an eyeful. There, standing in that silent trailer with his clothes draped over a chair, was the man himself, naked as a jaybird and without a care in the world that you saw him. He was all tanned muscle, Hollywood man meat. You, on the other hand, felt heat rush to your cheeks as your eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. Stuttering out an apology, you turned away, “Oh! Oh my god, I am-“ Completely unphased, Johnny continued getting dressed, talking to you like he was talking about something as simple as taking out the trash. “Hold on a sec. Just gotta get some clothes on…” Does this happen often with movie stars, or only to him? It had to, you thought, based on how relaxed he was to be naked in front of a total stranger. Is he naked in front of strangers often? All you could do was face the wall of the trailer as your mind went wild, the heat flooding in from outside through the still open door doing nothing to aid the sweat you were already breaking. Your train of thought was brought to a screeching halt when you heard the metallic jingling of Johnny doing up his belt behind you, bringing to mind a flood of thoughts that you weren't exactly proud of. Still, you couldn’t help the urge to sneak another look at his half clothed body but you quickly turned back.

As sneaky as you thought you were being, Johnny noticed your little glance and, more than that, he didn’t seem to mind. Cracking a smirk at the events that were unfolding in front of him, he couldn’t help but want to tease this sweet little assistant of his a bit more. You didn’t even know he was dressed until you felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned around, nearly nose to nose with him while Johnny was still buttoning up his shirt with one hand, sporting that knowing, crooked smile. God, you practically fainted when he spoke, his voice barely above a murmur, “You needed somethin’?” Well yes, there was something you needed, but you weren't going to say that sort of thing out loud, much less to your boss on your first day. Too flustered to articulate yourself, you gestured for him to take a couple steps back, which he complied with, before you attempted to compose yourself, “U- uh…Jeff, he- uh, he asked me to get you for that- that Toro Totter stunt today…”

Johnny loved that you remembered his coffee order, even though that was a part of your job. Not that it was hard to remember- black coffee with two sugars. Every morning when you met up with him on set, you’d tell him good morning when you handed him the steaming hot styrofoam cup, and Johnny would take it from you with a smile that was still tired from partying the night before. He’d take a long sip and get this charmed look on his face and make some joke about how he couldn't believe that you remembered his order. As you worked with him longer and you started growing closer, he would tack on an appreciative, “Atta’ girl!” and reach out to rub your back or ruffle your hair. All the guys on set would whisper and joke about the two of you, especially Bam, who no matter how many times it was explained to him, still couldn’t get why Knoxville hadn’t ‘tapped that’. You didn’t care to admit how much you liked when Johnny treated you like that- all affectionately. Maybe you were nervous about working with a big movie star and really needed some approval to keep you going. On the other hand, you had been busting your ass for the past month making sure everything on set went as smoothly as possible, so it could also be that you felt like you needed the recognition. But most likely, you just liked hearing those words come from Johnny’s mouth.

So that’s why you went up to see him in his motel room. Well, that and he was half an hour late and Jeff wanted you to find out why the hell he hadn’t shown up on set. Carrying the well creased list of stunts for the day in your pocket, you walked through the dingy hallways of the cheap place the cast was set up at, carefully stepping over where Steve-O was passed out, drooling face down on the carpet. After finding Johnny’s door, you knocked on the cheap plywood and it swung open without resistance. Wondering what was with this guy and leaving doors open, you timidly called out into the room, “Uh, is everything alright, Joh-?“ Well, that explains why he hadn’t shown up- he wasn’t even out of bed. Shifting slightly at your noise, Johnny sat up with a groan, rubbing the back of his head as the sheets that covered his torso slid down to pool at his hips. “M’fine…god, just- just c'mere.” As he waved you over, patting the side of the bed for you to sit down, you couldn’t help but stare at him now that you were close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his body, and especially since you had more time to look him over. The cheap, frameless bed creaked under you as you sat down next to him on top of the sheets, fiddling with your hands. Johnny, who saw the paper sticking out from the front pocket of your jeans, snaked an arm past your hips nonchalantly to grab it, unfolding it with his muscular arm still around you.

He looked over the list, blinking groggily and quietly commenting about some stunts they should shuffle around to make the day run smoother or how he would change some setups. There was no way in hell you would be able to pay attention to anything that was coming out of his mouth. God, you were awful. It was like the second you got within five feet of him, your brain started slipping out of your ears. Still dazed, you were shaken out of your trance when Johnny wordlessly grabbed the coffee from your hands, bringing it to his lips and taking a drink. The corners of his eyes crinkled up when he swallowed deeply, his voice rough as he slid his arm up to squeeze your shoulder affectionately with a warm smile, “That’s my girl.”

He played you like a fiddle, goddamn it, and you were helpless to do anything about it. He just really got a kick out of messing with you, batting you around like the way a cat plays with its food before it eats it. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the cast who, although you had mostly ignored their comments and jeering, found your nervous reactions even more entertaining than Johnny did. They’d go out of their way to get you and him into situations where you would be forced to be in close proximity, but because of how often they pulled these pranks and your inexperience working on set, you couldn’t always tell the difference between when you were really needed for something or when they were trying to mess with you, so you naively complied with their requests every time. That’s how you got into situations like this.

“Hey, Y/N!” Steve called to you in passing on set one day, “Can’y grab a couple’a those cowboy hats from wardrobe?” Usually you only tended to what Johnny asked you to do, but since it was a pretty innocuous request, and you had nothing to do, you didn’t give it a second thought as you made your way to the costume department. It wasn't so much of a department as it was a small closet. In the past, the guys made jokes about getting you all dressed up in some skimpy outfit to sit in the background of a stunt on the basis that they really needed some sex appeal in the new movie, so you took a few peeks in there out of curiosity. This is all to say that you knew about it. What you didn’t know, however, was that at the same time Steve was sending you off, Chris was asking the same question to Johnny. See, this was a well coordinated attack, and if there was only one thing these bumbling idiots could coordinate together to do, it was fucking with people.

As soon as you hurriedly stumbled into the dark closet, you bumped face first into something warm which you quickly realized was a person, leaving you a little dazed before the door loudly slammed shut behind you, making you jump a little. The only noise you heard was snickering, courtesy of Bam, who had hidden barely out of sight when you walked in and jammed a chair under the handle of the door. There was only one person you would end up in there with, “Oh, come on, guys!” The familiar southern drawl in his voice made your stomach jump as you recognized Johnny who, while he was trying not to make his annoyance apparent, leaned around you to knock on the door as he yelled to the guys on the other side, “I gotta be on set in five- Jeff’s gonna kill me!” Still, nothing but snickers. You began to realize exactly how close your body was to his- Johnny didn’t even seem to notice nor care that your face was nearly buried in his chest, but you were so freaked out that you could bring your mouth to move or make any noise. It wasn’t until he groaned, leaning back to sit on a costume trunk in front of you that you took a breath.

“Well, we might be here a while…” Johnny mused, and while you couldn’t see it, you definitely heard the smile in his voice as he continued, “Y’know this kinda reminds me a lot of that game- seven minutes in heaven?” Of course you knew what he was talking about, and you would be an idiot to pass this kind of thing up. Unfortunately, under these conditions, you kind of became one. “I, uh- I’ve never played that- that game before…” Well, it wasn't a lie- you really hadn’t, but you knew what he meant. Your response was a half hearted stammer, your heart pounding so hard that you half expected it to thrum out of your chest, cartoon style, and you were sure he could feel it. You were aware he was getting a kick out of your nervousness, but you weren't exactly sure how to feel about that. Johnny’s voice slipped into that low, teasing register as he met your eyes, leaning towards you. “I could always teach you.” You practically let out a squeak at his suggestion. Oh god, it’s happening. He wanted to kiss you, didn’t he? Your brain struggled to form words, but luckily Johnny broke the tension before you dropped dead from the little game he was playing with you. Flashing a playful smile, he chuckled reassuringly, “Ah, I’m just messin’ with ya.”

There was something warm, something comforting and infectious that followed Johnny around wherever he went- a product of his charisma, surely, that just put everyone at ease. Well, everyone except you, but even now that was starting to change. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’ve gotta little crush on me, Y/N.” You thanked the darkness for giving you an excuse not to look him in the eyes, because otherwise he’d find it cute and probably do that thing they do in romance movies- where the guy tilts the girl’s chin up a little, and if he did that then you would be as good as a puddle on the ground. “O-oh, really?” Part of you was tempted to ask if it was that obvious, but you were unfortunately not that bold. “Mmhm. And lucky for me too, cause I was itchin’ to get an opportunity to ask you about gettin’ drinks sometime! Guess that makes my job a little easier, right?” Trying to be slick, Johnny put his arm on the door behind you and leaned, assuming it was still locked. However, against all assumptions, the door of the closet flew open, and as you were still startled from how he just so nonchalantly asked you out, your stiff body tumbled backward, landing flat on your behind. While you were talking, Bam apparently got bored when the ‘action’ hadn’t started, so he got up and left, taking the chair with him. Panicking and confused, the first thing Johnny did was lean down, giving you his hand, “Oh shit, Y/N! You alright?” In any other situation, the genuine concern in his voice and the feeling of his large, warm hand wrapping around yours protectively would be enough to get you weak at the knees, but your mind was elsewhere. Hell, you didn’t even care about how sore you felt as you stumbled to stand, tripping over your own words, “I’m fine, yeah! A, uh- a date! Drinks- that would be great!”

[iamzer0]

ƝЄƔЄƦ ƛԼƠƝЄ

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝙷𝚡𝙷 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟼

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚊, 𝙶𝚘𝚗, 𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚔𝚊, 𝙿𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚎, 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚉𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝙸𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒, 𝙱𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚢(𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎)

(Hey guys sorry I haven’t been active it has been a ROUGH few days, to cut a long story short I’m back in therapy. You know what that means that means MORE UPDATES 💪 I’m doing better so I’m gonna try and update more love y’all so much ❤︎)

Life with the Zoldyck family surprisingly wasn’t as bad as staying with the phantom troupe. The Zoldycks weren’t openly threatening you but they gave you a look that said ‘try me and I’ll kill you’ type look.

It was low key creepy staying with them because of how quiet most of them were.

Kalluto was quiet and reserved but he always lingered around you, following you around. He is good at sneaking around but you being on edge all the time allows you to feel his presence.

Kikyo was how do I put this, smothering. She was always asking you questions and having you try on outfits and dresses. (even if you are a boy she’s making you try on dresses) She treated you like a doll it was VERY annoying.

Milluki never left his room and therefore never bothered you, but you did see him occasionally he always gave you a look.

Illumi was well strangely suffocating, not in a physical way he never touched you but his overall presence just feels a bit suffocating.

Zeno was chill, you thought he was cool. He would share stories with you about his past mission and such he was actually really nice to you. He even at first helped you train your nen.

Silva was a character, he had a glare like a mountain lion but treated you with kindness. He was nice to you but was always standing over you, watching you as if you were about to make a move.

You knew your curse was slowly infecting the family. You even for a split second considered staying cause of the luxury of their mansion but you knew it would only lead to more pain for you in the future.

So for the millionth time you created a plan, you knew that they would be almost impossible to escape, from their butlers to the cameras to the big fuckin wall of theirs escaping is virtually impossible.

So you decided to smooth talk your way out of here.

You were currently eating dinner with kikyo, Zeno, Kalluto and Illumi. Kikyo was ranting about various things. You had been poking at your food while lost in thought.

“Dear? hello? [reader]?” Kikyo said trying to get your attention. You snapped out of it and were greeted with them all staring directly at you.

“Huh what?..” you said confused. “Are you feeling alright dear?” Kikyo said putting her hand on your head checking for a fever.

“Yea just… distracted…” you said trying to find the words.

Kikyo didn’t seem to take this answer well she bombarded you with various questions.

You looked at Illumi desperate for him to do something to get his mom to stop but he just stared back blankly, same Kalluto except he just looked sad.

You then started at Zeno with pleading eyes, he seemed to get your message “maybe they’re just tired from all the stuff they’ve been doing today” Zeno said interrupting Kikyo.

In reality you hadn’t done much of anything today, just try on clothes, walk with Kalluto, talk with Illumi about his upcoming mission and talk with Zeno. It was a mostly uneventful day.

But you simply nodded in agreement and left it at that.

Kikyo sent you off to bed, while walking away you turned to Zeno and mouthed a thank you. He simply nodded.

You laid in bed restless, you had been up thinking about what to say and who to say it to. You needed to leave before this infamous batch of assassins got to protective.

You decided you needed to talk with the head off the house, Silva. You got up and attempted to leave your bedroom, key word attempted.

You got stopped by the butlers immediately. You started struggling “lemme go! I have to uhhh bathroom!” You said frantically.

“Let them go” Illumi said from behind you the butlers paused. You could have sworn you say fear on their faces.

They dropped you, you told Illumi you needed to talk with Silva and it was very important. You said some lie bout the phantom troupe and he let you pass.

The hallway was long and dark the butlers eyed you like you were the scum of the earth. Finally you got to Silvas room.

You knocked 3 times announcing it was you. The door creaked open and you slowly shuffled in.

He was sat on a bed of pillows, his room was strange.

He invited you to sit, you explained your predicament with the whole nen curse thing. “And i can get the curse removed but only my friend knows how to, it’s kinda an unknown thing so like she’s the only one who can do it.” You said trying to sound as convincing as possible.

You had also maybe told Silva that the curse was slowly killing you. In your defense this might have been the only way he would let you leave.

You hadn’t lied, just bent the truth a little. “I see” was all Silva said he thought for a moment on what to say.

“I’ve noticed your nen there is something wrong with it, you may leave to have the curse removed.” He said calmly.

“Really?!” You said excepting for him to say no.

“Yes, but after the curse is removed you are to return to us at once.” He said with a hint of sadness.

“Thank u thank u!!” You said happily. “You may leave tomorrow morning” he said closing his eyes he seems to be thinking quite intensely.

You slept happy that night. You got up bright and early, you snuck out of your room tiptoeing as to not wake the others.

You ran into Kalluto on your way down the hallway. “We’re are you going?” He said with genuine curiosity. “Oh hi?.. I’m going through something pretty bad right now and I need to leave to get cured of something that is plaguing me” you said trying to sound professional.

He didn’t say anything, you just sorta left he watched you as you walked down the stairs slowly.

You passed by Zeno on your way out. You looked at him and he nodded as if to say goodbye.

“HOW COULD HE LET THEM LEAVE LIKE THAT!” Kikyo said running around the house frantically. “WHAT IF THEY GET HURT?! Oh it just isn’t fair!” She said crying.

She had gotten quite attached to you.

“What if they are lying” Illumi said to his father, “they were telling the truth there is a curse attached to them” Silva said in his usual calm voice.

“What if they don’t return” Illumi said despite his calm demeanor he was mad you left. “We can get them back easily” Silva said.

“Ah sweet freedom” you said enjoying the sunshine. You needed to find Bisky and find a way to get this stupid nen curse out of you.

You took several trains and a blimp back to were you had last met bisky. You walked towards the direction of her house.

“[reader]?!” You whipped you head around and found Bisky standing there. She ran up to you giving you a hug. “I thought they kidnapped you!” She said softly.

After a heart felt reunion, you and Bisky sat down at a coffee shop table together. She told you about something that might help you.

“I’m not positive it will work but it’s worth a try” she said drinking her coffee.

“There’s this game greed island have you heard of it?” Bisky said. “Oh yea I know what you are talking about! It’s that game you can go in right?” You said almost happy.

“Yes! Look at the auction this guy bought it and he’s looking for contestants to play it, whoever completes the game takes home 3 cards from the game with them!” Bisky said now exited.

“It’s all really interesting but as I was saying there’s this card angels breath it’s a healing card maybe if we go into the game and find angels breath it can heal you of your curse!” She said now incredibly excited.

“You think it will work?” You said hopeful.

“We have to try, first of all do you have a hunters license?” Bisky said “yea I earned it a little while ago it was rough but totally worth it” you said proud of your accomplishment (for those that haven’t read my other parts, reader meets the boys in heaven arena so that means you got your license by yourself)

“Good good because to even have a chance you need a license”

After eating y’all left towards the building Bisky said would get y’all in the game. Of course the guards didn’t take you seriously but a beating and showing of y’all licenses was enough to get y’all in.

The guys that bought all the copy’s of the games, interviewed y’all and eventually y’all were let in.

Everything was going smoothly a bit too smooth.

As y’all waited in the room guess who you spotted or rather they spotted you.

None other than Gon and Killua, Gon practicly jumped on you. “[READER]!!!!!” He screamed as he tackled you.

Of fucking course you thought.

They bombarded you with so many questions it made Kikyos question look like a breath of fresh air.

They held onto you so tightly it was impossible to breath. You started thrashing and screaming, guards rushed over and threatened the boys that they would be kicked out.

The guards stood between you and the monsters, they started arguing with the guards saying that you were their sibling and they had a right to talk to you.

You simply ran back to biskys side(she wa sin the bathroom so she didn’t see them jump on you)

“Are you alright?” Bisky said concerned “yea I’m fine…” you said keeping your head down as some strange attempt to make yourself small.

The guards explained the rules and how the game works the entire time the boys were staring at you intently.

A quick rock paper scissors game happened to see who would go in first. Gon of course won, you had placed 17th and bisky was 16th she said she would wait for you.

As you entered the game you met a weird lady that let you know the jist of how the game works and off you went. You landed and almost instantly grabbed biskys hand and ran. Lucky for you Gon was occupied with some random guy that was talking to him.

Luck seems to hate and love you.

All you could do was hope Bisky was right, what wonders await you here?

That’s all for today I want to right more but I’m so tired rn so I’ll try and update y’all tomorrow. Love you all bye bye(p.s sorry if there are spelling mistakes my phone hates me)♡´･ᴗ･`♡

[directdogman]

I have two questaroonies.

(1) Does mayor Mingus give little Billy the privilege of legally being considered a child? She seemingly knows what he's capable of so couldn't she just put him in jail?

(2) Who the hell are little Billy's parents? Where are they? How did they raise him to be the thing he is today?

1)billy isn't considered a legal adult, no. remember during oliver's route, the ID he produces is an obvious fake.

saying mingus COULD put him in jail is kind of ignoring the implication that billy has already been through the juvenile courts at least once, which is implied in at least one of the mingling scenes. others below mingus have certainly tried and failed.

i think the reason she doesn't try this is obvious if you think it through. billy is an absolute pest and if placed in any sort of holding place, he would see to it that the mayor's life is absolute hell. her own goons (stabby + shooty) literally look up to billy as a criminal, so imagine what it'd do to DT to have billy end up in a prison for adults. these petty crooks would leave prison with actual training, courtesy of billy. unless he was placed solely in solitary, he would absolutely have an awful influence on the prison population.

and imagine you're in mingus' place and have to try explaining to virtually anyone why you decided to have a random child you dislike placed in solitary confinement! basically, good luck KEEPING him there. and y'know, once he's out, you'd better believe he'd become a problem for you. it's a dead-end strategy. her strat of keeping him where she can see him is her only play, given how unassuming his physical form is. she knows how dangerous he is, but would struggle to sell it convincingly to anyone who doesn't know him well, and it would create nothing but problems for her to actually try to nip the problem in the bud.

2)i actually considered partly answering this question in-game with a whole subplot that basically amounts to gingi asking "where are this kid's PARENTS???" and looking into the matter, only to keep finding a trail of dead-ends and basically realizing that billy's parents only exist on paper, adding an extra layer of confusion and malevolence to the character. but, i decided against it based on having too much to do already. take from that what you will

[yandere-fics]

♡ Sophie Prey/Predator ♡

It wasn't a smart idea but it was your ONLY idea for getting free from her finally, you didn't have much of a chance of actually escaping her, from the couple of weeks she'd kept you in her apartment you knew she was a trained killer and had hunted more advanced targets down in a matter of moments before so really you stood virtually no chance against her but you were desperate, your kidnapper had grown only more touchy, insisting she would give you what you needed and while you didn't hate your kidnapper, though you really should have, you also were not about to just let her have her way with you, if she did that then you were sure your fate and her 'lover' would be sealed, there was no way she'd let her toy go after that, so today when she began to get handsy with you, you decided to make a bet with her. You'd be good for her and let her take care of you but she had to let you try to run from her, you phrased it as, if she really wanted to keep you then she had to prove it to you and if you really wanted to be with her as she claimed you secretly wanted then you wouldn't be able to outrun her because you wouldn't be motivated enough. She really didn't want to but she agreed, she wanted to prove to you that she knew what you needed best and so now here you were, ducking down alleyways in town, trying to avoid her detection until time ran out. There was really only a slim chance she would even uphold the agreements even if you did hide yourself from her really good but trying was better than doing nothing at all.

You tried not to think about her catching you and pinning you down, she couldn't be right, there's no way you secretly liked her yet every time you thought about her hauling you back to her apartment and doing anything she wanted, your breathing grew heavy and your knees weakened a bit, slowing you down ever so slightly. Knowing she could hop out and grab you any moment now was driving you crazy, especially knowing what she would do to you AFTER she caught you. You ran quicker hearing a knife scrape against the wall in the alley you'd paused in, you didn't need to look back to know it was her, she was fucking with you and honestly you couldn't help but find that extremely hot. She could catch you at any time but she wanted to leave you in suspense. Hearing her heavy boots stomping towards you as you tripped, smelling the scent of smoke on her, it was too much for you to handle, you felt like her prey but in a good way? You never expected to like being chased by your kidnapper but you were way more into it than you should have been.

"Found you doll~ What's my prize?" You rolled over onto your back to face her, not bothering to stand up because she'd just catch you again anyways. Damn bastard was actively smoking just so you'd be able to smell her trailing behind you. "Aww my dolls face is all flushed. Let me get you back to our apartment, unless you want me to do you in this alley like an animal?"

You pondered it for a moment before shaking your head, that could wait till next time. "Can we d-do this again?"

"Hmm, I suppose my doll does need to be chased every once in awhile. Next time I'll do you in the alleyway though." You think you actually really liked your kidnapper now. She was right.

[hauntedwitch04]

Owl

Modern!Rhysand x reader

Words: about 1.0k words

Warnings: some angst but than is totally fluff and happy, rhysie is just a lovey dovey

Author’s note: Hi everybody! Sorry to be this late, life is just being crazy right now. I hope you like this, even if I know it's note exactly my best!

P.s this is the result of a sleepy trip on the train to get at uni :), like every oneshot I'm writing btw ahahah

Requests are open I Ask

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🎃Halloween party 🎃

DAY 9: "Did you really gift me an owl?" "You love the little one from Harry Potter, so i thought it would be a good gift."

You have known Rhys since you were very young, but even today you are still sometimes amazed at the shit he can pull off.

Your father worked for his father at the Night C. Corporation, was his right-hand man, and that always allowed the two of you to hang out and play together. As you grew up then you became closer and closer, being part of the same group of friends and supporting each other in the escapes you both made from your homes, tired of the toxic environment you lived in.

You never had a good relationship with or your own, and because of that you considered her mother to be your own, since she also considered you essentially a daughter.

You were beside him in all the moments of his life, both the good and the bad. You were by his side even as he buried his mother and sister, whom you also regarded as a younger sister and loved sincerely, who died in a car accident with the father of what was once his best friend, Tamlin, who was hardly hurt in the accident.

At the funeral, you had seen him shed only one tear, a single drop of weeping had run down his face during the entire event, as he stood next to his father, who as always had a hard, impenetrable gaze, although this time in his eyes you could actually see the pain of loss. Rhys had only let himself go with you, when you had gone to his room in the evening to tell him you were going home and to say good night. He had fallen to the floor in front of you, hugging your knees as he cried in despair, immediately you had lowered yourself to his level and hugged him, letting him vent in the crook of his neck as I gently stroked his back.

Eventually you had fallen asleep hugging him as you held him close, since he had asked you to stay and if he could hold you because he needed human contact, or rather he needed to feel you close.

A few months after this had happened his father had also died, however, from natural causes, leaving him holding his entire empire when he was little more than a boy.

You even here never abandoned him and helped him to run what was left to him, and he in return had appointed you vice president. Many had not appreciated this choice, along with that of hiring his most various friends on the board, and he in response had simply fired them.

And that brings us to where we are today. You just closed a deal today with Helion, the CEO of the Day&Day Company, and in keeping with tradition Rhys gave you a gift. You had taken the rounds of giving you a gift every time someone closes a deal after you had muddled through a virtually impossible one, and Rhys wanted to thank you.

You laugh thinking about what Rhys could have gotten you; last time it was a pink cowboy hat that now hangs above your bed. You enter his studio and are greeted by an incredible image.

Rhys is behind his desk, behind a small cage, inside of which is an owl inside.

"Whose owl is it?" You ask bewilderedly, as you approach. It's really beautiful, and you can't help but touch its feathers, feeling how biting they are.

"Yours." Your friend simply says, as he walks around the table to come beside you and put an arm around your shoulders.

"Did you really gift me an owl?" Ask shocked and amused at the same time.

"You love the little one from Harry Potter, so i thought it would be a good gift." He responds as if it were the most obvious thing.

"You are not well my darling." You comment before turning to him and looking into his eyes. "Thank you, though. I've always wanted an owl, ever since I saw Harry Potter when I was little." You finish laughing as you hug him.

He returns the gesture, but not before whispering something in your ear.

"They had thought of another gift also, however, I need to know if you want it or not." Rhys says, pulling away from the embrace a little, but still holding me in his arms.

It has been a few years now that the slight boundary between friendship and something more is becoming more and more blurred, constantly flirting with each other or through gestures that blatantly no two friends would ever make, so much so that your friends do nothing but tease you.

"And what would that be?" You ask in a whisper. He adjusts a strand of your hair, then approaches your ear again.

"Well a dinner in your favorite restaurant, at seven o'clock, just you, me and a bottle of wine." He proposes, and looking into his eyes you understand perfectly that tonight the relationship between the two of you will inevitably change, you have been pretending not to know this for too many years now by covering your eyes, but at the same time you cannot wait for the moment when it will happen.

"You can count on it." You respond by leaving him a kiss on his cheek, already dreaming of receiving a different kind of kiss from him this evening.

[fox-bright]

Today I did the short online version of the Stop the Bleed course, which is a first-responder for civvies training. It's only 25 minutes and very basic, but there might be some things in there you don't know yet!

It goes very briefly through the proper methods for identifying a dangerous bleed, compressing a wound, packing a deep wound, and applying a tourniquet. It's ultra-basic, very simple terminology and low-stress.

There is no live gore; there is some animation, and very short videos of techniques being demonstrated on silicone limbs.

It takes about as much time as it does to make and eat a pair of sandwiches, so it won't cut into your day too much, and you never know when the information might prove useful.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Yay prompts time!!

1. A 5 + 1 idea? Untamed verse: 5 times people flirted with NMJ and he Did Not Realize, and for the one, either the one time he Did Get It, or the one time he tried to flirt with someone else.

5+1 times Lan sect members tried to marry NMJ in front of LXC's salad - ao3

1

The Cloud Recesses was fairly large – not as large as the Nightless City or Lanling City, but impressive enough in its own way, and certainly large enough that a recent guest would need to be shown around a fair number of times before they got the hang of getting around.

That happened to suit Lan Xichen’s purposes perfectly.

Nie Mingjue was more than happy to take him up on his offer to show him new parts of the Cloud Recesses – even if his agreement was perhaps more motivated by a desire to move around than a desire to admire the surroundings, it was still agreement, and that was what was important. He did express a little concern that he was imposing on Lan Xichen, making him walk around the paths that had been familiar to him since childhood, but Lan Xichen firmly assured him that he was no burden at all.

Far from it.

In fact, the opportunity to spend time with Nie Mingjue, virtually alone, was utterly priceless.

They were talking about this and that and nothing and everything, just as they always did – Lan Xichen had never met anyone with whom the words flowed as well and as easily as with Nie Mingjue – when Lan Wangji wandered out of a side path, a solemn and rosy-cheeked little boy.

Lan Xichen was happy to see him, of course. He was always happy to see his little brother, and even more so as of late. Lan Wangji had been so sad these past few months since their mother’s death, and it had really only been very recently that he had emerged from his shell. Nie Mingjue had had something to do with that as well, since there didn’t seem to be anything he couldn’t do, and Lan Wangji had gotten very attached to him as a result, and often went looking for him.

It was only that sometimes Lan Xichen, who barely had any time to have Nie Mingjue all to himself, sometimes wished Lan Wangji would come looking…just a little less often.

“Hey there, Wangji,” Nie Mingjue greeted Lan Wangji with a bright smile that made Lan Xichen’s heart quiver. “Well met. Having a good day today?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“As am I,” Lan Xichen interjected. “We won’t stand in your way, Wangji, if there was somewhere you were going…?”

Lan Wangji shook his head, then reached out and tugged Nie Mingjue’s sleeve, his usual signal that he wanted to ask a question.

Nie Mingjue looked at him in silent question, prompting him without pressuring him – he was really great with kids – and after a few moments of chewing over his thoughts, Lan Wangji finally spoke.

“I want to marry you.”

Lan Xichen choked.

Nie Mingjue blinked, then laughed and scooped Lan Wangji up into his arms. “I appreciate that,” he said warmly. “You don’t know how much, really. But marriage is a big old boring ritual, and I’m not planning on doing it for years and years. I’m sure you can find someone you like better than me in the meantime, yeah?”

“No. Only you.” Lan Wangji insisted.

“Well, there’s plenty of time for that,” Nie Mingjue said, giving him a hug and then putting him back down. “But, you know, if you want to get married, you need to make sure you have the criteria for it. Have you been keeping up with your lessons?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Good. Keep it up.”

“I will.”

With that, Lan Wangji headed off purposefully, probably towards the training field or maybe the library to do some more copying – probably preparing himself for his future wedding, Lan Xichen thought bitterly, scowling after the (apparently) would-be thief that was his younger brother.

“Oh, don’t make that sort of face,” Nie Mingjue said, seeing him and chuckling. “He’s not going to leave you that quickly. Kids that age, they just get all sorts of ideas in their heads…”

Lan Xichen had a better notion of Lan Wangji’s personality than Nie Mingjue did, but he felt it was preferable that Nie Mingjue continue to not realize how serious Lan Wangji was about his little offer – and anyway, Lan Wangji was only six. Surely he’d find someone he liked better, and leave Nie Mingjue to Lan Xichen, as it ought to be.

“There’s still plenty of time,” he agreed, then smiled at his friend. “Shall we continue?”

2

“Shufu, we have to do something,” Lan Xichen hissed, increasingly desperate.

Nie Mingjue was being cornered by a whole bunch of sect leaders, each and every one of them seeming intent on talking to him about his future marriage. It was no surprise, of course, what with him finally coming out of his filial mourning, recently come of age and already a sect leader of one of the Great Sects; any sect that managed to squeeze their daughters (or their sons, for that matter) into the position of his wife would have pulled off quite a political coup. The fact that Nie Mingjue was uninterested in taking a wife so soon was irrelevant to all of them.

It was not, however, irrelevant to Lan Xichen.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Lan Qiren said to him, his uncle toneless as ever and clearly not treating the situation with the gravity it deserved. “He’s turning them all down, isn’t he?”

“They’re trying to trap him! If he says the wrong thing to the wrong person, he’ll insult them, and they’ll be able to use that as a reason to try to get him into trouble and make him do what they want – ”

“Your political acuity has improved,” Lan Qiren said to him, sounding appreciative, and normally Lan Xichen would preen at the compliment, a rarity from his stern, conservative uncle, but now was not the time.

Now was the time to intervene so all those poachers would keep their hands off of Nie Mingjue!

“Shufu, surely there must be something we can do,” Lan Xichen said. He was shifting from one foot to the other, impatient and anxious. He knew it made him seem even younger than he was, a reminder that he was still a callow youth, an adolescent, not yet ready to take the mantle of sect leadership and make important decisions for himself, but he didn’t know how else to convey that this was important. “It’s appalling that they’d ambush him like this, at the very first discussion conference after he’s put away his mourning clothes. It’s in such bad taste!”

“That is true.”

“And we’re the Nie sect’s allies, right? We should make a stand of some sort, stand up for him – show our support – something –”

“That seems a bit too far for a mere alliance,” Lan Qiren remarked. He was stroking his beard. “Xichen.”

“Yes?”

“You do not need to speak around the subject with me, and indeed I would prefer that you did not. If you wish for me to rescue your friend, I will do so.”

“Thank you, shufu,” Lan Xichen said gratefully.

Lan Qiren nodded, then seemed to take a moment to take a breath – almost as if he were steeling himself, though Lan Xichen didn’t know why – and then made his way over to Nie Mingjue, who was listening to some small sect leader passing along his daughter’s effusive compliments over the breadth of his shoulders with a fixed smile on his face that suggested he wanted to throw himself out a window.

Lan Xichen didn’t actually hear what his uncle said, precisely, but he did hear the immediate silence afterwards.

“Ah, forgive me,” Lan Qiren said loudly. “Were you not engaged in a competition of citing terrible examples of courting poetry? I had overheard several of the statements made, and simply assumed.”

Lan Xichen’s eye twitched. Had his uncle just propose to Nie Mingjue himself?

“Age takes precedence,” Nie Mingjue said with a laugh that was more genuine than any of his previous expressions. “I’m sorry, everyone, I’m afraid I must allow Teacher Lan to sweep me away. We’ll be leaving now��”

Lan Xichen made a beeline to where they were walking away from the crowd.

“ – cannot begin to express my thanks,” Nie Mingjue was saying to Lan Qiren, who nodded. Taking the credit for it himself! How could he?!

“Thank Xichen,” Lan Qiren said. “It was his idea that we intervene on your behalf.”

Nie Mingjue turned his smile onto Lan Xichen, who decided that he could forgive his uncle after all.

(But only if he wasn’t serious about marrying Nie Mingjue!)

3

“I seem to have a problem,” Nie Mingjue announced.

“Oh?” Lan Xichen asked, leaning back and looking up at his beloved friend and, now, sworn brother. He was standing on one of the paths in the Cloud Recesses, wreathed with light from the afternoon sun, and he looked happy and light-hearted, with that new expression of freedom that he had only regained now that the war was over. And beautiful, of course, but that was nothing new. “What’s the problem?”

“Your newest ward seems to have taken a liking to me,” Nie Mingjue said, his eyes twinkling as he smiled, as he dropped down to sit next to Lan Xichen on the bench. “He’s been following me around all day, you know, and vows that he won’t let me go ever again.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes narrowed a little – what was it with Lan Wangji’s family line, adopted or not, that made them both incredibly precocious and inclined to stealing? – but he maintained his smile.

“Did he now?” he said, and shook his head. “How silly. Do you remember, Wangji said something similar when he was a little older than that?”

“I do remember,” Nie Mingjue said, shaking his own head. “Ah, those were the days. I mentioned it to him, you know, when I was dropping little Sizhui off with him.”

Lan Xichen paused in what he was doing.

“You…mentioned it? Mentioned what?”

“The fact that he once asked to marry me, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, utterly oblivious. “As a demonstration of how silly children could be, and a compliment for how similar his ward was growing to be like him. He simply hummed thoughtfully at me – I have no idea what he meant by that, though I’m sure you would’ve known at once if you were there.”

Oh, Lan Xichen didn’t have to be there to know. He already knew perfectly well what Lan Wangji’s feelings on the matter were, and they hadn’t changed one bit even with the whole Wei Wuxian business – it was only that he now wanted to marry two eligible young masters, not one. Clearly his little brother needed a refresher course on Do not be greedy.

And now little Lan Sizhui was trying his luck as well?!

At least there was enough of an age difference that Nie Mingjue probably wouldn’t take him too seriously…

“Sizhui is certainly a cute child,” Lan Xichen said, aiming for neutrality.

“Delightful,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Anyway, what are you up to?”

Lan Xichen was only too happy to change the subject.

4

Lan Xichen had his hands full with trying to mediate between Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, who were at each other’s throats again – Nie Mingjue was in a particularly nasty temper, too, with his mood having taken a considerable downturn over the past few months despite Jin Guangyao assuring Lan Xichen that he was playing Clarity for him regularly – and he didn’t need any new stresses.

Least of all ones like Su Minshan.

What Jin Guangyao saw in the man, Lan Xichen would never know. He’d been a Lan sect disciple once, and probably Lan Xichen should know the man better than he did – he was around Lan Wangji’s age, though, and Lan Xichen had a bit of a blind spot for his brother’s peers within their own sect. Still, he used to be a Lan disciple, but was no longer, and he’d gone off to make his own sect, which was perfectly reasonable and no one could fault him for, only he’d done it using Lan sect techniques, which they could. It was maddening!

And yet Jin Guangyao persisted in defending him, time and time again…truly, Lan Xichen’s younger sworn brother had too kind a heart.

Far too kind.

“I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen said, managing to maintain his smile through sheer practice in willpower. “I must have misheard something. Did Sect Leader Su just offer you a marriage, Mingjue-xiong?”

Su She looked as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, as he ought – how dare he try to steal a march on Nie Mingjue behind Lan Xichen’s back, when Lan Xichen was right there? Did he think Lan Xichen was too busy paying attention to Jin Guangyao (who’d vanished off somewhere, come to think of it) to notice when someone was trying to propose marriage to Nie Mingjue?

No way. Absolutely not.

“Xichen, what are you doing here?” Nie Mingjue asked, frowning at him, and – why was he asking that? Why wasn’t he laughing and agreeing that Su She’s offer was completely ridiculous, the way he usually did when some other sect leader made him an offer? “Weren’t you with Meng Yao?”

“He had to go,” Lan Xichen said vaguely, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on Su She, who took a step back when he noticed. “Anyway, I’m here now. What’s this about a marriage, Mingjue-xiong? Something you’re considering?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nie Mingjue said, sighing. “And it wasn’t a marriage proposal. Sect Leader Su was only making a joke.”

Was he, now?

Lan Xichen smiled at Su She, who for some reason chose to take another step back, then yet another.

“I’m sorry I missed it, then,” he said. “I’d be interested in hearing such…humor.”

“I sadly don’t remember exactly what I said,” Su She said hastily. “Perhaps another time, Sect Leader Lan, Sect Leader Nie. I’m afraid I have another meeting to attend at the moment.”

“Do you? What a pity…”

Su She walked away very quickly.

“You’re really not busy?” Nie Mingjue asked Lan Xichen. “I thought you would be spending time with Meng Yao this afternoon.”

“Ah, I think he’s busy? Anyway, it’s been too long since we spent time together, da-ge! Why don’t we spend the afternoon together…?”

That way he could make sure Su She didn’t come back with any stupid ideas about making that ‘joke’ of his into something more serious.

5

“What do you mean you’re not going to be sect leader again?” Jin Ling asked. He sounded appalled.

Lan Xichen was technically in seclusion at the moment, but he pressed his ear against his door, as he did with anything involving the recently resurrected and now conscious fierce corpse Nie Mingjue.

(Nie Huaisang really didn’t do things by halves, he thought to himself, and for once the pang of sorrow that that thought brought forth was not as bad as it had been. Progress of a sort, he supposed.)

“Why would I be?” Nie Mingjue asked. His voice was lower than it had been in life, raspier; it was probably due to having had his head cut off for so many years. It was still his voice, though. Lan Xichen had missed it. “Huaisang has only just finally had an opportunity to do the job right. I’m going to let him have the chance to shape the sect the way he thinks it ought to be.”

“But…”

“Anyway, I’m not suited for it.”

“Why not? There’s no rule against a fierce corpse being a sect leader!” That was Lan Jingyi, loud as ever.

“That’s only because no one thought of it as a possibility,” Lan Sizhui pointed out. “Anyway, I thought Sect Leader Nie has been doing a pretty good job this past year or so. Why swap him out now?”

“You just say that because you like Chifeng-zun,” Jin Ling grumbled. “Everything he says, you agree with.”

“That’s not true!”

“There are other things you have to think of,” Nie Mingjue interjected, clearly intent on redirecting their argument. “I’m not really alive, after all. Huaisang has shared half his lifeforce with me in order to give me a semblance of real life, rather than merely life as a fierce corpse or even a ghost general like Wen-gongzi – we’ll live together, die together, and as mobile targets go, I’m a lot tougher to kill than he is, but in the end, I’m still dead. And that has certain connotations.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I can’t have children,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “My ancestors would never forgive me for cutting off the main family line like that.”

“Wait, that’s the reason you won’t be sect leader?” Jin Ling exclaimed. “Because you can’t get married?!”

“That’s ridiculous!” Lan Jingyi shouted, equally fervent. “That shouldn’t be a barrier! That’s just – unfair! I mean, not having children…it’s absurd. You can always adopt, can’t you? And as for marriage, I mean, I’d marry you!”

Lan Xichen felt his eye twitch in a way it hadn’t in years and years.

Lan Jingyi, too?

He would’ve expected it from Lan Sizhui, who’d been a precocious little seducer ever since he was young, but – Lan Jingyi? As far as Lan Xichen knew, he’d only ever been in love with his dinner. That showed what he knew, he supposed; you never knew what sort of hidden depths people had.

“I appreciate it,” Nie Mingjue said, and he sounded serious about it, too. What in the world? Was he serious? Lan Xichen supposed that Nie Mingjue had  always liked lively people, after all, including his own brother…yet surely, the age difference…Nie Mingjue’s current un-alive status…there were so many reasons why it wouldn’t work! “You have a kind heart, and a generous nature. But you really ought to be more thoughtful before saying things like that, all right? You never play too lightly with matters of your future happiness.”

“I – I guess,” Lan Jingyi said. He sounded as though he was frowning. “But I wasn’t speaking lightly! I meant –”

He meant what?!

“No need to explain. You’re a good sort, Lan Jingyi, always willing to help another. Keep that heart of yours.”

“But –”

Lan Xichen ‘accidentally’ knocked down a vase in his room. The crash distracted everyone outside, and then everyone realized they were too close to his household which was supposed to represent silent contemplation – silent as in not disturbed by others – and soon enough, Nie Mingjue was saying, “Why don’t you head back to the main area?”

“Yeah, probably a good idea…aren’t you coming with us, Chifeng-zun?”

“I’ll make my way there eventually,” Nie Mingjue assured them. “For the moment, I just want a quiet place to sit.”

He’d been sitting on the bench outside Lan Xichen’s seclusion for at least a shichen every afternoon, if not two. He said he did it for the quiet to anyone who asked, but Lan Xichen thought it might be…more than that.

Maybe he was waiting for Lan Xichen.

+1

“Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said. He was smiling. “You’re out of seclusion?”

“I am,” Lan Xichen said. “I have – many things to say to you.”

“Not more apologies! Haven’t we had our fill of them?”

“Perhaps. I have a different question for you – one I should have asked a long time ago.”

“Ask anything.”

“All right,” Lan Xichen said. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course.”

Lan Xichen blinked. “…what, just like that?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that for years,” Nie Mingjue said. “Why wouldn’t I say yes?”

Lan Xichen opened his mouth, then closed it again. Had it really been that easy all this time?

“Anyway, who else am I supposed to marry, especially after I put in all that effort to learn all your family rules?” Nie Mingjue chuckled. “I don’t suppose anyone else in your Lan sect would be willing!”

“…mm,” Lan Xichen said. “Let’s focus on us, shall we?”