#for some reason the original post of this just. went missing?
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new phone. what the fuck
#original#I missed a call and they left a message#first message I've gotten on the new phone#I clicked the notification to open it. it appears to instead initiate a *phone call*#with a robot that says 'please enter your password and then press pound'#and when I did nothing repeated that#I then hung up#assuming that it was some sort of weird thing that might've had to do with the fact the voicemail said it was from 'dial*86'#instead of an actual number and that might've tricked my phone into making a call. which is probably for scam reasons#so assuming that. I went to just open the actual vm app#only to be greeted with an opening card that says vm needs permissions#(formatted so it looked like there was supposed to be a list but they forgot to pass it in)#and saying 'hit continue then grant the permissions'#I hit continue and got the popup pictured in this post#I will not be doing that#what the fuck
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😐
#ive been added to this gc for the 3rd or 4th time after i explicitly asked to NOT be added back bc im always fucking getting ignored like#last time the person who added me was like omg i hope this is ok and i was like no it’s actually not ok i dont wanna be added back please#dont add me back and she was like omg im so sorry i totally understand :( and she did it again 😑#the reason i didnt wanna be added back was bc i considered them my best friends at some point but ever since like the p*ndemic started#everything just went downhill and on one hand i understand they have their own lives and don’t have time to answer etc but on the other hand#they never had time to reply to MYYYYYY messages specifically 🙃 and it hurt bitch to be always the one ignored#and the reason i havent left this time like i just didnt care to be added back was bc idc anymore like alsjfjfk im still in contact to#whoever i wanna be in contact with i still text someone individually like i don’t need to be in a group setting to be friends with this#person and she’s mentioned a bunch of times how dead it is lmao so i was like wtv i do send a text once in a blue moon but it’s not as#active as it was when i originally left so it’s not obvious when im ignored lol BUT!!!!!!#the person who added me back…. the person who IGNORED my boundaries and request to leave me the fuck alone has ignored every single message#ive sent since she added me back :)#like she literally just wants public for her little show and she did this even before i left and was the main person why i left lmao bc the#rest were like going through stuff and i was like u cant be here i get it but she’s always ANYWAYS SO ABOUT ME!!!#i literally sent a text i think yesterday? and she didn’t reply to it at all but she just started talking about herself like 😑 WHY DID U ADD#ME BACK!!!! u dont ‘miss US’ lmfao u miss that i kept the gc alive which gave u attention !!!!#i dont want to be ur fucking spectator go post it on fb#anyways end of rant 😌
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tw: black+trans death
from the_yvesdropper on instagram:
our beautiful black trans brother, 35 year old Righteous Torrence "Chevy" Hill, was murdered in Atlanta, GA this weekend.
he went by his nickname 'Chevy' he was originally from Macon, GA. he owned Evollusion, which is a black/ queer owned LGBTQ+ salon in Atlanta that provided and dedicated full service to specializing in hair, nails, barbering and makeup. growing up as young black queer boys/kids, the barbershop experience can sometimes be a tricky space to occupy, this was something that Chevy understood and wanted to cultivate a space of safety where you can also get the affirming look and style you want, and he did exactly that.
Chevy was a beloved son, brother, partner, and father.
one of his last posts that had a photo of himself said :
"if you truly know me, you know i am a humble, modest, private man, that i love my community, i have the love of God in me and will give the shirt off my back to any soul in need, also i never post pictures of myself, legaey give myself credit, that stops today, i am my legacy!"
(a close friend of Chevy asked if i could share more then one photo of Chevy, since he never posted photos of himself and in recent years he got the confidence to want to share more photos and now he won't get the chance to)
Chevy, hey king, hey brother, hey angel, thank you for everything, i lové you, we lové you, i'm so sorry. there are a lot of photographers in heaven who will be able to photograph you as the glorious black trans angel that you are.
there will be a homegoing service/memorial for our brother
there aren't many details about what happened but apparently he was shot by a family member last wednesday, the 28th (at least this article was the one linked in relation to his murder.)
judging by both the IG post and the comments section he was well-loved by many people and those people have many good memories with him and nothing but good things to say. this is a comment that was left by tirajmeansgolden which was hidden by IG for some reason:
I started testosterone in February 2020. I hit this man up at the end of 2019 after numerous Google searches for an LGBT-friendly barber near me (and by near me... he was a good 35-40 minutes from the rural area I was in outside of Atlanta: but when I found out he was a trans man and that his business was the first and only LGBT hair bar, I knew it would be worth the trip). I was a dysphoric mess in his DMs one Sunday. I hated how my hair was growing out. I never had a "masculine" hairstyle before but decided one day I would buzz it all off myself, then allowed it to grow out a bit... I sent him a video and despite him being closed on Sunday, he told me to come through. I got my hair braided and he gave me my first really masculine fade. Explained the different terms. Lined me up. Was asking me about my decision to transition and provided some helpful advice + guidance. I told him how I was a therapist and he was hype and said he talked with a group of trans men and he would love for me to stop by and also give some mental health tips. So whoever said he was humble - wow, what an understatement. Such a community man! Made me feel SO comfortable because barbershops were a source of major trauma and triggers for me. They were such an integral part of my early transition (I just celebrated 4 years later week). And he was such an integral part of the Atlanta Queer community with hosting events like Queer Con. How I found so many other great resources + queer businesses/artists. May you rest in peace, Chevy. You'll be missed. You've made such a different in the lives of countless people. You definitely were living your Purpose + left a legacy behind ...
#op#rest in power#black trans lives matter#death -#black death -#trans death -#didn't add a tw to the top of this post at first. sorry everyone.
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I Missed You
lando norris x fem reader
summary: You missed seeing Lando being happy after a race, and you couldn't wait to tell him how proud you were. (1.4k words)
warnings: fluff, stablished relationship, a bit of mclaren slander
a/n when i tell you i loved this idea SO SO much. i’m not too sure i’m happy with how this turned out but i really hope you guys enjoy it 🩷 i apologise for posting this just before the race but it was a bit hard to get started for some reason 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!
check out the original request here!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
The weekend in Monza was one you were hoping to forget. The tension in the air reflected not only in the team but also in the comments people were making about it, having even sports commentators and content creators question McLaren’s entire strategy to keep their fighting position in the WCC and also have a shot at the WDC.
Lando’s demeanour immediately after getting off the car was something you would never forget, though, even if you tried. It was pretty obvious for everyone, even if he tried his hardest to never say something bad about his team and his teammate. That team was his home anyway. He had been with McLaren even before his F1 career started, and even after weekends like this one, he would never doubt he wanted to achieve great things with them.
That is probably what made it harder for him. This year they were competing not only for points and podiums but for something bigger, and after knowing what he is capable of, ending up in that position absolutely crushed him, and you hated to see him debating with himself.
Once the weekend was finally over and you were leaving Italy, you wanted to make him feel better, telling him how great he was and how proud you were. You even shot some comments at McLaren for everything that went down, but he didn’t want to hear it; he barely wanted to talk about it, so you just dropped it. You understood him anyway, so you had to leave everything behind and just be supportive of your boyfriend.
You were hoping this weekend would be different, better, everyone was, and there was a lot of talking in the team that they would make the right decisions to keep fighting now that they had the chance. This, of course, would only mean something until they actually proved it during the race.
Lando was in a better mood coming into this weekend; he trusted his team and he was confident they were backing him up. That was until the qualifying came. A yellow flag being pulled out by mistake during Q1 caused him to lose the opportunity to even put up a fight, and he ended up being P17. It wasn’t even his fault, but you knew he was beating himself up for that result.
“Lando,” you called him right after he came back to the garage to watch the rest of the qualifying. He looked at you with a disappointed smile. “It’s not your fault, baby.”
“I know.” He pulled you into a hug, not wanting you to worry about him too much. “There’s nothing I could have done. We just have to wait and see what we can do tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” you replied into his chest, rubbing small circles in his back to let him know you were there for him, no matter what.
“We’ll see. The car felt okay, but it’s hard to overtake on this track. It’s quite a long straight.” He let out a nervous giggle as he pulled away; he didn’t sound as confident as you were hoping, but you knew he was right. “Some of it is just going to have to cross our fingers.”
There was no point in fighting him when he got like that, so you just nodded. “I’ll be crossing everything I have then.”
He went off with the rest of his team as you stayed back to watch the rest of the cars complete the qualifying. The air was starting to get tense again, and even though you knew everyone was nervous with Lando’s result, you weren’t sure if it was just your own feelings talking. But like Lando said, you were going to have to wait and see what the team could come up with, you were just hoping they would do the right thing.
Race day was finally here, and with Lewis starting from the pit lane due to a new power unit and Pierre being excluded due to fuel flow rate, Lando had been promoted to P15. Sure, it would have been better if Lando had the chance to fight for his starting position, but at least that was something.
You could see he was still not completely confident in how the race would go, but you trusted enough for the both of you.
Watching the race from the garage was something that always made you incredibly nervous, but especially in this position. But Lando managed to get to P12 by lap 2, and everyone was incredibly excited by his overtakes.
As the race went on and he felt more confident with the car, he started to climb his way up to the top 10, trusting the team’s decisions with the strategy they were sticking to, and you were so glad everything was falling in place.
The rest of the race still made you bite your nails at how nervous you were, but the bliss in the entire garage when he overtook someone was indescribable. He was driving the race of his life, and even the radios he exchanged with the team radiated that. As always, the last few laps were nervewracking, but the fact that he made it all the way to P6 and was even helping Oscar with his own race left everyone with a good taste. Not a complete terrible weekend after all.
During the last lap, however, an unfortunate crash between Carlos and Checo pushed him to P4, meaning he gained 11 positions during the race; not that you ever doubted him, but seeing him end up there with the fastest lap after an absolute mess of the qualifying made you excited to see him. After confiming everyone was okay, you took the liberty to celebrate your boyfriend’s race.
Lando got out of the car and went to greet his team, cheers and smiles all over the place. Everyone was praising him for the incredible work he made, and his smile didn’t go away for a second the entire time.
You knew you would still have to wait to congratulate him; he still had to do media before coming back to his room, where you were waiting for him, but seeing him so happy in the monitors made you grow impatient.
It felt like it had been a while since you saw him so happy after a race.
After what felt like forever, you heard him come back to the garage. You stoop up from the small couch and opened the door, where you were greeded by your boyfriend.
“Hey, you.” You said, closing the door behind him.
“Hi,” he replied, smile so big you could see his dimples.
“That was amazing, Lando. I knew you would do amazing, but I can’t even describe how proud I am.”
He smiled even more at your words. He closed the distance between you when he took a few steps, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply. You could even feel him smiling then, and that filled your heart.
“Thank you; it was a good day,” he said when he pulled away, looking down at you with loving eyes. “I think everything worked out.” You just nodded as you admired him.
“I missed you,” you whispered as you brushed a few curls that fell on his forehead.
“What do you mean? We’ve been together the last three weeks. You saw me just before the race." To say he was confused was an understatement, and you could see it in his face.
“I mean you, this. I missed seeing you so happy and smiley. Looks good on you.”
Lando was a bit embarrassed by your confession; he thought he did a better job at hiding how much the results affected him, at least to you. It was never his intention to be so down when he was with you, but man, was he endeared by your words. “I needed this,” was all he said, and you know he was right. And it wasn’t only him; you knew the team needed this as well.
“I know, and I know you hate to hear it, but I told you.”
He let out a laugh, not a nervous one this time. “Yes, you did,” he hugged you again, much tighter as he buried his face on the crook of your neck. “Thank you for being here and supporting me, even during my bad times.” He spoke with so much sincerity.
“I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
#lando norris#ln4#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#formula 1#f1#lando norris smut#giannaln4 writes#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#lando norris one shot#lando norris oneshot#f1 x reader
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JJK Headcanon: Megumi cockblocks Toji/Megumi "Menace" Fushiguro/ Toji having beef with his 15 yr old son
Warning: Swearing, Female reader, Mentions of sexual activities but not explicit, ooc on Megumi’s part, Toji being Toji
Series: Jujutsu Kaisen
Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader(romantic), Megumi x Mom!reader(parental/platonic)
Pronouns: She/Her(Reader is referred to as mom, mama, and mother by Toji and Megumi)
Word Count: 2.2K
(A/N: This is based on my one-shot I did and I wanted to expand on it because I just felt the need to. This headcanon went off the rails and is in different directions. Let me know if I missed any warnings!)
[Edited and Proofread! on 12/9/23 8:05pm. Forgive the strange format, Tumblr wouldn’t let me edit the post so I had to do it on the original doc and paste the edited version.]
Please enjoy!
So Megumi cock blocking Toji started out unintentionally and by accident. But as he got older, he did it more to annoy his dad and get on his nerves.
I will die on this hill but Megumi is a Mama's boy. Though it goes unsaid(by him at least), everyone knows it. Toji knows it, Gojo knows it, his classmates and friends know it, and everyone at Jujutsu High knows it. Hell, his own shadows know it.
Obviously you know it but you don’t want to embarrass your son. But it does fill you with love and contentment to know your son loves you dearly.
But that’s the problem, he LOVES you. Loves you more than Toji. Well, Megumi loves Toji as a dad and father. It’s just as he gets older, especially as a teenager, he often butts heads with Toji and gets fairly annoyed by his presence. All Toji has to do is breathe in Megumi’s direction and your son groans, rolls his eyes, and leaves.
When Megumi was younger, he was attached to you. You were always carrying him inside the house, when you were cooking, and even when folding the laundry. He didn’t like being far from you. All you had to do was be within 6 feet of your son or where he can see you and he will be fine.
So when Toji holds Megumi because you need to get or do something where you can’t bring your son, Megumi is all fussy and cranky. He doesn’t cry often but he is just all over Toji. Pulling at his hair, shirt, and cheek. Toji has been mostly successful with Megumi when putting him down for a nap, feeding or bathing him but sometimes it’s a struggle.
When you do it for Megumi, he is all cooperative and easy to handle. Toji clicks his tongue when he sees it happen and looks at Megumi as your son nuzzles into your shoulder. “I see how it is Megumi. All nice and easy for Mama but not for me.”
After successfully putting Megumi to bed, Toji gets frisky as wants some alone time with you. Since Megumi was born, your son has taken up most of your time. Leaving your poor husband with a lack of attention and affection. You want to make it up to him for lost time so you let him have his way with you.
However, just before Toji could go down on you and make you see stars, you hear Megumi’s crying. So out of instinct, you grab one of Toji’s shirts and make your way to comfort your son. Half the time, the mood gets instantly lost and Toji gets sexually frustrated. He was so close to boning you and your son just has to stop him from doing so.
Toji gets blue balls so many times during Megumi’s youth, it’s a straight-up crime to him.
There are times when Toji doesn’t care if Megumi starts to cry in his bed. He read somewhere that babies just cry for no reason so at times let them cry it out. When he reads that, he’s not letting you out of his grasp when his son is crying in his crib. You feel the urge to comfort him but when Toji makes you wait a couple minutes and start to hear Megumi’s cries grow quieter, then they stop. That gives you two the green light to each other to yourselves.
75% Toji would have success with you but there was the other 25% he didn’t.
When Megumi was a toddler, he mostly would knock on your door in the dead of night either because he had a nightmare or wanted to sleep with you two. Luckily, this happens after your “nightly session” with Toji.
But Megumi would ask Toji to help him with stuff or pop up out of nowhere when wanted to have a piece of you. Toji hugging your front and cups your body while you cook? Megumi is by the kitchen table asking what are you making for dinner. Toji cages you against the wall as you put away the laundry? Megumi pops his head out of his room and asks Toji if he saw his dog plushie that was on his bed.
But Megumi’s clinginess to you is genetic because Toji is the exact same to you. Way before Megumi was on the drawing board, Toji was either all over you or near you. No in between, it was one or the other.
You felt bad because it feels like your son and your husband are fighting for your attention. You know Megumi’s a child, who needs more guidance and help, but you know your husband has needs too.
But as Megumi goes to school, it was easier for you two to have some alone time. Mostly easier for Toji to be inside of you.
But as Megumi gets the hang of summoning his shadows, it’s all over for Toji. This happens when he’s older as Megumi sometimes lets his dogs out and roam around the house. Like their user, the dogs and shadows love you too. One time, they saw Toji being too close to you and thought he was harassing you. So the dogs ran and pounced on Toji. One of them caught Toji’s wrists in their mouth and started pulling him away from you. Obviously, you called Megumi over to stop his dogs or to call them back. He does so but not without giving Toji a smirk, he definitely may or may not put his dogs up to it just to fuck around with his dad.
For the timely and observant boy he is, Megumi really is just popping in at the wrong times. He didn’t mean to do that to you, he’s well aware of how much you love Toji, both body and soul. He just doesn’t like how Toji isn’t quick and sleek with his intentions with you. Sure, it was Toji’s house and he can do whatever he wants in it. But Megumi also lives here too, so Toji should be more cautious and considerate of his son. Because everyone knows that they would rather bury themselves than see their parents try to give them another sibling.
Though Megumi now dorms at Jujutsu High because of missions, he does come home on weekends and breaks. But it varies from time to time, he would mostly tell you in advance when he would come home or visit. But he sometimes forgets and just drops by unannounced.
Thus, that’s how scenarios like this occur.
He will come home, sometimes knocking/ringing the doorbell but mostly lets himself in, then he walks inside, takes off his shoes, and goes to the living room. His heart slightly beats faster as he awaits the inevitable. It’s like a coin toss, 50/50 chance he’ll be safe or not. He relaxes when he doesn't stumble upon another eye bleaching but when he encounters the other 50%. He cringes inside so hard, he just blames Toji. Nah, he never blames you.
Yes, he’s well aware of men and women having… carnal desires… But you were never shameless about it in public or out in the open. He doesn’t know when it’s just Toji and you. But frankly, he DOES NOT WANT to know or find out. So he believes his father is just a dog in heat almost every time there is an OUNCE of spare time with you.
He either coughs, grunts or speaks to make his presence known. 99% of the time when this happens you are the one to push yourself away from Toji and try to make the situation less awkward for your son. It always ends up embarrassing you in the end.
Toji, in his head, lowkey wants to smack his son to another dimension. Way too salty in his mind.
‘Brat, let me have a moment with your mother, it’s not that hard.’ ‘IDGAF if you're my son, I’ll smack and give hands to my own son if you keep doing this.’
Like father like son, Megumi is doing the same thing in his head.
‘That’s a skill issue’ ‘This is an issue, not an iss-me’ ‘You fell off, what happened? Cause you’re too old?’ ‘Fucking cope, Old Man’.
Because of this, Toji literally has beef with his 15-year-old son.
Should he be pressed about someone younger than him? No! Does he care? Also No. If this man can beef and fight Gojo Satoru and LIVE to see another day, he can have beef with anyone.
Even if it’s his own son.
You should be a good parent and spouse and try to dissipate the fact your husband and son have an unspoken feud with each other. But you can’t help but watch everything unfold when they interact sometimes because it’s just funny and you get a kick out of it.
Just to clarify, it’s never a shouting match or an actual argument. It’s more of petty insults, backhanded compliments, or brutal honesty minus the honesty. It’s like being a spectator at an event. You were watching for entertainment and you were getting your money’s worth. When you would come by Jujutsu High, you would talk about Megumi and Toji’s “interactions”. Saying something along the lines of “They don’t see eye to eye.”
One day, Toji and you decided to pay a visit to the campus because Principal Yagi needed to ask you about something in person. Since it was only you, Toji just wandered the halls and the school’s grounds, waiting for you to be done. As the odds were in his favor as he stumbled upon Megumi and his group doing some training. Toji just pops in and starts talking to Megumi. He acknowledged Yuuji and Nobara but he didn’t spare a glance at Gojo. In fact, he straight up looked at Gojo, gave a look of disgust, and continued talking to Megumi whilst ignoring him.
It didn’t take for some banter to rise between father and son, while no loud voices or malice was felt or seen. This was probably the few times Yuuji and Nobara had seen Megumi get heated, but this was the first time they saw Megumi beefing with his dad.
After a few minutes, Megumi summoned his shadows and Toji decided to change into his fighting stances. Yuuji thinks this is a bad idea but Gojo just smiles, saying that seeing them spar was a “learning experience”. Plus it would be good for Yuuji to watch Toji because Toji was a physical fighter considering his Heavenly Restriction. Though Yuuji has some curse energy, he must box it out with his opponents so he considered and the three watched the two fight it out.
Megumi forgot his old man was an actual threat to the Jujutsu Society because Toji was straight up dodging Megumi’s shadows, their attacks, and even Megumi's own physical attacks. Though Toji wanted to have a little fun, he had to hold back so he wouldn't destroy/kill any of Megumi’s shadows. If he did, you would definitely find out and he would be a dead man for sure.
Anyway, it was so fast-paced that only Gojo was keeping up with the action. He was smiling but he had a shiver up his spine as he remembered that Megumi’s dad was the very reason for his enlightenment and Hollow Purple ability. It was obvious that Megumi wasn’t going to win but he wasn’t one to admit defeat. Then like a blur, Toji charged at Megumi from above and when he landed he created a decently large cater with Megumi at the center. Megumi’s shadows disappear since he is low on curse energy and is completely exhausted.
Both men were heaving and sweating like crazy. Yet out of nowhere, they suddenly hear your voice, LOUD and DESTRESS. You ran over to the two, eyes widening as the carter became bigger the closer you got. You see your son lying on the floor and help him up. You tried dusting off some of the dirt on him while looking concerned. You snapped your head towards Toji, whose smirk disappeared and then returned back again. You began to reprimand him for what he had done. Fighting his own son and damaging the training grounds, like wtf man.
You weren’t really raising your voice or yelling at him. But the firmness and seriousness in your tone about the small sparring session was enough to make someone straighten their posture and use very respective language towards you. There were moments where you tugged at Toji’s ear, pulled at his shirt so he was looking straight at you, or held his forearm tightly while you expressed your disappointment and concerns to him.
Ngl, Toji was a bit bricked up when you were all serious and angry at him. He didn’t mind sleeping on the couch if it meant he got to see this side of yours more often.
Megumi reassures you that he is not physically hurt but his pride is wounded. You told him that if his dad pulled this again, to not engage with it and back off for his own safety. Megumi, because of his agitated mood, felt a bit offended that you didn’t believe your own son could hold his own. Let alone, go toe to toe with his own father.
“Mom, I don’t understand. Why don’t you trust me in fights even though I can handle myself.”
“Megumi, sweetheart, it’s not like that at all. I know you are a strong, smart, and capable person. You are my son, after all.”
“Then why don’t you want me to fight with dad?”
“Oh Megumi, honey. You have no idea the strength and capabilities of your father. You do realize, my dear, your dad was holding back a lot when he was sparring with you.”
Megumi looks shocked at his Pops, who winks at him, before turning his attention back to you.
“Wait, what? Just how strong is he, Mom?”
You didn’t give him a full answer.
All you said was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.”
Megumi and his two classmates look at their teacher to see what you were talking about all the while Gojo was sweating bullets. That’s a story for another day, now you are dragging your husband home and telling your son to call you if anything changes.
So Toji and Megumi have eternal beef with each other. Though it’s more of annoyance and for shits and giggles really. Toji really does love his son and Megumi loves and respects his dad a lot.
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Thank you for reading and hope you have an amazing day with your favorite drink!
#x reader#reader insert#x female reader#fem reader#jjk x reader#jjk toji#jjk megumi#jjk headcanons#jjk#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x y/n#toji x you#dad!toji#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#toji fushigro x reader
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tension
part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!
pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig
length: 3.2k
author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi
tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party
warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!
summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?
originally posted by iholdwhatican
It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.
Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste.
Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony.
Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick
“You look like you’re gonna puke.”
For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump.
You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen.
“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly.
“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.”
You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him.
A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth.
“What happened out there?”
The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.”
“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen?
But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.”
A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.”
He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen.
You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine.
That expression was clear, resolute competition.
Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it.
You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it.
“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?”
“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.”
“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.”
Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it.
Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.”
You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.”
“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”
You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.”
“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.”
“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him.
“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed.
You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together.
When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter.
“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you.
And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes.
Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party.
“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment.
“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything.
Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused.
It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.
Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him.
“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face.
You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing.
“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.”
You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?”
“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.”
You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?”
Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?”
“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.”
Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up.
“You care about me?”
Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth?
“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.”
“Okay, I would never let it get that far-”
“I wanna help.”
He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly.
The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed.
“How much do you need?”
“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.”
Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping.
“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?”
He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this.
You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.”
“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap?
You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.”
“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.”
Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger.
“Then tell me what you need.”
“What do you think I need?”
Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.
Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.”
The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?”
“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating.
His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again.
“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?”
“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.”
A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.
“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.”
You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling.
“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.
“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words.
“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off.
Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs.
The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his.
Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.
You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar.
Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please.
He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him.
You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he.
Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss.
You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning.
Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp.
“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his.
Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks.
“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.”
The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.
As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut.
And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text.
Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?
***
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Looking for Happy Five Hargreeves X FTM Reader -anon request)
~Explicit sexual content -if no likey-stay away please.
Hilariously simple but true summary: Five Hargreeves is sad and horny and wants to fuck, and all he wants is you.
(Don't worry, I will try to take you a little emotional rollercoaster that's not all the dirty-dirty 👍)
~Reader is post-top surgery and pre-bottom surgery.
~This story was done as an anon request, asking if I'd be willing to do a pairing of Five X m reader, or Five X ftm reader. The request left the plot open for me to decide if it had much of one or how deep I went with it. Anon did give me a few fun ideas to include if I could, and I did my best to deliver and had a lot of fun doing it, so I hope you enjoy. Thank you, anon. And special thanks to my buddy Bad Kitty @badkitty3000 for proof reading this and catching my zillions of mistakes.❤️
(18,900 words)
Content Warnings and additional tags: Dom Five and some Sub Five, small 'Scream' movie add in per anon's personal love of the movie with sexy Billy and Stu, light praise kink, daddy kink, rough sex, choking, spanking, public sex, Five being sweet, Five being a cocky jerk, masturbation mentions, flirting)
NOTE: This story takes place during season four and after it, using a series of flashbacks, so it moves between past and present several times. Also, this was obviously written before season 4 came out, with an alternate season 4 ending written my way. It has lots of season 4 trailer and interview mentions to make it more fun and hopefully tie in a little with the real season 4.
~~~~~Looking for Happy~~~~~
Coming out of one of the empty offices at the Temps Commission headquarters, Five is met with silence. He still holds the title to the main building of the time controlling agency that he founded, but now, he and his family are the only ones that know it ever existed.
He has no reason to be there.
It’s as it should be, but like always, he can’t seem to move on.
As Five told The Handler, he is a man that no longer belongs anywhere, only when he said that, he didn’t realize he was the driving force behind so much of his own suffering, or that in the end, it would all come down to him.
Everything he’s done was to restore life as it should be, and finally, this time they won. They are all alive. He should be happy. They are back in their original timeline where they should have always been, but the concept of time and Five’s place in it have always felt like pieces of a puzzle that were never meant to be solved.
For everyone but the Hargreeves, with their exceptional powers given at birth, it’s as if the final battle that brought on the end, and then opened the door for the new beginning never happened.
That means you don’t remember him.
The rest of the world didn’t need to remember the terror. You just needed to live.
Strolling along, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast as the heels of his dress shoes echo down the vacant halls, despite his wins, Five feels empty. All he wants is to go back to a time and place that’s no more, back to when he could feel your lips pressed to his with a desperation that matched his own.
Reaching the end of the hall, he enters the narrow room filled with screens and panels of little white and blue blinking lights. He sinks into one of the industrial style chairs that’s placed in front of the Infinite Switchboard’s main frame.
Five clicks on the outdated looking monitor, his fingers turning the knobs, dialing.
~~~
Not long later, Five’s face is glued to the screen when Klaus peaks in at him from the hall.
Knowing Five would be here, Klaus passes over the threshold, loudly clearing his throat before saying, “Hey there, big bro…watcha doing?”
Five doesn’t even look up. “Yeah, lucky me. Is it time for our weekly check-in already?”
Treading lightly, Klaus approaches. “When you missed dinner tonight, we were a little worried you’d fallen asleep on the countertop in the break room again, but here you are...”
Klaus lightheartedly laughs at his attempt to make a joke about Five’s odd sleeping habits, but Five continues to ignore him.
“Thank goodness we still have a few of these things hanging around, otherwise the rest of us wouldn’t be able to visit this lovely place,” he says as he lugs up one of Five’s time traveling briefcases, waving it in his face.
Five glares at him.
“Really, man,” Klaus continues. “Everyone was there tonight. It was all the usual banter you’d expect from such an amazing group of misfits, but it would have been so much better if you were there too. Things even got a little out of hand when Diego insisted on coming here to force you to eat what was left of their disgusting vegan goulash, but don’t worry, I put him in his place.”
“Sure, you did,” Five mumbles.
Taking a step closer Klaus asks, “How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
Klaus’s eyes follow his brother’s unbroken gaze to the monitor, just as you enter your apartment building, where you stop in front of the wall of mailboxes. Your hand comes up, bringing your key to your lock, but your eyes remain fixed on the mailbox above yours.
“That was your mailbox,” Klaus points out, like Five doesn’t already know that.
Five once stood right there by you in that entryway. He hadn’t thought anyone that wasn’t part of his family would ever have the balls to try to put him in his place, but you did, and by doing it, you opened a part of him that before that, he hadn’t been willing to let anyone touch.
After shoving your mail in the back pocket of your baggy jeans, just like the day you met, with your face obscured by your sweatshirt, you stomp up the stairs, your anger evident.
The screen hisses with static as Five adjusts your location until it shows you walking into your bedroom.
“Why don’t you just go there and talk to him? Maybe jump him in the shower or something. Sounds like something you kinky boys would both enjoy,” Klaus unhelpfully suggests.
“He’s not in the shower, you dumbass,” Five says, letting out an irritated sigh afterwards.
“He might be in a few minutes…”
“No.”
“Hey man, I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, but he remembers you,” Klaus insists, spinning Five’s chair around.
Swinging around, Five almost falls out of his chair. “What the fu-!"
“Five, I know you’re only trying to do what you think is right, but just look at him, something is wrong!”
Five does look, just as you pick up the stack of papers and news clippings from your bedside table. He doesn’t need to zoom in to see the one you are holding. It’s a famous image of him in his academy uniform, mask and all, standing like the smug little jerk he was while posing in line next to the rest of the superpowered Hargreeves children.
“There is no other explanation for why he is looking up all this stuff about you, and there’s other reason why he keeps coming by my old place,” Klaus furthers, “Why won’t you let me go talk to him? We were friends. He might remember me too.”
“Leave him alone!” Five snaps, but his bark has no bite, and his eyes can no longer hide how painful this is seeing you this way.
“Everyone is worried about you. We just want to help,” Klaus pleads.
“You can’t help me with THIS!” Hands shaking, Five jumps up, his voice breaking just a little as he says, “Klaus... I can’t.” He looks back over at the screen, right as you furiously toss a tiny collector figurine version of him across the room. “Just because I want to see something in this doesn’t mean it’s real,” Five whispers, looking anywhere but at his brother, or you.
“He maybe wasn’t supposed to remember, but I think he does. As we all know, there are a lot of things that make no sense in this world,” Klaus disagrees. “There is something going on with him. Can’t you see he’s falling apart?”
Jaw working anxiously, Five drops back down in front of his screens again, flipping them to what is clearly a random time and date, somewhere in the past with ladies in long billowing skirts and the men in fancy dress coats, escorting them down muddy streets filled with steaming piles of horse shit.
It’s over.
This is how it always goes.
Klaus remains silent as Five pulls out a notebook, pretending to be taking notes on whatever he is pretending to get out of watching things from the past when there is no longer a reason to monitor it for corrections.
Klaus knows that Five isn’t going to budge, but before he leaves, he says, “Five, I know you are only trying to do what you think is best for him, but what if it’s not best. It’s not too late to fix this part of what was broken too.”
Five’s pen slows as he looks up at his brother standing over by the door. He nods, trying to smile but Klaus can see it’s so hard for him to do it. “I promise I’ll be there next time. Tell Lila that I am sorry.”
“Tell her yourself,” Klaus shoots back, followed by a small chuckle, “She’s pissed. She worked for hours cutting up all those fancy organic carrots for you, so don’t be surprised if the next time you drop by, she chops something off that you find equally important as wanting us all to eat sustainably. And by important, I mean your wiener,” he unnecessarily clarifies.
The hint of a real smile fights to come out and wins this time as Five says, “Lila hates to cook, so I know she did not help make me dinner, and if she was going to chop off my dick, she would have done it by now.”
Klaus smiles too and shrugs. “Maybe… She was pretty mad at you though, so I guess you’ll have to come over to their place to find out if you are still besties. And hey, maybe think about bringing my friend along with you next time. Everyone is dying to meet him and see that adorable smiling face of yours. It’s not like we all don’t know how you like being perpetually grumpy, but seriously…you’re so much prettier when you smile.”
While Five is telling Klaus to fuck off, hoping he finally talked some sense into him, Klaus quickly rounds the corner, hoisting up his briefcase, his fingers punching in the correct date to go back to the present.
As soon as Klaus is gone, Five’s smile fades. He turns the dial, bringing up the footage of you also back in current time, right as you’re screaming into your pillow. “What the fuck is wrong with me!”
His heart breaks a little more.
Nothing is wrong with you. He is the problem, that is why he never should have done what he did.
He should have let you walk away, but he didn’t.
~~~
The invisible string, a connection that refuses to be ignored, tugs at your mind and it won’t stop.
You’re going crazy.
Like the miniature resin version Five you just sent flying, the pillow on your face joins it on the floor.
It makes no sense, but you can still feel the tickle of Five’s breath against your neck as you cuddled together on your couch, him contentedly holding you like he never wanted to let you go.
Your eyes remain focused on your motionless ceiling fan, but your brain refuses to come back to the present.
The pain inside your chest tightens.
You try to push it away, but it only gets worse the more you try to tell yourself to stop this.
This is insanity. You need help. That’s what people would say if you told them about the things going on inside your head.
From anything you can gather, Five’s family seem like they aren’t concerned about anything at all, but not that long ago you remember them being shown on every news channel, doing unimaginable things while defending themselves from the barrage of artillery being shot at them.
Five left you only hours before that, promising to be back, but he never came back.
Long after he said he’d be home, you watched in shock as the news blasted stories about him and other people associated with him that made no sense. They said they were aliens! They said they were superheroes from another dimension! They flashed images of Five’s much younger face alongside the other people he grew up with, including Klaus.
Then a war started in the streets.
Almost immediately, the news reporters had given up trying to maintain their façade of calm. The holiday lights beyond their lens twinkled eerily as the sound of explosions filled the air and rocked the ground.
People screamed and sirens blared, and not just on the TV. You could hear it coming from outside your windows.
As the collapsed news camera continued to stream live feed, out of nowhere, Five appeared in the frame, enveloped for a fraction of a second in a flash of violet hued light.
Your jaw nearly hit the floor. It couldn’t be real.
Five’s long coat tails flung like wings behind him as he grabbed ahold of the terrified girl whose picture you’d seen on the birthday invite Klaus had shown you. Five and the girl disappeared in another burst of light, just as bullets ripped through the metal garbage can she was hiding behind.
You smelled the smoke in the air when you ran outside. The earth shook, rattling your teeth as the echo of gunfire sent chills up your spine.
It all happened, only it didn’t. Nobody else remembers it.
Now, the Umbrella Academy is a thing of the past. The superpowered children that had once lived there are common knowledge, but they supposedly moved on with their lives long ago.
Klaus’s apartment isn’t his anymore, and the doors at the Umbrella Academy never open when you ring the bell.
The world in which you met is gone and the Five you knew is gone with it.
Five Hargreeves disappeared at the age of 13, never to be seen or heard from again.
Was any of it even real?
Again, you’re back to questioning your sanity.
“Fuck,” you curse, while raking your hand through your hair.
It’s been months. Three months and twenty-seven days to be exact since you first talked to Five, only then, you didn’t know that was his real name and not just a quirky nickname he preferred to go by.
He always had a nervous energy about him, and he always seemed distracted, so you usually paid no attention to him, but that day, something about the way he refused to acknowledge your presence set you off.
After he rudely stepped on your foot and pushed into you with his shoulder while reaching for his mailbox, you slammed your metal mailbox door closed, doing it much louder than needed.
You smiled with satisfaction when Five startled, even jumping a little.
He looked over at you with cartoon sized wide eyes.
Shaking your head, you’d said, “Not sure if you noticed, but you are not the only one trying to occupy this space. I exist too.”
Five’s eyes narrowed, the intensity of his glare slowly moving up and down as he took in your loose t-shirt and baggy jeans, comfortably paired with your favorite beat up low top sneakers.
You were sure the assessment he was making of you was not a good one. Especially when you consider that he was dressed impeccably as he always was, a long wool coat over a three-piece suit, with his hair a mess of chocolate brown strands, that though all over the place, only made him look even more unfairly attractive.
Compared to him, even though you stood over him by an inch or more, you suddenly felt like a tiny bug on the floor about to be obliterated under one of his shiny dress shoes. Your bodies outwardly didn’t look that much different, but you could tell that you were a little scrawny even when compared to his relative scrawniness. On top of that, he appeared to be close to the same age as you, but it was as if you were opposites, living in the same shitty apartment building, but he was somehow better than you.
You quickly concluded that he was a totally dickhead. Thinking about his stupid big black shoes, and then dicks as they related to shoe size, your mind started moving to certain ways that you were pretty sure you were different from him other than the fact that you weren’t an asshole.
You started to turn away, but before you did, you bitterly added, “I live here, by-the-way. We pass by each other almost daily. Not sure if you are aware of that?”
Ingrained manners getting the best of you, you extended a hand. Five looked at it like a foreign object.
He said nothing, so getting really mad, you casually as possible hooked a thumb under your waistline, while defiantly cocking your chin at him. “An I am sorry, or an excuse me, are just two options you could use to apologize when you just rudely rammed into someone, but it looks like you’re not going to do that since you lack even the most basic kindergarten level social skills.”
You tucked your mail in your back pocket and his eyes immediately moved down to your waist, openly checking out your striped boxers that were starting to show thanks to your pants sagging. Even more annoyed by this less than pleasant interaction, you started to walk away, quietly breathing out the word ‘jerk’ as you headed back towards the stairs.
“Wait!” he called out.
Surprised, you turned back to see the corner of Five’s mouth ticked up, the small movement hardly even noticeable if you hadn’t been suddenly hyper focused on the softness of his slightly parted lips.
“You aren’t wrong. Social graces aren’t where I excel,” he started. “I get lost inside my own head sometimes. I am sorry. Will you accept my apology, or is there something else I can do to make up for being so impolite? Wouldn’t want the neighbor boy thinking I’m a jerk.”
He extended his hand.
“You can call me Five, by-the-way.”
Fuck. He heard you, and what the hell, was he trying to be condescending? And Five?
What the hell kind of name is that?
You looked back over at the name on his mailbox, it wasn’t Five.
“Five is a family nickname,” he explained. The dimple in Five’s cheek grew deeper the longer you dumbfoundedly stared at him. He lifted a brow. “I may be a lot of things, but deep down, I swear I’m a gentleman. I really am sorry for violating your personal space, but I am not that sorry about it because it meant we got to do this.”
What was with this guy?
Rarely did guys his age act so…
Shit… Was he hitting on you?
Five’s smile was like a superpower all its own and it was rendering you speechless, making you temporarily unable to maintain the level of irritation you’d had before. Feeling your face getting hotter, you couldn’t figure out why his words or his expression looked and sounded so flirty, but they did.
Maybe he was just trying to be nice?
Trying to play it cool, you threw a hand back through your slightly less shaggy looking haircut, then replied, “Sure… Nice to meet you and the apology is good enough. Very big of you. Thanks.”
Five’s taunting smile remained, as if you shooting him down was exactly what he wanted.
“Oh,” he breathed, digging through his stack of mail before pulling out an envelope, “I believe this is yours?” He frowned as he looked down at the feminine sounding name and your apartment number that was printed under the clear cellophane address window. “Your roommate, or girlfriend’s, I’m assuming?”
You took the mail from him. “No. No roommate and no girlfriend, just me.”
You were sure that Five looked relieved to hear that, and your breath caught, and your heart kicked up accordingly.
Adding the envelope to your back pocket, you breathed in, then slowly let it out as you rocked back on your heels. “That’s…my dead name,” you clarified.
Five said nothing. He seemed confused as his eyes wandered from yours and he rubbed his chin, but then his eyes suddenly came up, meeting yours again just as it seemed a lightbulb went off inside his brain.
His handsome smile took your breath away as he said, “I never would have guessed, but then again, there is a slightly unhinged, 64-year-old man hiding inside my head, and I am sure you never would have guessed that either.”
You laughed. You never would have guessed he’d be so funny or cute, but he was full of all sorts of surprises.
“You know, nobody reads the news that way anymore, other than grumpy old men, but I guess that makes sense since you’re a retiree,” you teased, trying to keep this whatever it was going by fucking with him again.
Unfazed by you making fun of him, Five nodded. “True,” he agreed, “When it comes to reading real newspapers and my other geriatric ways, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty from time to time on these ink smudged pages,” he waved his paper at you, “-or in other more challenging ways that are much more enjoyable. With the lifetime of experience I have under my belt, I’m sure I could teach you a lesson or two on how to have a good time the old-fashioned way.”
Taking his rolled newspaper, Five slapped it into his opposite hand, making a spanking gesture, all the while never taking his eyes off you.
You rubbed your palms down the front of your jeans. “Wha-what kind of fun?” you stammered, your brain clicking off as blood rushed between your legs.
“The crossword puzzle,” he clarified, followed by a cocky little chuckle. “There’s much more to the newspaper than doom and gloom news stories. It’s all about the delayed gratification. Seeing all those empty squares filled in the only words that can solve the puzzle is a sight well worth the effort.”
“You’re talking about doing crossword puzzles from the newspaper?”
“What else would I be talking about?” he countered.
Holy shit, you wanted to deck him.
~~~
A few days went by, and you didn’t run into your charmingly arrogant neighbor again, not until you were coming home late and you walked into a neighborhood pub to grab some dinner. You looked over, and to your surprise, you saw the familiar profile of a dark-haired asshole sitting alone at the bar.
“You can’t be twenty-one,” you said, sliding in next to him.
Five’s lips pulled to the side as he gave you the most mischievous looking side eye you’d ever seen. “So, you’re stalking me now? If my coworkers at the CIA knew how easily you tracked me down, I’d be fired.”
You scoffed, “You wish,” meaning both to the stalking and him working for the CIA.
Smirking fully, as if acknowledging he did wish you were stalking him, Five self-assuredly tipped his glass your way before sending the rest of the amber colored liquid down his throat.
With his head tipped back, tie pulled loose, and the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone, try as you might, you couldn’t stop looking at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Really. How old are you?” you pushed, trying not to drool.
Five let out a cocky sounding laugh, his eyes a mossy calm as his gaze flicked down and up, drinking you in like he was a lion, sizing up its prey. “19 going on 64, give or take. Doesn’t matter because here, the drinks are strong, and the bartenders don’t care.”
“Right…” Shaking your head at him as you smiled, you flagged down a server.
Knowing what you wanted already, you ordered, but when you asked for it to-go, Five unexpectedly interrupted. “Make that for here, and for two, and put it on my tab, please.”
The bartender looked at you and you nodded that it was okay.
When you were alone again and Five realized you were still looking at him like he was nuts, he calmly said, “What? I thought we were friends now, and I owe you, remember?”
“I suppose that talking smack to each other for five minutes, one time, means we’re friends,” you pointed out, before adding, “And as long as you don’t try to plow into me again, you don’t owe me shit.”
Five shifted his weight, leaning closer, so only you could hear him since the seats on both sides of you had just been taken. “As a man that hasn’t come close to mastering traveling through time, both forwards or backwards, and can no longer do either anymore anyway, I can’t promise anything with it comes to my spatial awareness issues, but that’s a whole different problem of mine among the many. When it comes to sticking my landings and running into you accidentally or not, I tend to think you like the idea of me plowing into you again.”
Your mouth opened and closed a few times, like you were a brainless fish, nothing coming out, because what the hell do you say to that!
Five burst out laughing. “You are so easy to fuck with.”
“And you are a dick,” you duly noted.
“A dick that you’re apparently not opposed to eating dinner with, and hey, I’ll even buy you a drink too, but only if you’re a good boy and keep looking at me with that handsome little smirk of yours.”
Jesus… Did he just say that?
He did, and his patronizingly suggestive comments weren’t the only thing getting you worked up. You could smell the heady scent of his cologne every time you had to move closer to him to let someone else get up to the bar, and damn did he smell good.
“Confident much?” you cocked off.
Five shrugged. “Yes,” he said, matter of fact. “But the truth is, most of the time I am not great with people. I’ve spent most of my life alone, and I have only ever been with one other person intimately, and that relationship wasn’t what anyone would call normal, and abstaining from any sexual relationship since then is definitely not my penis’s first choice, it's more of an existential problem.”
“Oh, my God!” You burst out laughing.
Your second conversation with Five was starting no less shocking and confusing than the first, and like the time before, you were loving it.
For the next few hours, you sat there with him, getting to know each other, having several more drinks that went down with plenty of laughs and hardly concealed innuendoes that proved over and over that what was going on between you was much more than just friendly chatter.
With his dark strands of hair dangling in his eyes and his perfectly tailored three-piece suit, Five looked hot as hell, and because of that, he was getting checked out constantly the entire time, but he never seemed to notice, and that was because his eyes were always on you.
You didn’t even think about leaving until the band that had been setting up since you got there started to play, and it got way too loud to hold a conversation. As you offered to pay again, Five refused. Then, having already had his foot resting on the rung of your barstool, he abruptly spun you around to face him more directly, giving you an innocent looking smile as he let the tip of his shoe glide up your ankle.
“I’m not ready to let you go yet,” he said, his voice low.
“You’re not?” you sputtered, trying not to spray the liquid you’d just tried to swallow all over him.
“This has been nice,” he said, velvety soft as he moved closer “Thank you for keeping me company.”
“That’s not all I want to do,” you found yourself saying back, your lips brushing his cheek as your hand lowered to his knee, your palm running along the smooth wool fabric, stopping mid-thigh.
Five’s leg tensed. For the first time since you got there, he was tongue tied.
He suddenly moved back, and you instantly removed your hand. You were sure you’d just freaked him out, but then he quickly said, “Maybe we should move?”
Not a second later, you were both making your way through the mob of people, all the way to the edge of the dance floor in front of the stage.
Five seemed so at ease in the crowd, even having fun listening to the live music. He was not at all who you thought he was, and just looking at him next to you made it feel like you had a swarm of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.
With eyes glossed over, standing as close as you were, the music wasn’t the only thing Five seemed to be enjoying. Taking full advantage of there being no room to move, every now and then, his hand would brush against the side of your thigh, staying there a little longer than necessary. Then, after both of you were getting repeatedly shoved around in the crowd of inebriated people, Five strategically placed himself behind you, as he was trying to protect you.
With him standing behind you, your body got even warmer, and you smiled to yourself, remembering how Five had claimed to be such a gentleman. Whether he did it to be gentlemanly or not, Five seemed all too happy to have a reason to press up against your backside, because now he had an even better reason to place his face next to yours, humming in your ear as he said absurd things to make you laugh.
You weren’t so much dancing together as the people around you were trying to do, but that didn’t mean Five wasn’t intentionally or unintentionally moving himself against you to the rhythm of the music. Trying to figure out which one it was, you reached back taking him his belt, tugging him flush as you dropped your head back and arched your back into him.
Five let out a pained sounding whimper as his hard-on poked the back of your leg and almost just as fast, the tip of his nose brushed your neck as the warmth of his breath caressed your skin. “I’m sorry, but fuck, you’re making me hard,” he whispered before you felt his lips gently kiss your already tingling skin.
He had no reason to be sorry.
Turning around, you slipped your hand around his, assertively leading him through the crowd. You weren’t even off the main floor, a few feet down a side hall near the bathrooms, when Five was on you, taking your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss. He was so excited, his lips actually trembled as they pressed against yours, a low moan coming from deep inside his chest when you eagerly reciprocated.
It had to be a whole minute later before he let you up for air, gazing at you with darkened eyes as he smiled. "I really like you.”
Sliding your other hand around his neck, you grabbed at the soft tangle of hair brushing the crisp edge of his shirt collar, tugging it sharply. "You’re going to like me even more in a second,” you shot back, while moving your other hand lower.
Five let out the cutest sound as you started fondling him while also giving his mane another tug, but it must not have been all that upsetting that you were manhandling him because as you tightened your grip in his hair, his hips reactively bucked into yours.
Five’s hard cock pressed up against the crotch of your jeans as he ground himself against you, his hands hungrily groping your ass, pulling you back and forth over his dick.
"Fffiv-vvve," you panted into his frantic kiss.
He smiled against your lips and kept on kissing.
You trailed a hand up his inner thigh, cupping his erection through his clothing as your mouths parted wider. The heat of his tongue entered you, engaging you in a sloppy kiss that ended with biting and tugging at your bottom lip before he said, “You have no idea how bad I wanted this.”
Five let out a shaky sigh as he glanced over at the man carrying several cases of liquor, trudging by, heading towards one of the bars' storage rooms.
You were a little taken aback by how vulnerable he looked, his face flushed, and his lips wet and full from kissing you. You stayed silent for a few seconds, just looking at him.
You weren’t sure if he was going to stop. Something seemed off, only you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not that you were trying that hard. Your fingers were still busy doing something else.
Before you got too worried that he’d changed his mind, Five started kissing again, your oversized sweatshirt hood falling over your heads.
Going at it hard, with his hands latched on your ass, Five dry humped you into the wall, not even stopping when the door across from you flung open. Coming to your senses only slightly, you shoved Five backwards, forcing him into the men’s room.
Your adrenaline was pumping hard, and your heart was racing as the door closed behind you.
Five came at you again. Your hands went around him as he grabbed a handful of your ass, nearly lifting you off the floor. He pinned you to the wall again, his cock slamming between your legs.
His hands ran down your sides, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he kissed and sucked your collarbone, trailing teeth and kisses gently up your neck.
Breathing heavily as you momentarily broke apart, Five anxiously said, “You need to tell me to stop if this is too much, okay?”
You didn’t reply verbally, instead you kept kissing him. Five groaned into the kiss and pushed your crotches together with more determination.
Miraculously for as busy as the bar was, the bathroom was empty, but it wouldn’t be for long. Not even breaking apart, you walked Five backwards again, moving him inside the largest bathroom stall. Thankfully it didn’t appear that dirty, but again, you weren’t really looking.
You kicked the door closed, hand only leaving Five long enough to twist the lock. Lips coming off your neck, Five’s eyes trailed up and down your taller frame. He reached out as you cornered him, brushing some of your hair away from your ear while his other hand snuck between your legs and squeezed your crotch. Looking pleased with himself and what he was feeling, he tilted his head to kiss your neck while he rubbed his hand over your clothed sex repeatedly.
In return, you moved your hand over his dick again, unzipping and then tugging his pants down. His cock sprung forward with no underwear to prevent it from happening.
Naturally you both looked down, and wow did Five look proud as your eyes went wide.
“Impressed?” he asked.
“Hardly.”
He was clearly not buying that lie because fuck…
With no further ado, you lowered to your knees, and he watched you do it as if transfixed. Your hand wrapped around his ankle, then trailed up a bit further, before you stopped under his knee, rubbing lightly.
Five reactively opened his legs a little, and so did you in a futile effort to ease the slight feeling of friction you were experiencing against your briefs.
You were buzzed and horny, and this was nuts, but fuck it. This was happening!
Five’s cock was already leaking. You licked your lips and positioned yourself. With the hand not already holding him, you reached out and gave his long cock a tentative pump, spreading the precum around with your thumb. He pulled back a little.
“You okay, big shot?” you teased.
A smile crept onto Five’s face, but his voice came out so broken it caught you off guard. “You don’t have to do this.”
Okay… Maybe he was nervous, that was fair, especially if all his arrogance was just a show and what he said about being inexperienced was true, but considering how he had just been all over you, and now you were on your knees in a bathroom stall with his dick in your face, you looked up at him in disbelief as you said, “I know I don’t have to do this. I want to. Now stop being so damn frustrating and let me suck your dick!”
It was as if something in him snapped, the darkness in Five’s eyes smoldered as he purred, "Just remember, pretty boy, you asked for it. I am going to fuck your face so hard you’ll think twice before smarting off to daddy again.”
Holy fuck that was fucked but it only made you wetter.
Just then, someone walked in, going straight to the urinals. Your heads both flung that way. If they looked behind them, they for sure would see Five’s shoes lined up against your knees. There was no question what was happening, and even more turned on by that, you started stroking Five gently as you could while playfully sticking out your tongue to lick up the glistening fluid running down his shaft.
Falling back against the partition between the stalls, Five’s head made a hilariously loud thunking sound.
You kept at it, kissing the slit of his rounded tip, working it in a circular pattern. Five let out the quietest hum of approval as his fingers at his sides clenched and unclenched repeatedly.
You kept toying with him, enjoying how he was struggling to stay quiet, but only until the door closed and you were alone again, then he brought his hand to your cheek.
You looked up as his hand moved into your hair. “You look so good with your mouth on my cock.”
To that, the throbbing between your legs had you tensing your thighs to increase the sensation but it wasn’t enough and you let out a moan of complaint over it that made the darkness in Five’s eyes look all the more wicked with delight.
You put his whole tip in your mouth, opening and closing your kiss reddened lips around it, grazing it just barely with your teeth. From above, Five let out a moan as his hand in your hair moved, brushing your fringe of hair out of your face.
He couldn’t take his eyes off you and God did you love it.
He was letting out breathy sighs and grunts as you serviced them, his free hand pushing back through his hair the more agitated he got.
Wanting to send him over the edge, with the hand you were holding him with, slowly pumping him at just the tip, you leaned in even more, letting the musky scent of him fill your senses as your tongue ran along his balls. You were rewarded for that with a deep groan and an unsteady hand coming to the top of your shoulder.
That was all the praise you needed.
“Fuck yeah,” Five hissed, then he bit down on his lower lip, as you took him in your mouth, moving over him just little deeper and faster.
Almost right away, Five started rocking his hips in strained, shallow nudges. Each time he entered you and hit the back of your throat, he’d break apart a little more, and you swore you’d never seen anything so beautiful in your life.
Petting you, and making your hair all sorts of fucked up, Five encouragingly murmured “You are so fucking good at this. Fuck- Ohh-ffffff-you’re amazing,” he gasped.
Even though it was happening, you could hardly believe you were seeing this normally composed man turning into such a stuttering, red-faced mess.
Tipping your head back and opening your throat to him, the thick head of Five’s cock moved inside with ease, fucking you deep and hard enough in quick but controlled thrusts that it took away your ability to breathe.
Your eyes instantly began to water.
“Fu-ck-ye-ah-take-my-dick,” Five stammered as he wildly fucked into you.
The door opened again, the music getting louder for a moment before it shut again. This time there were several guys in there, but between the sound of them pissing, and their talking, and the thrum of the bass coming from outside, it still wasn’t enough to hide Five’s sharply cut off breaths and curses.
They knew, but the way Five’s eyes kept drooping closed proved his brain was no longer running the show and he didn’t care.
His fingers gripped tighter, yanking at your hair. You took the abuse, gagging on him until Five suddenly clasped his hands on the sides of your face, stopping you. “I’m gonna-cum,” he quietly cried.
He had a panicked look in his eyes. His teeth were clenched, and it was clear he was trying so hard not to orgasm, but it was coming one way or another, even with the guys outside your stall snickering and making lewd comments.
“Fuck yeah you are, and you’re going to do it my mouth,” you commanded, right before sucking him raw again, taking him all the way to the hilt.
Losing all self control, Five started railing your face again.
You couldn’t breathe at all, and were choking on your own spit. Your fingers dug into his thighs as your body instinctively fought back, but Five held the back of your head tight, forcing you down on him over and over.
Then, while violently scrambling your brains with his throbbing cock, hot spurts of Five’s seed started shooting down your throat. His hips jerked uncontrollably as he dug his heels into the floor. He fell back against the wall again. The waves of his shuddering release came out in a cadence of grunted curses as he moved himself in and out of your gaping mouth, moving slower and slower with each thrust until he was spent.
Having dumped his load, he started to slide out. Getting oxygen again, your blurred eyes took in the sight above you as you gave his well worked shaft a few more loving licks and twirls of your tongue. Sure that you just blew his mind, you popped your mouth off and smirked.
Five’s doe eyes were only slightly open and the dreamy way he was looking down at you was priceless.
~~~
Five was temporarily out of commission but you were both still horny as fuck as you burst out in the cool night air onto the sidewalk. Both riding the high, you fully intended to take your fun back to one of your apartments. As worked up as you were, coming out of that bathroom, hand-in-hand, quickly cutting through the crowded bar, your discussion hadn’t gone much past both of you smiling like idiots, but you knew the night wasn’t over, that was until you saw Klaus.
“Five?” he questioned, sounding totally shocked to see him as he approached from the opposite direction with his colorful meditation robe bundled around him.
Five slowed to a stop, back peddling a little. You looked from him to your friend, as his hand slipped from yours.
“Hey there, little brother,” Klaus said, “Would have never thought I’d see you out this late. What’s this?” He pointed at you with one of his latex covered gloves, the motion exposing his usual weird bubble wrap inner padding system that he liked to keep secured around him, so as he put it, he didn’t die while accidentally getting run over. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other,” Klaus added as he waved the hand holding his Styrofoam cup between the two of you.
It was subtle, but Five moved away from you a little more as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying even harder to hide that he’d been touching you.
Looking very uncomfortable, Five cleared his throat. “Well, Klaus, what with the nature of my employment, I am known to leave my apartment from time to time, and it’s not like I see you that often, so you wouldn’t know that. I also wasn’t aware that I needed to keep you updated with who my acquaintances are.”
Five looked at you for the briefest of moments, no indication of the sweet guy he had been in his now hardened eyes.
“We live in the same building,” Five irritatedly furthered, as he looked at Klaus again. “Happened to run into each other a bit ago while picking up dinner, so yeah… That’s it.”
“You guys going anywhere else fun? I’d love to join you, catch-up on life before the big family reunion b-day party next weekend.” Klaus held up his drink again. “This tea is amazing. I got it at a place about a block down. I’ll buy you guys one,” he pushed as you silently tried not to let it show how confused you were.
You’d met Klaus over a year before while at a park. He was there alone, sitting under a shady tree, legs crossed, eyes closed while positioned in namaste, when one of your friends threw a frisbee that glided over and clocked him in the side of the head, which was the only part of him not covered with protection from germs or flying projectiles.
Running over to apologize, from that point on, you’d been friends with the slightly odd, but always interesting spiritualist. The fact that Klaus was Five’s older brother, one of the other six orphans he’d told you he’d grown up with, was as crazy and unsettling as the way Five was acting all of a sudden.
As if you weren’t already feeling like shit, then Five said, “No thanks. I’ll have to pass on the tea. I have work to do at the office. I’ll see you around.”
“You still doing cool secret government stuff?” Klaus questioned, but Five didn’t answer him, or specify if he meant he’d see you around, or just his brother, then he strode off, his breath a plume of white in the night air as he quickly rounded the corner like he couldn’t get away quick enough.
~~~
The work week came and went, and you didn’t run into Five again, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t thought about him about a million times.
Of course, you asked Klaus about him, and he asked you about you and Five. Klaus said that his brother was super secretive. He said that he thought Five worked for the government in some capacity, but really, he wasn’t sure, but you were pretty sure that was a lie.
Klaus said Five was a loner and that he didn’t get out socially that much, so he was floored when he saw him laughing and smiling, walking down the street with you, and that part you figured was true.
When Klaus pressed you about Five, you could tell that he knew you were lying when you went along with Five’s story, by not giving him anything new, other than you’d eaten dinner with him since you both happened to be sitting at the same bar.
You said you were being neighborly. That was it.
You both weren’t telling the whole truth, and you both knew it.
As much as you wanted to tell someone how mad you were about what Five had done, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be his older brother. The way Five played you was dirty, but you weren’t the type to start shit.
Five was a prick. End of story.
You didn’t know if he was ashamed of people knowing about him being with you, or it was just his family knowing about it, or if he just used you to get off and that’s all it ever was.
It didn’t matter.
You felt so stupid because you had felt like you had something real with him, something that was maybe a bit too much based on an intense sexual attraction and a shared craving to one up the other with cocky remarks and flirty jokes, but there was also something else. When you were with Five, it felt like you were all that he could see. And even more important, he saw you how you wanted to be seen.
You wanted to get lost in him and the feeling seemed to be mutual, but you were wrong.
What Five did hurt. There was no other way to put it.
When you came and went from your place, a part of you wanted to run into him, and another part of you never wanted to see him again. Some days when you couldn’t stop thinking about that asshole’s smile and those dark lashes of his fanning his pale cheeks, you contemplated going up a floor to kick his door in, to either jump his bones or kick him in the nuts, maybe both.
You didn’t.
It had been a long day, and the last thing you wanted was to go out. You were planning on having over a group of guys to watch a horror movie marathon. It was going to be a mixed group, old friends and Klaus.
Klaus always seemed lonely, too obsessed with keeping himself from getting sick or avoiding quicker, more gruesome forms of death, so you weren’t about to leave him out. He needed to get outside of his head and so did you. Klaus was someone that needed a friend and you were happy to bring him into your fold, even if he often remained quiet, or nervously excitable. He could be so hot and cold, and so detached, and something about that reminded you of Five.
They were brothers, so…
No.
No, you were not going there.
Fuck Five.
You dropped some bags of chips and other junk food on the table in front of the couch, busying yourself with getting things ready for your guests, rather than wasting your time thinking about Five.
Life goes on, your friends showed up and as usual, Klaus was late, but when he knocked on your door with his brother in tow, you naturally did a double take because you were so floored.
“Mind if I join you?” Five sheepishly asked while handing you a bottle of very expensive looking Scotch, the same brand he kept buying you at the bar.
There you were, wearing your favorite sweats and frumpy faded t-shirt, and there he was, looking amazing as always in his slim fit white dress shirt and usual black slacks, but gone was the self-assured guy who strutted into your life and then stomped on your dick.
He looked so nervous and unlike himself that all you could bring yourself to do was take the bottle as you nodded your head, stepping aside to let them in.
Klaus came waltzing in, minus his usual bubble wrap bumper vest, which you assumed he left at Five’s apartment before coming down to yours. He instantly took his place on your recliner since you’d abandoned it.
“Since, my dearest little brother lives in your building and you two are friends, I figured I’d stop by and see if he wanted to join us,” he explained, clearly aware that you weren’t thrilled. “With how chummy you two looked the other night, I was surprised that you hadn’t already plucked Five out of his boring man cave,” he added while wagging his eyebrows at you.
“Funny, when inviting my friends over, thinking anything about Five and our chumminess totally slipped my mind,” you muttered, as you glared at the jerk you did not want there who was still expectantly staring at you.
The asshole was standing there on your door mat, looking about as clueless as ever, so you waved him on. “Don’t just stand there. Come on in. Join the party. We’re about thirty minutes into the first ‘Scream’ movie.”
“Are you sure this is, okay?” Five quietly asked, clearly not wanting anyone else to hear as you shut the door behind him.
“Why wouldn’t it be,” you shot back, the anger in your voice impossible to hide.
“It’s not what you think. I am sorry,” he tried.
“Whatever,” you snapped. “Hey, Klaus!” He looked up with his mouth full of popcorn. “Introduce your brother, please.”
After dismissing him, with no other choice Five walked out to meet your friends.
Entering your kitchen, you got down some tumblers to pour everyone a glass of Five’s ‘you sucked my dick and then I rejected you,’ peace offering or whatever the fuck it was supposed to be.
“Gentleman, my ass,” you breathed before coming out to the living room with your hands full of the sloshing liquid.
Of course, there was nowhere to sit but next to him on your L-shaped couch. Five was at the hooked end, doing his best to look somewhat comfortable.
Like before they came, mostly everyone ignored the addition to the party as they zoned out, watching the movie, making comments here and there. As it was before, everyone was just chilling, lounged out on your furniture. Deputy Duey was being a dipshit that you couldn’t help but love, and terrified girls with big tits, and stupid horny guys ran for their life, screaming as the ghost-faced killer sliced and diced them.
It would have been great, exactly what you needed, but Five’s presence was making it anything but relaxing for you. He was so close; you could feel the heat of his leg next to yours as the silent tension between you grew. The way he was bouncing his knee made it clear he wasn’t feeling very comfortable either, but fuck him.
Nearing the end, when the masks came off, Five’s agitation had gotten noticeably worse. He could hardly hold still. You could tell he wasn’t okay. His hand laying against his leg was shaking. Not even thinking, you reached over, placing yours over it.
His breath hitched as he looked at you. “Excuse me,” he whispered, abruptly pushing himself up off the couch.
As he passed, Klaus gave his brother a worried glance, but you told him to stay put as you got up to follow Five.
Coming around the partition dividing your small living space, you saw that Five had himself leaned back against your kitchen counter, head down, pinching his forehead between two fingers.
“Not enjoying the movie?” you sarcastically asked.
Five pulled in a long breath AS he looked up at you. “I am afraid that as an ex-assassin, there is something about these tragically misguided young men happily stalking their prey before slicing them apart with blunt objects that hits a little too close to home.”
You blinked rapidly. “You’re kidding?”
His lip quirked up. “Not entirely.”
“Ah-huh,” you breathed before taking a long pull of your drink while glancing around the corner at the TV in the other room.
“At least part of the motivation for these two bonehead murderers being their secret love affair made this otherwise less than thrilling teen slasher film less boring,” Five furthered, seemingly a little less upset, almost playful as he smiled a little more when you looked at him again.
“What! NO! I love this movie,” you argued, forgetting that you hated him, even playing up how offended you were by his comment over your favorite scary movie. “And hell yes, them being mad as fuck for each other makes this better,” you agreed, followed by a laugh.
Five’s smile fell. “I wish I hadn’t done what I did the other night.”
“Then why did you?”
He ran his hand back, pushing his hair out his eyes, but it fell right back. “Because, when it comes to my family, it’s complicated, and not even factoring them into my life, I don’t know how to be with anyone, and I don’t know if I should be with anyone with the way I am anyway.”
“I don’t get it. If you’re ashamed-"
“It’s not that,” he interrupted, then he raised his voice. “I don’t care if the entire world knows how I feel about you!”
Klaus had been talking, but hearing that, the other room got very quiet.
“You are the first person I want to open myself to like this, or who has ever made me feel this way,” Five said, coming to you, his hands finding yours at your sides as he leaned into you. “I still want this more than anything, I just messed up because I am messed up.”
Coming closer, his lips touched yours so softly for just a fraction of a second. His eyes like gems, implored you-asking forgiveness.
“Since the other night, other than hating myself, I have wanted nothing more than to see your smile again,” he whispered, “even though what I did made it seem like I don’t care about you, that is about the farthest thing from the truth. Will you give me a second chance to show you how much you mean to me?”
You were pretty sure you couldn’t have made your lips form the word no, no matter how hard you tried.
“Are you sure you’re not embarrassed about this?” you questioned, your fingers making soothing circles along the undersides of his wrists.
Five smiled again. “I’m sure.”
“Prove it.”
“You forgive me then?”
“I’m working on it, but you have a lot of making up to do.”
Five’s hand moved around to your lower back, sliding up the back of your shirt, pulling you closer. You nudged his nose with yours.
“Like I said, prove it,” you softly repeated, daring him to show you that he meant what he said about not caring if his family or anyone else knew.
Five glanced over your shoulder, as if he could see your guests even though there was a wall in the way. His hand moved along your hip, slipping below the waistband of your sweatpants. “What do you have in mind for how I can prove it to you, handsome?”
He plucked the knot in your drawstring free, pulling the bunched cotton at your waist, loosening it so his hand could slip inside your pants.
“This, maybe?” he hummed against your ear, his fingers just under the elastic of your briefs.
You looked back at him with pleading eyes.
“Your bedroom is right over there but you want it right here, don’t you dirty boy?” he taunted.
There was no time for a comeback, only a shuttered breath before Five’s hand dove lower and you gasped at the sudden feeling of his finger abruptly entering you.
A devilish smile lit up Five’s face. “Awww… Wet for me already? Such a good boy,” he chuckled as his finger began to move, lovingly stroking the lubrication upwards.
You lowered your head against his neck, your body already tightening with pleasure from the feel of his finger rubbing against your clit.
Five kissed your forehead as you clung to him, his words tickling the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Wanna give our audience a show? You were amazing the other night, but I’m sure if we both try really hard, we can do better this time.”
You whimpered, trying to put your thighs together so you could increase the friction. Five brought another finger into the game trailing his digits up and down before flicking them against you, making you let out a small moan.
A shout came from the other room. “Hey! While you guys are in there, you should make some more popcorn!”
Twisting just enough, you snatched a bag of microwave pop off the counter, furiously tearing into the plastic with your teeth before spitting it out. You reached back, yanking the microwave open, carelessly tossing it in there without looking.
After you slammed the door shut, while smiling at you looking so fucking cocky, Five helpfully reached up, punching in the popcorn button before he hit start. He raised a brow. “Looks like I better get to work. We have a countdown, sweetheart.”
Moving his fingers quickly, jerking you hard, you let out a low groan that got much higher pitched when you felt the warmth of his erection nudging your hip.
Riding Five’s glorious fingers, but thinking of him slowly entering you with his heavy cock instead had your eyes rolling back in your head. The agonizing pace he was setting making your moans of complaint louder.
“That’s it, baby, louder,” he encouraged, gazing at you with half lidded eyes that were so beautiful.
“I need more,” you hissed, gritting your teeth.
“So needy,” he teased, just before his finger dipped inside you again, only this time crooked up just a little before he pulled it out again.
Then, just as you thought the bastard was going to really start finger fucking you, he slipped his hand out of your pants leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. After your waistband snapped against your tensed abs, Five brought his slicked finger to his mouth, making a naughty show of sucking it clean.
“I fucking hate you!” you growled.
If he tried to leave you with blue balls again, you were going to kill him!
Five gave you a sly grin and you frowned. “I’m going to make you take that back,” he menacingly sang, then suddenly your pants and underwear were tugged down, and your legs were forcefully spread open by his knees wedging yours wide.
His hands come up your sides, moving under your shirt, over your rib cage. His eyes looked into yours, watching you for signs of distress as his fingers moved up, traveling over the flattened planes of your pecs.
You closed your eyes and you felt Five rest his forehead against yours.
His hand smoothed down to your hips again, stopping.
You took a deep breath.
“You are the most handsome man I have ever seen,” he breathed, throwing you off even more.
To say your senses were heightened was an understatement. Every sound your friends made in the other room only added to the tension brewing. All they had to do was come around the corner and they could see you back up against your counter with Five dominatingly standing between your legs as your pants and underwear lay in a heap at your ankles.
Five moved his forehead away from yours. “I will stop if you want me to. If not, you know what to say,” he soothed. “You want me to suck you off, right here. Right now. With them listening.”
Little explosions started to go off inside the microwave.
You had never been so hot and bothered in your life. You moaned desperately, “Five, you fucking-!"
"Shh...” Five teased as his hand moved up over your mouth to silence you. "Can’t have you getting too loud. Don’t want anyone thinking I’m in here doing awful things to you.” He leaned in, his breath ruffling the short ends of your hair, his words ominously intimidating. “I want to hear you beg.”
“Please,” you whimpered under his hot fingers.
"Sorry, what was that?" Five asked, sweet as honey while moving his hand a little so you could say it louder.
“Please!”
“That’s it.” Five’s sinful looking grin spread across his entire face.
He got down on his knees. Not taking his eyes off you, he pushed up your t-shirt just a little so he could leave a trail of wet kisses along the fine trail of hair leading from your belly button downward.
He let out a heavy breath, hovering over your sex. “You’re perfect, you know that, right?” he said, then his tongue drug along your length before flicking against the tip of your swollen clit.
“Oh, FUCK,” you loudly cursed.
You tried to relax and keep your hips still as Five licked at you slowly, but with the way his tongue was pushing between your thickened folds it was impossible
A bitten whimper croaked out of you as he licked up a stripe while slowly palming his own dick. You lowered to your head, your fingers threading through his hair, tightening.
You gasped when Five began sucking you. His hum of approval and the sting of pleasure from his teeth accidentally dragging as he sucked a little too roughly, left your thighs shaking and the next thing you knew, you were grinding down on him trying to get more.
Undeterred, by you humping his face, Five continued to contentedly lap at you. At this point, you didn’t know what to focus on, the pleasure that was tearing through your veins, the screams coming for movie, the people who could come in the kitchen at any second, or the fact that there was no way Five was able to breathe correctly with the way he was going at it, his whole face buried between your legs, fucking you.
Everything clouded over. His hands were plastered to your thighs, his hair was sticking out in a million places, and his tongue kept probing inside your entrance, devouring you before he came back up to harshly flick at your clit again.
Your body fought against the invasive sensation. Vulgar noises were being forced out of you, but you couldn’t cum no matter how badly you wanted to.
The microwave beeped.
“I-I fff-fu-ah-ck,” you stammered as you tugged at Five’s dark waves, attempting to separate your throbbing sex from his mouth, but he wasn’t having any of that.
He grasped your waist, holding you in place, hungrily demolishing you. He was like an animal, the scratchiness of his very light stubble only adding to the brutality of what he was doing to you.
It felt like every nerve in your body was being touched at once. You were being torn apart more and more with each trail of his tongue and rub of his fingers, pinching and pulling you between forefinger and thumb as he sucked your clit like a dick.
As your orgasm hit, it felt electric, a flash after flash of hot white light.
Five made you cum so hard that you totally forgot that he was fisting his own cock, but he sure was, and he was loudly moaning while doing it and still sucking you with the most tender of kisses, making sure not to leave you until you’d ridden out all your crashing waves of pleasure.
When he finally came up for air, his face from his eyes down was shining and his smug grin proved that he could have cared less that he was a mess.
“So, did you enjoy cumming on my face?” he rhetorically questioned.
He lifted himself off the ground, staring at you as he leaned in, connecting your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue.
“I am not sure. It was okay, I guess,” you said, smirking when he pulled away, wiping his face and then yours with the sleeve of his shirt.
“Maybe one more try, with a little more tongue and teeth this time and you’ll have a more definitive answer?” he suggested.
He started to drop back down, and even though your body felt like jello, you pulled him back up easily enough.
As you were reaching to pick up your pants, Five took advantage of you dropping your guard to quickly spin you around, your socked feet slipping on the floor before he aggressively pulled your hips out, making you present your ass to him.
You heard him hastily unhooking his belt, the metal clanking together before you heard his zipper coming down, then his body molded to your backside, the tip of his thick cock dangling between your legs.
“We aren’t done and I’m not stopping until they know you’re mine,” he said while lovingly massaging the side of your ass.
He started nudging himself against your inner thigh and you let out a little whimper. “So cute, just like your little dick,” he mocked. Then he moved his hand around you, tugging you out a little more from the counter so he could grope you, making you shudder.
He slapped your ass hard, the thwack sure to make everyone’s head in the other room spin in your direction. You jolted up. You heard your friends laughing, then Five spanked you again. "Fuck!” you cried, moving your ass against his cock even tighter.
“You really want it, don’t you baby,” Five growled in your ear, slapping your ass again.
“Please!" you begged with your head falling back against Five’s shoulder before rolling to the side so you could see him.
“You want danger?” he purred as he yanked up his shirt, letting his predatory eyes narrow at the sight of his cock wedged between your cheeks.
You said nothing, so, looking like a mad man, he reached up, taking hold of your neck.
You whined and squirmed in his grasp as his other hand cupped you bare. He slid his fingers inside as his thumb swirled over your slippery clit. Before you could make a sound, he started to choke you.
He fingered your hole roughly, as he cut off the flow of oxygen to your brain. You couldn’t even think. You were drowning with desire, your body submitting.
Five started to rut his hips into you as you lost your mind, moaning into the palm of his hand.
That’s when Klaus called out. “How’s that popcorn coming, boys? Better not be any dick in it!”
As Five fucked into you and his second finger slide inside, you all but screamed through his fingers. “Mmmfff-fuck, Ff-ive!”
If Five hadn’t thought to muzzle you, you were being so loud, it wouldn’t just be the people in the living room aware of what he was doing to you.
As if that wasn’t enough, Five bit down on your shoulder through your shirt, thrusting as hard and as fast as he could go.
You felt your orgasm building all the way from your toes to your stomach. Your calves painfully flexed as you bucked your hips, trying to get more.
Five let out a moan of his own, and the pleasure of his fingers, the dizziness of being choked, along with the pain from his teeth marking had you clenching around his fingers.
The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the sounds of squelching, your moans, and Five’s sexy grunting.
Yanking your face back, he took his hand off your mouth, forcing his tongue onto yours, aiming to take you for all you were worth.
Your walls contracted around him, spilling fresh liquid pleasure with his every thrust.
His breath and his movements started getting more erratic, and he let out a few manic sounding noises.
He only stopped slipping his dick up and down your crack for a second to reposition himself. Apparently, the new angle was even better for him because when he started back up, his fingers in you started to move again too and that got you cursing and gasping into his hand again.
"Good boy. Let it out. Your pussy is mine now,” he growled, but he didn’t let you let it out as he clamped down on your mouth harder and slammed into you with all the energy he had.
You peaked again, him clinging to you, your stifled gasps hissing through his fingers.
“So perfect,” he breathed, then he let you free, the air filling your lungs doing nothing to clear your clouded mind and you helplessly slumped over.
One of his hands kept a tight hold on your hip, the other taking care of his own need. The sight of you bent over on the counter in front of him had Five grunting and growling as he stroked himself, his cum splattering all over your abused ass.
When Five was done, he crashed into you, pulling you up in a lovers embrace from behind, panting harder than he had been the entire time. The second he had enough air to speak, he did. “That was- Fuck."
You were out of it, legs shaking, mouth agape, head lolling to the side. He grabbed your face and languidly kissed you before breaking away, his lips moving along your sweat moistened neck as he said, “I want you and only you and I don’t care who knows. Don’t you ever question that again.”
“Ready or not, the men out here are demanding a proof of life check after that beautiful screaming performance, and we need more sustenance, so pull your pants up! I am coming in,” Klaus suddenly shouted.
Scrambling, you and Five both untangled yourselves. He snatched your hand towel off the counter, taking it to your butt cheeks, doing his best to wipe you first, then himself.
Dropping to the floor, he started pulling your sweatpants up, then sure you had them in hand, Five started trying to fix his own rumpled clothing.
“Is my little brother behaving himself?” Klaus questioned and by the way he said it, you could tell he had a huge smile even before he rounded the corner, eyeing you both up proudly.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Five fired back, with his pants only just zipped up, the ends of his belt hanging in front of the prominent tent he was still sporting.
“Oh, I don’t know… Sounded like you were getting a little frisky in here is all,” Klaus replied.
Five reached over, opening the microwave, throwing the bag of popcorn at his brother.
As one would expect, Klaus started tossing the bag, hand to hand. “Ouch! Hot! Hot!”
You couldn’t help but laugh. That’s how mind blowingly dazed you were. You could tell it took a great deal of effort for Five to pry himself from you and you were still having a hard time standing up straight, so you had no idea how he was composing himself so well but then again, he didn’t just cum three times.
“If only I could blink us out of here,” he muttered while sticking the prong of his belt through the length, tightening it as he looked at you fumbling the strings on your sweatpants.
“Blink?” you questioned, unable to stop laughing as you said it because for the life of you, you couldn’t perform the simple task of tying a knot.
“What my adorable brother is referring to,” Klaus said, “is a thing we used to call a thing he used to do.” He reached out, ruffling Five’s already fucked up hair. “He’s super fast, but you already knew that,” he said while winking at you, “He used to be able to blink or as the common man says, telapor-"
“If you don’t shut your yapper, I am going to shut it for you,” Five snapped, while reaching over to tie your pants up since you’d failed and they were already slipping down.
“Oh… Not going there yet. Okay,” Klaus said as he shrugged off whatever Five was angrily trying to get him to shut up about. “You two joining us for the second movie?” Klaus mumbled with a handful of freshly popped kernels in his mouth.
You looked at Five. He took you by the hand, grabbing the bottle of liquor off the counter in his other, leading you out there.
Moving to your spot on the couch, Five sat down first, pulling you down next to him. As soon as you were seated, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tighter, his lower leg hooking yours to him as he took your throw blanket, tossing it over you both.
“So, you guys a thing now,” your buddy next to him asked while giving you a smart-ass grin.
Five glanced at you. He squeezed his hand that was already in yours. “Yes,” you firmly stated and just like the amazing friends they were, they all let it go. They could see this is what you wanted. It was written all over your hopeful face.
You leaned back against Five’s warmth, the comforting rise and fall of his chest reassuring you that everything was as perfect as it seemed.
Every so often, as his fingers absentmindedly trailed down your arm, Five would softly kiss the side of your cheek, then nuzzle his face into your hair.
~~~
When you woke, hours later to one of your friends leaving and Five attempting not to wake you as he quietly answered something his brother had just said, you had no idea what time it was.
“Klaus was planning on staying at my place,” Five whispered. “We have that family birthday thing early in the morning and we are riding together.” He slid you out from under him. “You want me to carry you to your room?” he asked, as he righted himself.
“I doubt you could,” you said back while smiling up at him in the dim light as you stretched your legs out, accidentally kicking your zonked out friend who was sprawled out on the other end of the couch.
“Goodnite,” Klaus whispered, before he went out the door.
Swooping down, Five gently kissed you and kept on kissing you until you started to laugh over how obviously he didn’t want to go. “Best night of my life,” he chuckled, his own smile stretching as he finally pulled away. “I’ll be back sometime early afternoon. Can I see you again?”
Stroking your fingers along his jaw, you whispered back, “You better.”
Five’s tired eyes softened even more. He brushed his lips against yours one more time.
Then he was gone.
~~~
Back to reality, your mind lost in a past that doesn’t exist anymore while your body remains stuck in a present form of hell you can’t escape, lying there in your bed, you keep trying to work through your memories of Five.
For his part, like he always does at night, Five stays with you in the only way he feels that he can, over 60 years of time separating you as he sits in his chair in front of the Infinite Switchboard.
After thrashing around in your blankets, reliving things you don’t want to let go, giving into your body’s most primal urges, you shove your hand in your pants, digging your fingers against your clit, tugging and pulling and rubbing. Breathing heavily, your release comes and goes way too fast, giving you nothing to replace the man you refuse to let go.
Finally, worn out and mentally broken, your breathing slows, and your eyes close.
You fall into a fitful sleep, your face pinched with the same stress it’s had since you entered your apartment earlier that night.
A few minutes before this, with his reddened eyes darting around as he tries to squash his own anguish, trying in vain to convince himself that what he’s seeing isn’t because of him, Five throws his arms down on the messy desk space, burying his face in the fold of his arm.
You’re upset, that much he is willing to admit.
You have old news clippings of him and his faded collector cards, and other silly trinkets from the days the Umbrella Academy meant something to the world.
You only have his.
Going through the list of issues in his head, Five comes up with only more problems with all this.
All that is something, but it's not like you would be harboring some old crush on the nerdy little 13-year-old he was in those pictures, because back when those cards were cool, you were only four years old! Back then, you probably didn't even know your address, let alone who the kids who lived at the Umbrella Academy were. But despite that, you clearly have something going on and it’s clearly aimed at him.
You moan repeatedly as the blankets covering you shuffle.
“Fuck…” Five breathes as he looks up, realizing what you are doing.
What you have going on is clearly at least partially a horny thing, and an angry thing, and fuck, fuck, FUCK!
Five can’t stop looking at you writhing against your hand.
He shifts his legs apart, refusing to give his hardening cock the attention it's screaming for. It’s bad enough that he’s watching you jerk off, but doing that with you, like this…
No.
“God damn it!” he curses, kicking his legs out, throwing his hands back behind his head as he forces himself to look at the floor.
No one else remembers, so there is no way you do!
This has to be something else causing this, right?
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looks back up. Your breaths are slowing. Your hand slips up along your stomach, laying limply against your t-shirt.
Your eyes stay closed and Five wants so badly to kiss the lids covering them. Since he can’t, he does what he’s always done, he imagines the things he wants.
Shutting his own eyes, he imagines himself there with you, protectively folded around you, your bodies illuminated by the muted silhouettes from the leaves fluttering outside in the canopy of trees outside your window.
He can almost feel himself kissing the moonbeam dancing across your cheek, flickering along the ridge of your nose-almost.
There’s no warmth to this dream, no sensation of your touch lovingly holding him back.
This is all there had ever been for Five for nearly a lifetime, but now, thanks to you, he knows what it’s like to have something real, and now he is drowning in the shocking reality of his endless loneliness.
Chilled, but unwilling to move to an office to throw himself down on something more comfortable, when his breathing melts into a rhythm of rest, Five floats away with you, going into a nightmarish dreamscape, a place moments before the world fell apart and he lost you.
~~~
As your sleep deepens, you start tossing and turning, your mind projecting images of you bursting out the doors of your apartment. You didn’t care how terrified you were or that you had no weapon to defend yourself against whatever was happening. You had to get to Five.
You took off, sprinting down the sidewalk in the direction of the explosions, rather than in the opposite direction like everyone else was doing.
The sky was casting a strange glow of orange and violet light over everything. It looked like an alien landscape, not the loud city with its shops and business filled with people doing normal things, unless you considered running for their life normal.
You knew it was crazy for you of all people to think you could do anything to help, but it was also crazy that the Five apparently had superpowers, but you'd seen it for yourself on your TV, and the people with him did too.
You kept on, moving along, seeing the destruction getting worse the closer you got to where the news had shown the fighting.
The air near the ground was thick with black smoke as you got closer, but you kept going, knowing from what you’d seen on the news that Five was there, but nothing could have prepared you for it when you rounded a corner and saw all of them. Like some kind of science fiction movie on crack, everywhere you looked, unexplainable things were happening that shouldn’t be.
It was madness, all of it, the way Five was disappearing and reappearing, the way they were shooting laser beams from their eyes and throwing cars like they were nothing. Klaus was there too, like some kind of oracle, casting his hands out, making phantom-like figures appear out of nowhere, all the luminous bodies he’d created readily joining the fight.
Either brave or stupid, you started to cross the battlefield of flipped cars that lay between you and them, staying down, trying not to get hit by the barrage of bullets and other things flying in your direction.
Five was yelling, calling for everyone to get together. He wasn’t okay, you could see that. He was staggering, trying so hard to stand in the storm that was enveloping him.
He fell to his knees, screaming for them.
Blood smeared across his face as his hand came up, wiping his cheek.
The blood was gushing from his nose and seeping down his neck from his ears, but he kept screaming for them. The near blinding light kept growing, extending out from his hands and entire body.
Between broken car windows, you watched as the group gathered around him, two of them looking like they were sending out some kind of force field that was keeping them safe from the bullets and the fire-like aura that was glowing down from the sky.
Then, to your horror, you realized the fire was actually coming from some of them. Their flesh was cracked and blackened, like lava was running under their skin.
They were burning.
Five was burning!
Your voice cut through the air, penetrating the chaos. “FIVE!”
Just then, extreme pain was the only way to describe what you felt.
A deafening blast sent you flying, slamming your spine against the door of an upside-down car. Pain radiated through you. You reactively curled in on yourself. You desperately clasped your hands over your ears, trying to block out the high-pitched sound that was trying to stab your brains out, but you painfully realized that the ringing wasn’t something you could stop.
You could hardly move, gasping for air that wouldn’t fill your lungs, but then suddenly Five was next to you, eyes wide, searching you over, saying something, but all you could see was his lips moving as his hands frantically moved over you, trying to cover all the places where your clothes were becoming wet with blooming circles of red.
You watched Five’s mouth repeating the words, “I will fix this.” He was saying it over and over.
Then, just like that, stinging pelts of liquid hit your face as the side of Five’s skull ripped open.
You watched as if in slow motion as the inside of his head spilled out like a macabre brain soup. Then you watched in horror as he tumbled over, your shell-shocked body not working fast enough to catch him.
The side of Five’s ashen face slammed into the glass covered concrete.
Scrambling to your knees, you pulled him to you, his broken head rolling limply in your lap as you screamed.
Your tears mixed with his blood.
You didn’t even notice Klaus until he was right there. He came sprinting to a stop a few yards away, seeing you and his brother.
“Help him,” you begged. You refused to take your eyes from Five’s, then Klaus took off, shouting something.
“No, no, no! Please, no!” you wailed as Five remained motionless, legs twisted in a way that made him look so small.
Five was not small. He was strong and he was…
He was everything.
Suddenly a wind from nowhere started whipping up tiny bits of debris from all around you. Looking up, you saw the impossible. There was a ghostly image of Five out in the street next to his brother where they were standing in a blue-ish purple electrical storm filled with glistening marigold, fire and light.
You could see Five over there, but he was also still with you, his warm blood matting his dark strands of hair, coating your fingers as you cradled his head as if you could fix the damage done to him if you willed the hole in him closed, but his empty green eyes continued to stare off at nothing.
The torrents of energy that Five had been violently projecting before he’d appeared over by you grew stronger, making it near impossible to make out anything happening over by them, but you were able to see him out there, lightning filled hands clenched like claws as fire like sparkles swirled around him and the strange static and twinkling lights of power weren’t just coming from Five. It was coming from all of them, as if mixing.
Dazed, and evidently not stable, they all simultaneously fell to their knees, but Five didn’t this time.
His face was no longer spattered with his blood as he looked up, past his siblings as they fell to the ground as if they were puppets whose strings had just been cut.
As your eyes met, it was as if you were seeing Five for the first time ever, seeing all versions of him, and it wasn’t just happening to him, though the ghostlike projections of Five were dramatically different compared to those of his siblings. He was older in some of them, but you were sure it was him, with that funny mustache and his same soft eyes.
Five was that man, and then he wasn’t again, he was just a boy, so young, so angry, nothing but skin and bones, his tormented face covered in ash and grime.
All of them, all the different versions of them were morphing, snapping together with alternate images of themselves, like a flip book that’s pages clapped with thunder as they turned.
Then, out of nowhere, out of anyone who could have been out there in all that madness, Reginald Hargreeves, the richest man in the world, was towering over you. His expression was serene as he looked down at the dead boy you were crying over. Then he looked up, his expression not scared at all as he said, “Hold on to him. It will all be over soon.”
Bleeding out and going into shock, you looked back out at the other Five. Even in the distance, you could see his mouth.
His mouth! The one you knew intimately, pulled up just a little as he gave you a dreamy smile, as if he was seeing something in all this that you couldn’t.
You screamed Five’s name as the ball of fire inside him began to consume what was left of his crumbling body.
“No!” you cried, but this time Five couldn’t hear it.
The bubble around them burst, life and death, creation and destruction, you, Five, all of it and time itself, all tied to him and the tale of rebirth, and it was coming for you in a wall of fire.
Your own terrified scream echoing inside your head was the last thing you heard.
Then you were all gone.
~~~
“NO!” You cry out, trying to free yourself from your knotted blankets. You’re in the darkness of your bedroom again, no longer holding Five’s dead body while you watched the ghost of him in the distance, being taken away by an otherworldly fire.
Your heart feels like it could rip out of your chest, it's pounding so hard.
Your hands come up, digging at your eyes as if you can make it all go away, but the heat of your tears is as real as the pain of losing him. “Please no,” you helplessly whimper as you pull your legs up under your arms so you can drop your head between your knees. “I need you, Five,” you sob, your body shuddering.
“I am here, please don’t cry, I am so sorry.”
Your head shoots up, your eyebrows flying halfway up your face, the thumping in your chest threatening to do you in as you blink, over and over, seeing Five right there, at the side of your bed, looking like he just woke up, but looking as beautifully disheveled in his three-piece suit as he always does.
“Ff-Five?” your voice cracks.
“Hey, handsome,” he quietly breathes as he sinks down on the bed next to you, his legs dangling over the side as he reaches over, gently brushing a sweat-dampened piece of hair out of your eyes.
“You you-you-"
“I know,” Five says, pulling you to him.
Arms around him, he squeezes you tight. You breathe in, your face buried against his collar because you’re still not sure he’s real.
“I didn’t think it was possible, but-” He stops, pulling back enough to make you look at him. His eyes glaze over in thought as he lets out a shaky breath. “No one else but us remembered, and I didn’t-" His teary words catch in his throat. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I never should have-” A single tear rolls down his cheek. “I never should have let this happen, but nothing could have prepared me for you and how you made me feel, and I- Even if you remember me, I shouldn’t be here, but I heard you crying, and I had to-"
He tries to pull away.
“NO! Don’t you dare go!” You give Five’s shoulders a little shake, “Don’t you dare leave me again! And what the hell do you mean you heard me? Where were you, in my fucking closet!”
“No, I was pathetically hiding out in a musty old office building in 1955.”
“Okay- Okay-" Your heart is racing so hard you can’t think but that makes no sense. “What the fuck, Five!”
He lowers his face like he wants to disappear and that only makes you cling to him tighter.
“The place I am talking about, and my association with it is a long story,” he starts, “-and I promise I will tell you everything if you want me to, but the reason I was there now was because it’s the only place I could go to see you.” He looks up, his eyes filling. “There’s a machine I invented, it lets the operator dial in places and times. I have missed you so fucking much,” he rambles, clearly spiraling, but you refuse to let him go no matter how confused and mad you are.
“Look, the things you say are just- Yeah.” You let out a puff of air, shaking your head over all this craziness. “But I want you! I don’t care about the rest!"
“I’m not who you think I am. I have done so many horrible things,” he interrupts.
“Five, I know that you are so many more things than what I thought you were in the beginning, but I want all of them. I saw you! All of you! You had a mustache for Christ Sake! I know who you are!”
“You don’t know all of it,” he whispers.
“I don’t care! You saved us. I don’t understand it, but I know you did. You were the only one in the end before everything disappeared. I thought you were dead!”
“I know.”
“You told me that I’m the first person you wanted to open yourself up to,” you continue, “Did you mean it when you said that?”
His lower lip quivers as he nods. “I meant every word of it, and you are still all I want.”
“Then don’t leave me again!” you shout at him, pushing him down on your bed.
Five still looks totally lost but with your insistence, he surrenders himself to you heavily crawling on top of him.
Fully reclined, you throw your leg over his, coming down at his side to tuck your head under his chin, effectively detaining him but letting him breathe. You can hear his heart hammering in his chest as he looks down at you peering up at him.
His eyes search yours he quietly asks, “Are you sure you still want this?”
“Yes, I am sure,” you insist.
His long fingers trace a line up your back, skating the surface of your shirt.
“Please talk to me, Five. I meant it when I said I want this with you more than anything.”
“Why?” he questions, sounding so dejected.
You sit up, straddling him so you can keep him trapped but also take him on, face to face. “Because even with all the crazy things you told me, knowing what I know now, I think you were telling me the truth about all of it, and you know what, I am not scared. I don’t care how old you are, or if you were an assassin. I don’t care what you’ve done to get here. All that matters is you are.”
“You mean that?” he whispers, reaching around you, his long fingers tracing a soothing line up your back.
You nod and his hand comes up, moving to the back of your head, pulling your lips to his in a chaste kiss that ends all too fast.
You try to kiss him again but Five turns his head, squirming away, not letting you.
Your eyebrows come together in frustration.
“You know… For all my mistakes, I finally thought I had it all figured out, but then this…” His voice trails off as his hands move around your backside, grabbing your ass. “This never should have happened. You weren’t supposed to remember, but you evidently do, or you wouldn’t be trying to hump my leg because you know that getting me hard is going to help you get your way.”
You look down where your crotch is pinning his quad, and he laughs.
You’re just about to tell the asshole you are not trying to hump his leg when he says, “The reason I think you remember,” He cracks a sad smile, making him look so beautifully broken, “The reason you remembered, is because I fell in love with you. A part of you was with me in the end and I couldn’t let it go. You’re a part of me now whether you like it or not.”
“You love me?”
“More than anything.”
In the subsequent silence, your shoulders wither, a single thought floating among the sea of worries in your mind.
You love him too.
You come at him, there’s no stopping you from kissing him. Like you are doing to him, Five’s hands grasp at your body, everywhere they can reach, caressing, groping, pinching, anything to feel each other.
Jutting your cunt across his thigh, you assault his lips, drawing your teeth across his pout in retribution for him thinking you wouldn’t want this.
Stroking his neck, his hands holding you in place, he moans as you grind his leg. Adding to your pleasure, Five begins exploring your neck with his tongue, tasting your skin, licking the sweat of your nightmare clean off as you rut into him, panting and gasping, filling the quiet of the small room.
Boldly sticking your hand down your pants, rubbing your cock, you lower your voice as deep as you can as you ask, “Did you watch me do this?”
“Yes,” Five rasps, his hands moving down, suddenly taking you by the waist. Like lightning striking, the air around you lights up, every nerve ending in your body comes alive as you’re flung through a swirling storm of sapphire, coming back to the present a millisecond later with your back slamming on your mattress.
Head still spinning, Five falls over you from the air, his body still glowing in his whirl of magical light. His irises dance with embers as he dives in, kissing your neck again.
“What. The Fuck Was That? Did you just teleport me?” you deliriously groan as he attacks you.
"No, I blinked you," he corrects, "It's a spontaneous reaction to having a very naughty boy trying to fuck my lap,” Five informs you with his lips at your earlobe, before kissing down, gnawing on your jaw, as he attempts to blindly unbutton his shirt.
Oh, my God, this man...
Not satisfied with the speed, you begin to help him, and his smile at your impatience is almost as hot as the sight of him laying over you, shrugging it off. Five is nothing but lean valleys of muscle, all pointing to the dangerous weapon he’s packing in his pants, but interestingly enough, his famous Umbrella Academy tattoo on his wrist isn’t the only tattoo he’s got.
Seeing geometrically balanced circles and lines criss-crossing in the middle of his chest must have you making the funniest looking face because Five starts laughing.
“This,” He points to the black and gray washes of ink marking him. “This is evidence of one of my many blunders through time, but it’s worth the pain and looking like a fucking idiot if it means I get to see you looking at me like that.”
You trace the lines. “You are beautiful, Five, all of you.”
“As long as you think so, because I think I’m stuck with it now,. I am a complete package of the old me, the young me, and the tattooed and very fucking horny me,” he says before much more seriously asking, "You ok taking yours off too?"
You nod and Five dips low, using his nose, he starts nudging your t-shirt shirt up. He playfully sucks and nips you all the way up to one of the darkened pink scars under your pecs. Your breath hitches as he traces a line over it with his fingertip, then slowly begins to kiss you there too, his teeth grazing your nipple for good measure.
“So perfect,” he hums, sending a direct signal from you’re the now hardened nub all the way down to your groin.
As you’re reeling over him saying that and the feeling of him flicking his tongue across your other pec, Five’s hands start moving up your sides, slowly lifting your shirt over your head.
Your legs tense, fighting against the growing ache between them as Five kisses down your torso, marking you where the skin dips at your hip, the palm of his hand hot as it rests over your abs, firmly holding you down.
Already trembling, you let out a small cry of desperation.
Gazing up at you with his pupils blown dark with desire, Five tears open the button holding your jeans closed. Lifting for him, he pushes your remaining clothes down your flushed thighs.
With you fully naked, your bodies roll slightly as Five comes down on the bed next to you. You spread your legs and just as fast, he reaches between them, rolling your clit between thumb and forefinger.
You gasp your approval, “Fuck yeah, don’t stop.”
“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Five groans, just below your ear, sending a shiver zipping up your spine as a gush of wet drips out of you. “I can’t get enough of your dick,” he says while playfully pecking your jaw.
“Same,” you gasp, your enlarged clit so sensitive, you can’t help but whine like a puppy when his hand starts to firmly rub it.
Your hand reactively grips his shoulder painfully hard the faster he goes, and his eyes narrow dangerously in response.
Knowing without words what you need, barely thirty seconds into it, two fingers start jabbing inside you, aiming at your sweet spot.
“Holy fuck,” you breath before Five can capture your mouth in a hard kiss again.
As your hips jerk into his hand, Five’s hand snakes down along your side to rub his own cock, all the while he never stops sucking at your neck or giving you needly little licks in between his kisses. Soon the nips get hard enough to make you throw your head back, thrashing.
With Five jerking himself, bucking against you, your hands grip at the sheets, hanging on for dear life as your walls start spasming.
Even though you’re flailing, moaning loud as your hips jerkily fuck into his fingers, you can hear that Five is humming all sorts of dirty things, the vibrations of his words against your throat sending your brain even further down the spiral of your fuckedy fuck land.
Having brought you over the edge, he pulls out. His hand on your thigh moves around you, gripping your ass to pull you in closer as he rolls on top of you.
Five licks at your lips before he slides his hands down to the back of your thighs to pick you up, grinding your crotch into his restrained shaft. “God, I want to fuck you so badly,’ he growls before crashing your lips together again.
Five’s powerful body bears down on you, the drag of his cock between your legs too much but also not enough. Encouraging him to keep up what he was doing, only with his pants off, you try to push his pants down, even as he’s still urgently rocking his hips into you.
“Fuck,” he groans, his teeth grazing your neck as he gasps for air. His hips twitch to a stop at the feeling of his cock about to spring free.
“I want all of you, Five,” you breathe, holding his cheeks under your palms as you pull his head up, making him look at you.
“Are you sure?”
“More than anything. I love you, Five.”
His soft eyes light up as if this wasn’t already obvious. He smiles down at you with an adoring look, caressing your face and pushing your hair aside as you blush under his loving gaze. He leans in to kiss along your jaw and down your neck as he scrambles to remove his pants with you helping him along, hooking your fingers under his tailored waistband, dragging them down his thighs, pushing them the rest of the way off with your feet.
“Oh Fuck,” Five groans as he lowers back down and his cock slips over the moist heat between your legs.
Instinctively, he starts to rut against you again. Before you can do more than hum a moan through your pinched lips, you feel the head of Five’s dick align with your throbbing hole.
“Protection?” Five impatiently asks, coming to a full stop.
Drunk with desire, all you can do is shake your head no, but the message is clear. You don’t need it.
Tenderly squeezing your ass, with his eyes locked to yours and his voice barely above a whisper, Five asks, “You ready?”
“Yes,” you breathe, keeping your fingers threaded in his thick dark hair, holding him in place with one hand, the other sliding from his muscular back to gripe his shoulder.
He starts to push slowly. “Aw fuck” you moan as just the head of his cock slips in. You throw your head into the pillow, biting your lip to keep from crying out.
Five’s warm breath slowly fans over your neck. He’s not moving a single inch. “Does it hurt?”
“It- It’s good,” you huff, letting out a tense breath as you lift your hips higher, letting him know you can take it.
“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, as your body tightens and quivers along the thick length slowly filling you.
Not even full deep, your brain feels like it’s just flashed on and off and it’s not at all working right.
"You’re so fucking gorgeous," Five patiently huffs, his focus on gauging your every reaction, holding himself still as possible.
“More,” you whine.
You clench involuntarily, letting out a low moan when Five works his hips forward, then back a little, a pleasant change that has you twitching for him even more.
He dips to kiss you, gasping for breath as he opens you even more. Too much for him at once, he takes his kisses to your neck.
He takes a moment to pull half-out of you before digging back in. Firm, slow, and steady, he fucks his hips into you while he bears down with a hiss. Your walls clench him tight, the extra pressure drawing out a moan from both of you.
Your eyes flutter closed as your fingers scratch against Five back. His hips press up, aiming to get as deep as possible, where he stays for one moment before pulling out and thrusting halfway in again and again.
"Fuck, Five, fuck," you slur out as your body begins to slip and slide across your sheets.
He grabs hold of your knee, pushing it back to meet your shoulder, falling into you deeper on his next thrust and you let out wet gasp, before he starts fucking you at a maddening pace, in and out, in shallow thrusts.
As he looks between your bodies, watching with an adorable fascination as his cock disappears inside you, you cry out, “Faster.”
Five obliges.
He really starts moving and the feel of him pumping his whole length inside you has your body arching and writhing up from the bed, lips parted in broken moans that fill the room and your entire apartment and probably your entire floor.
“Yes, Five. Fuck yes! “Don’t stop-fucking-fff,” you stammer, moving your ass up slightly which drives him deeper and brings on more breathless curses from you both. He’s so deep each time his body meets yours he’s knocking the wind from your lungs in breathy consonants and vowels of nonsense.
“Mmmmffff- aaah-ahhh-"
“Fuck-you-rrr-such-ah-good-boy, so tight,” he incoherently gasps along with you, as he pistons his cock into you, his thick tip fucking your cunt just right.
You’re plunging into a freefall, the coiling inside you causing you to cry out his name. At the sound of it, Five’s mouth finds yours, sloppily kissing you.
You’re both breathing too heavily for the kiss to last very long because breathing through your noses isn’t giving either of you enough oxygen. Breaking away, his forehead presses to your shoulder, a curtain of his dark hair falling around it as his strong pelvic slams into you.
"Please- fuck- harder-" you plead, and your magical super boy grants your wish.
Your eyes roll back in your head as Five pounds you harder and faster. Head spinning, your heart feeling like it might burst, your entire body is screaming for release.
“Come on, cum for me,” Five growls before resting his palm over your clit, thrusting his hand in time to his hips.
Your brain is getting shook loose with each slam of his body smacking into yours, and your bed frame isn't doing much better as it creaks and thumps into the wall in a pattern that matches your curses.
"Fuck- Fuck- FUCK-"
You’re reduced to disjointed moans as you fall apart. Shaking head to toe through a mind-melting orgasm, the throbbing intensity as you cum hits you over and over until it completely overwhelms your senses and leaves you speechless.
“That’s right, cream on daddy’s cock,” Five encourages as he quickly flips his head back, his dampened hair falling right back in front of his eyes as he smirks.
“Five- Fu-ffff,” you wetly gasp.
“Ready for another one?” he asks, still undulating his cock as he quirks an eyebrow.
“Ww-wah? How are you doing this,” you ask, meaning how the fuck is he still fucking you! He said he’d been with someone else before, but… Fuck!
His smirk only gets bigger. “Lots of practice with a very receptive inanimate object, named Dolores,” he replies. “Now roll over. Don’t make me count to three,” he warns, before suddenly pulling out, leaving you reeling, his hands on your hips, rolling you over before he pulls your ass high in the air.
The heat of his cock hits your entrance with zero resistance and your body jumps forward when you feel his balls hit your ass.
That move gets you both hissing out strings of discombobulated profanities again as Five holds himself stock still, his eyes closing tight as if he’s in pain..
“Dolores?” you manage to choke.
“Desperate times,” he huffs in way of explanation, then just as the shocking statement he just made and the jolt of him bottoming out is starting to subside, Five smacks your ass, and he’s back to it, fucking into you with a relentless pace.
“Fu-ua-uch-yea-ah, so good,” he disjointedly praises as he rides your ass, hooking his feet inside your ankles so you can’t close your legs.
Your body tightens as his thrusts speed up. You shudder, mouth falling open with a shocked moan as you feel Five’s cock rutting against your insides, demanding every inch of your attention.
With your face down in your mattress, you gasp against moistened fabric. Your shaky fingers clutch at your fitted bedsheet, Five’s brutal pace making steady smack, smack, smack sounds.
You still have no idea how he’s doing it, but Five just keeps on going like his real superpower is that he’s the fucking Energizer Bunny.
Pulling your limp body up to his, Five’s face nuzzles against the back of your neck, hips rolling hard and fast, the sweat from your flush bodies only making it easier for him to fuck into like he’s a well-oiled machine.
“God, you’re magnificent. You feel so fucking good,” he breathes.
"Hnn-mm-unh, uh, uh, please, please-" you moan.
“I’m gonna cum inside you. And you’re gonna cum with me,” Five growls, bearing down on you harder.
You cry out, your next orgasm hitting you as Earth shattering at the first two. You’re shivering, open-mouthed and helpless as you start to feel his warmth spreading with each thrust, Five’s hips jerking slower and slower as he empties his throbbing cock.
He hisses, moaning out a melody of expletives as his hips stutter to a near halt. He just came hard, but that doesn’t stop him as he rolls you against the mattress, coming down next to you, his cock pumping into you a few more times until you’re both left panting and boneless.
He kisses the nape of your neck and tenderly brushes a sweaty strand of your hair from the side of your face. Five stays connected to you until your chests are both rising and falling much slower, then his softening length slips out on its own, a white ribbon of cum immediately spilling out of you, the feel and sight of it making Five let out the softest whimper of distress.
Not letting you go, he kisses your temple.
"That was amazing," he contentedly breathes.
You huff out a sigh in agreement, cheeks flushed, gaze half lidded.
"I didn’t hurt you?" he whispers, a hand coming up to brush over your jaw, so gently. The concern for your wellbeing is reflected in Five’s soft green eyes as he pulls himself up on a wobbly elbow to look at you better.
“Not at all," you mutter with a weak smile as you pull your blankets over, throwing them over both of you.
Five’s hair is sticking up in just about every direction and it’s only adding to the beauty of his dazed grin.
“I’m never leaving you again, that’s unless you make me,” Five murmurs as he lays back down, kissing your shoulder.
“I can’t see that happening, unless you get all boring, getting up early, only to take afternoon naps on my couch before you finish your old man day with one of your exhilarating crossword puzzles rather than finding new ways you can pounce on me and spank my ass.”
He laughs. There’s an impish glint in his eyes, like the twinkles of distant starlight.
“Awww, sweetheart,” he mocks. “You make all my favorite hobbies sound like bad things”
You lean into his touch, sighing in contempt before gently whispering, “Go to sleep and I’ll deal with you in the morning.”
Obediently shutting his droopy eyes, he whispers I love you. Then the prick sneakily pulls his hand back, then smacks you in the ass, making you yelp like a little girl.
Ass burning, your heart is full.
This is Five. The wonderful, amazing, sexy jerk you fell in love with.
Next to you, almost as soon as the quiet fills the space between you again, you can tell he’s drifting off to sleep.
Five is finally home.
You roll over just enough to watch him sleeping.
He looks so peaceful. Like a very naughty angel. The best kind.
You kiss his forehead, and he pulls you back in, making you his little spoon.
Laying there, still trying to take in everything that just happened, you think about all the times Five made jokes about his traumatic life and his loneliness. You caught stolen glimpses of his pain in his sweet but sad smiles, shaking his head, eyelids fluttering closed as he determinedly set his jaw, acting like his memories didn’t hurt him.
Five tried to build a wall around his heart, the barriers entrenched by years of grief, but it all came crashing down at the world’s end.
Now it’s time for happiness.
~~~~~~~
Masterpost
Link to my other Tumblr story/art/and asks
Link to visit me direct on A03tua
#five hargreeves#number five#five hargreeves x you#transmasc#ftm reader#number five x you#five hargreeves x male reader#five hargreeves smut#male x male#number five x reader#number five smut#trans fanfic#five hargreeves x reader#trans ftm#kaybreezy-on-a03#ftm nsft#number 5#number five fanfiction#number five fanfic#anon request#dirty romance#Number Five male reader#ftm ns/fw#tua season 4#tua s4#tua season 4 fanfic
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Random's Lore Drops - Canon Fall but in past tense Sans
Y'know, It'd be funny if I made a post about an Undertale AU character that I originally believed in the fanon version (mainly just the being edgy version). So, uh...
(Art by THE Underfella themselves)
This is the Canon Underfell design, by Fella.
(Before we get started, here's canonfell brother relationship so i can cut away some of the lore that's already explained right here.)
I'll be going from the oldest post I can find from Fella, to the newest lore post I can find. Numero uno consists of...
Canon Fell Sans' sneakers. More specifically, why the hell does he wear them instead of slippers? Just design choice? Or maybe it's because he's not allowed to? Nah. According to Fella themselves, "he likes the squeaky sound it makes because everyone hates it". So basically, he likes to squeak the shoes on the floor like he's on a basketball court.
Second post, why the hell does mf sweat so damn much? Well, first reason, he starts to sweat when he's angry. Second reason, because of the Sick Ass Jacket™️ that he got from making Grillby laugh. I mean, have you seen how thick it is? I'd be sweating too.
Random post I had to find, how did Sans get his jacket? Well, it's obvious of course, I said it before. He made Grillby laugh (unintentionally), and when you make Grillby laugh in Underfell, he gives you a smaller version of his coat. Now Sans is kitted with Sick Ass Jacket™️ and was forced to dress better, wearing said Sick Ass Jacket™️, a turtleneck, a gold chain (that's usually under said turtleneck), basketball shorts, and squeaky squeaky.
Third (lore relevant) post, the brothers dynamic. They DON'T hate eachother. On the fucking contrary. They both care for eachother, and don't really express it all too well. Brother relationship post HERE.
Fourth post, he's got 5 rings. 5 sick ass (not trademarked) rings, and the reason he can wear them is because he uses his magic so they don't fall off. From Fella themselves, the reason he has them on is because "the guy wants to flex so hard he’s constantly using his powers to keep them there. He doesn’t even think about it, he has so much power to spare he might as well “live” a little." So yeah, he uses his magic to keep wearing his rings cause he can.
Fifth post? Sans canonically CAN ball (so can Frisk, but Frisk is scarier)
Sixth, he's capable of opening his mouth. But it's usually when he's in battle, otherwise it won't ever open, because he's never under enough stress to have enough power for such.
Seventh, mf's eye is always glowing, no matter what. Mainly because he's had so much stress and emotional trauma, his magic is piled up, so his magic sorta does some wacky shit, like make his coat look cool.
Eighth, an almighty lore post by Fella, explaining how Sans awoke his powers and also how Papyrus got scar. Long story short, Gaster went missing, Sans was to take the blame, his punishment was Asgore crushing his skull, Paps retaliated, got hired and had his skull scratched through for a scar, and Sans got pissed off and woke his magic.
Ninth (nineth? idfk) semi-unrelated one is that Sans is the ONLY character not directly affiliated with Asgore who wears red and gold.
The rest I find from a canonfell wiki. Such as, he likes mustard and relish more than ketchup, and prefers knock-knock jokes to puns. Supposedly one of his more favorite drinks is a green martini, either appletini or honey dew martini, with larger quantities being a margarita
oh shit there's an official ask about sans hates women underfell (or technically a nod to it), which then displays that "i sans underfell love woimen", by the very words of sans underfell himself. REAL!
Oh yeah, he canonically sells chimichangas instead of hotdogs. His provider is not the store, but instead Papyrus. And according to this wiki, he gave Papyrus a hang-in-there cat poster as a joke, and Papyrus hung it up on the wall.
anyways thats all the lore i will feed you and that the wiki has fed me. goodbye.
#random's lore drops#this was made as a draft on may 8th 1:30 AM. i'm sleep deprived lmao#send help. send sleeping drugs. and send something else idk.#sans#utdr#underfell#undertale au#undertale#edit before i send this out at 12 AM#but like. the queue was supposed to send this WAY before#but tumblr was fuckin shitty and never sent it BOTH times i scheduled it#and so i have to send it now
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professor potter
pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)
summary: 2 years after the war, harry accepted a position as a substitute professor at hogwarts and recognized you from his years as a student. old feelings come to the surface as you both try to remain professional to keep his position safe.
content warning: slight teacher/student dynamic (they used to be classmates, reader is 18+), mostly slow burn & angst. smut mostly doesn't happen til the end (masturbation, penetration)
word count: 12.5k
a/n: wrote this for fun between working on requests! thank you to everyone who sends them in, they're so good and i'm excited to post more soon! just another fluffy, angsty harry fic taking place in school w a hint of smut...kinda similar to my last one but thats ok ! as always not exactly book/movie/canon accurate i apologize !
it's your first day of your last year at hogwarts, and you're probably the only student here that's not completely thrilled to be back. young witches and wizards running around you in the halls with their robes dragging on the ground, completely in awe with each other at the architecture and moving portraits.
you have to admit, if hogwarts does anything right, it's the ambience. probably the only thing you'll miss after leaving this year is the magic castle itself, particularly the library and your dorm room, which have been your sanctuaries for the past 7 years. there's just no place in the world, even the wizarding world, you've found, that quite compares to hogwarts.
but no, unfortunately, not even the grandiose castle of every young wizard's dream was enough to make you want to stay here even a day longer than you had to. and trust, you were counting down the days.
there was a lot that went into your disdain for the school. after the war in your 5th year, nothing had been the same. sure, the building was restored to its original form and even had some upgrades installed, but the energy within the walls felt so…unsettling.
it had been more than 2 and half years since then, and most students who remember the war well had either graduated or moved on from it. you, however, continued to feel the effects of it every day.
you've had a lot of personal struggles since then mentally, which affects your social life. you've overheard your friends talking about how they don't feel like you're the same person and you inevitably bring them down. it wasn't long after that they stopped talking to you completely. you didn't bother to rekindle the connection; you were ready to leave this place behind anyways, what was the point in faking a friendship for another year?
even without all that, you truly just hated your classes. you actually used to be a scholar student in your day, consistently making the top of the headmaster's list every year until the war. and you still loved headmaster mcgonagall, of course, you don't think that'd ever change, it was mainly the other professors that gave you a hard time. once you showed signs of struggling and burn out, it was like they just completely gave up on you and moved on to the next eager, bright-eyed bushy-tailed 1st year to dote on.
no matter, because again, you were ready to leave for a variety of reasons. even if you had loved your professors and graduated at the top of the class, you still had no friends to celebrate with. and even if you had those so-called "friends" back in your life, you still felt completely alone with them.
and so you laid in bed, the same bed you've had for 7 years now, retracting the ornate trim on the ceiling like you have a million nights before.
you decided to look back at your schedule once more, floating the paper out of its folder in your bag and towards your open hand. you read through it slowly, but nothing had changed. pretty much the worst line up of classes you've had so far. particularly your least anticipated course, defense against the dark arts.
at this point, you'd had more than enough when it came to the dark arts. those death eaters nearly killed you in that war, and actually did manage to kill too many of your classmates and teachers in the process. you saw your second home crumble in front of you, classrooms you grew up in completely leveled and the bridge burned to the ground, so much death and destruction over nothing but power. you resented the dark magic in this world.
sighing, you set the paper down on your bedside table and roll over, attempting to fall asleep. you have plenty of early classes this year and don't look forward to having to wake up with the sun to make it to them on time.
you're wasting time in the bathroom just before your defense against the dark arts, your last class of the day, when your peace is interrupted by a group of girls who come in giggling and talking rapidly amongst each other. from inside your stall you can't help but tune into their gossip. it's the only thing you could hear and, who cares, you could use some good drama.
you tried to dissect their conversation but they were constantly talking over each other, squealing, giggling, and you couldn't understand a thing. after a few moments of craning your neck towards the door to get a better listen, one girl's voice stood out amongst the rest as she asked, "okay, but, who's going to try and flirt with potter first?" her question was followed by many desperate "me!" "me!" "me!"s, a wave of giggling following.
potter. there's no way…
the bells begin ringing, signaling your next class is starting soon, and the girls go rushing out of the bathroom together. you slowly open the stall door and walk to the closest mirror. pale, like you've seen a ghost.
they couldn't possibly be talking about harry potter, right?
just his name had become plenty famous in its own right. the boy who lived; the boy who lived twice. you hadn't heard his name mentioned in a long time, though that's not hard when you've hardly interacted with anyone here in a long time.
you remembered harry from your years before the war that you had shared with him. he was 2 years ahead of you, so it wasn't often you had the chance to speak with him, but he was pretty much as legendary as one student could be at hogwarts. however, whenever you did manage to have a conversation with him, you always thought he was cute. really cute.
okay, so maybe you had a ginormous crush on him your entire time at hogwarts. but so did pretty much every other girl. but you didn't just think he was cute, you admired his gentle nature and timid personality. despite his heroic and outright dangerous adventures, he was always so kind, so humble…
the bells begin ringing again, meaning you're now late to class. "shit." you mutter, grabbing your bag and stumbling through the bathroom door.
you're jogging to your dark arts class with a racing mind, still wondering why those girls would mention potter's name so randomly.
you turn the corner and see the classroom door is already closed. "shit." you mutter again, stomping your foot. now you have to open the heavy doors and draw everyone's attention towards you, quite literally the last thing in the world you want right now.
sighing, you push open one of the doors, making the loudest noises you've ever heard echo throughout the silent classroom. you walk in and, as expected, all eyes are on you.
you grit your teeth and close the door behind you, making your way towards an empty seat in the middle of the room. the silence lingers as your footsteps hit the ground, trying your best not to make eye contact with anyone. you hear a few snickers and whispers coming from behind, and you can already tell it's your old friend group. you roll your eyes, sighing as you drop your weight into the creaky wooden seat.
you hadn't realized, but headmaster mcgonagall was at the front of the room. you noticed once she continued talking, looking up to see her smiling at you. you returned it. you love how she's always liked you despite your grades slipping lately.
you quickly look back down at your hands as people begin to turn away from you, drawing their attention back to mcgonagall as she continues to introduce the class.
"like i was saying, class, we apologize for the change this semester and hope you'll be understanding of us as we navigate this situation carefully. i suspect you'll all be respectful and courteous to our guest as he donates his time to hogwarts and to you, our students."
you look back up, a confused look on your face. what change? what situation? what guest?
it didn't take you long to connect the dots. it's like everything was in slow motion. the girls talking in the bathroom, the guest, the reason all the front rows of seats in class were completely filled with girls…
"please, class, welcome hogwarts' very own, mr. harry james potter."
all at once, your eyes landed on harry, who had been sitting to the side, obscured from your vision by several girls and a pillar. as he walks towards mcgonagall, eager applause erupt from the girls and the boys offer mediocre claps. you're too stunned to react, watching harry intently as he shakes mcgonagall's hand with that same timid smile.
you can hardly believe your eyes. what is going on? why is he here? and how the hell does he look even better now than he did 2 years ago?
"thank you, headmaster mcgonagall," harry says shyly, turning to the students. his eyes immediately fall on you. you try to convince yourself he's looking just in front of you or even past you, but you can feel his stare into your eyes. its the only thing that breaks you out of your shock.
you blink a few times and slump into your seat, feeling your blood run cold at harry's eye contact. he looks down at the desk he's standing at and shuffles a few papers. you sink even lower into your chair. this can't be good.
"uh, well, hello…everyone," harry says awkwardly, earning some flirtatious giggles from the girls just ahead of you. "it's a pleasure to be here, really, despite the circumstances. uh, i'm sure as some of you know…i've been very close with the weasley family for years and feel devastated for bill– uh, professor weasley, that is," harry corrects himself nervously, clearing his throat and glancing at his papers again.
"and when he reached out to me personally, specifically me out of anyone, to teach in his place for this semester, i couldn't say no to him. so, while it's a real honor to be here with you all, please know it's just for this semester and then professor weasley will be back to continue with the lesson plan in the spring," harry explains, looking around the room yet always letting his eyes land on you specifically with a lingering gaze.
harry goes into the schedule for the semester, the skills you'll be learning, and, well, you can't really focus on what else because you're just completely lost in your own head.
harry potter, the harry potter, is your professor for an entire semester.
you were completely dumbfounded. he couldn't hardly be older than 20 years old at this point. he had only left hogwarts just 2 years prior, yet he looked so different. though the glasses and hair stayed relatively the same, he had matured in the face. a slight beard, defined smile lines, and he'd definitely spent some time in the gym…
seeing him in a button up with his old gryffindor tie on drove you mad. is he really getting you worked up in the middle of class by just standing there? you feel like you're 14 again, staring him down in the courtyard from behind a tree.
it doesn't help that you swear he keeps looking at you. specifically you. his gaze is unmistakable at this point, it can't be a coincidence.
you try to stop yourself from having these thoughts and physical reactions. if he's going to be your professor for an entire semester you have to get over this silly crush that was never going to work out anyway. though you're soon turning 19, it makes no difference if he's working with the school, it would never be allowed…
what are you even saying? as if anything would ever happen except in your dreams. all you're going to do is lust for him until christmas and then he'll be gone again, his name nothing but a spoken legend again.
before you can process all he's said, harry announces that everyone's free to leave once you grab a textbook from him. girls are immediately standing up and running to get in line, and the boys are rolling their eyes as they sluggishly follow behind.
you're inevitably the last one, getting a headache as you listen to girls try to ask harry all kinds of questions for a bit of his attention. he mostly just gives simple answers or laughs them off, referring back to the class or the textbook he was handing them in some way to change the subject.
mcgonagall eventually shoos the girls away, which harry thanks her for in a low tone. he hands a book to each of the boys in front of you before it comes down to you. as the boy in front of you is being escorted away by mcgonagall, you briefly catch harry putting the library card of your book inside the front cover before he closes it.
your eyes connect as he hands the book to you, but he doesn't let go. your heart instantly flutters.
"it's nice to see you again, [y/n]," he says softly, letting the weight of the book fall in your hands.
the way he says your name has you frozen in place. his pretty blue eyes have stayed just as mesmerizing. it takes a moment before you're able to wrap the book in your arms, offering him a friendly smile as you softly reply, "you too, harry…"
you're quickly making your way back to your room with the biggest, cheesiest smile plastered on your face. he remembered you. you had barely ever interacted with harry, only a handful of times as far as you could remember, and you were sure he had completely forgotten about you, or at least forgotten your name. you tried to chalk it up to him having access to the attendance records of the class and reading over your name, but you still felt like a giddy school girl skipping along day dreaming about her crush.
when you got back to your dorm, you set the class textbook down on your desk and went to turn around before looking back at it longingly. harry had just put the library card back in the book before handing it off to you. you were most likely crazy, but something inside you was insanely curious to see if he had done something to the card.
you slowly opened the book and took the card out, a blank piece of cardstock except for a fresh label printed at the top. you sigh, almost putting it back before seeing something on the card catch the shimmer of the light.
you give the card a curious look. you turn it in your hands towards the light, trying to see what's on it. before giving up in frustration, a thought comes into your brain.
no…
you dig into your luggage, still unpacked from the day prior, looking for your old ink and quill. once you find them you come back to the card, setting it on your desk as you open the ink pot. you dip your quill in the ink and touch it to the spot you noticed earlier.
as you watched, the ink collected into letters and numbers, forming a message across the dotted lines of the check out columns. you were stunned. harry actually wrote to you in disappearing ink? you thought you were delusional thinking it was a possibility, but here was the proof plain as day:
[y/n],
hagrid's, 8:30pm
harry
you kept rereading the lines over and over before they slowly disappeared, fading away into the paper. you stood back in pure disbelief. what does this mean? obviously it means he wants to meet with you, but for the life of you you just can't figure out why. you two barely knew one another personally, it had been two years since you'd seen or heard of each other again, and now he's secretly inviting you to hagrid's after hours using disappearing ink? as your substitute professor, too…
from 5-8 pm you mainly paced around your room in both lingering disbelief and unbridled excitement. though you had no idea why harry had invited you out in secret, you were anxious just to be in his presence at his request.
you spent forever deciding on your outfit, feeling a bit silly for putting so much effort into this suspicious rendezvous that you were still clueless about.
sneaking out had become somewhat natural to you over the years. you knew all the blind spots of the castle and could hear a prefect coming from a mile away. you were out of your room and walking down to hagrid's completely unnoticed in less than 10 minutes.
on your way down the hill, your mind is racing with possibilities of what this meeting could entail.
arriving at hagrid's hut, you admire the warm glow of the windows and intoxicating smell coming from the smoking chimney – a mix of wood and garlic. hagrid's pumpkins are just beginning to plump up, his yard scattered with overgrown vines.
as you walk up to the door, a wave of anxiety hits you. knocking seems like the most impossible task in the world all of a sudden.
you steady your breathing, let your heart rate slow, and knock before you have the chance to stop yourself.
a few seconds of some rustling can be heard behind the door before it swings open. harry greets you with a warm smile. no longer dressed for class, harry looks quite adorable in a comfy sweater and baggy jeans standing before you in the hut.
"[y/n], you got my message," he says, clearly impressed. you couldn't believe this was real. he really did leave you that note on purpose. just hearing him acknowledge it made your heart race all over again.
"i-i did," you say in shock, searching his expression for an answer to all your questions. why are you here?
harry gestures for you to come in. "well, join me, please," he insists. you politely smile and enter the hut, the smell of food making your mouth water immediately. "smells amazing in here," you comment under your breath.
harry closes the door, looking back at you with a shy smile. "oh, thank you. it's for us, actually." he tells you, nodding his head towards the dining table.
completely set up with a tablecloth, harry has food plated for the two of you on the tiny table, along with tea still steaming on the stove.
"if you don't mind, of course," he checks with you, his voice soft and unsure. you look back at harry, barely able to grasp what's happening before you reply, "of course,"
he suppresses a grin as he gestures to the table once more. "please," he prompts you. you hand him your bag and jacket before taking your seat at the table, admiring the food he prepared for you. you're still lost in thought when harry asks, "tea?" holding the kettle from the stove.
"please, thank you," you reply. he pours you both cups of tea before bringing them to the table with a smile on his face.
as you're eating you notice a record playing in the corner you hadn't heard earlier. it fills the space nicely as you both take your first bites of dinner. "hope you like it, i wasn't sure what to make," he says nervously.
wiping your lips with a napkin, you simply tell him, "it's lovely,"
after another moment or so, harry sits back in his chair. "so…[y/n]..." he sighs. hearing him say your name like that makes your brain fuzzy for just a second before he speaks again. "you're probably, um, wondering why…"
you stifle a laugh at his stalling, getting a hint of confidence as you interrupt him. "wondering why professor potter secretly invited me to have a home cooked dinner with him?"
harry goes still, his eyes searching your expression as a blush grows over his cheeks. he swallows nervously, blinking and shaking his head before attempting to respond. "u-um, yeah, that,"
smirking, enjoying his nerves, you wait for his explanation with your arms crossed and a raised brow. he clears his throat and diverts his eyes from your gaze. he takes a sip of tea before smacking his lips and looking back at you.
"i just, i haven't seen you…" he starts, eyes softening at you. "i-i know we didn't talk much, but…i always cared for you." the last part was hard for harry to get out, a weight lifting off his shoulders in the process.
you were blushing, but more than that you were sweating. this is like something you would dream about as a kid. hell, even just earlier today…
"when i saw you today…in class…" he seemed uncomfortable referencing that. "i just…a lot of memories came back to me," his hands move with him nervously as he speaks.
he sighs and stands up, his body language clearly stressed. you haven't said a word, you simply can't. what could you possibly say?
harry's facing the fireplace, his head in his hands. "look, i just, now that i'm your professor this semester i just think…" he takes a moment to find the words before turning to you. "i had a crush on you. okay? there. god damn it," harry huffs angrily, rolling his head back as he throws his hands down.
"i had a crush on you for like 3 years, it was stupid, and i don't want it to affect my teaching with you. so…i guess i practically set up a fucking date to tell you this, sent hagrid away for the evening for nothing…" he gestures to the table, sighing in defeat.
you're stunned into silence, to say the least. there aren't words to describe what's going on in your head at this moment.
after a moment harry looks back at you, his gaze softening once again. "[y/n]...please understand i wouldn't be telling you any of this unless i thought there was another way i could deal with it. when i saw you today…it was like i was 16 again," a small smile creeps onto his face before he wipes it away.
"and if i didn't tell you now, it's all i would've thought about when i saw you, so…yeah. there." harry says with a huff, avoiding eye contact with you.
before you can even process what's going on, your body reacts for you. you stand up, walking over to harry, getting his attention off the floor. he looks at you almost with fear in his eyes at how close you are. you sigh shakily before speaking.
"harry…u-um, professor potter…" you correct yourself. "please, just, harry…for now at least," harry insisted, his eyes apologetic.
"harry…" you say, suppressing a grin. "you don't have to worry. really…um, it was definitely mutual, to put it lightly…"
harry gives you a surprised look. "really?"
you roll your eyes, taking a step away from him and towards the fire, enjoying the warmth. "harry, you forget who you are sometimes. essentially every girl i knew had a crush on you at one point."
harry's a little flustered at this statement, also taking a step closer to the fire, and towards you. "i-i wouldn't say that, i was definitely not that lucky back in the day," he jokes.
"so those girls that were practically all over you during class today…?" you tease him. "'oh, professor potter, what can i do to get a good grade?'" you mock their voices, giving him puppy dog eyes as you lean towards him before laughing and turning towards the fire. "is that not luck?" you ask with your arms crossed, a smirk hiding your slight jealousy.
harry's silent for a few moments before you look over at him. you see his eyes dark and fixated on you for just a second before he blinks and shakes his head at you, also turning to the fire. "please. they're children. they crush on any slightly older guy they see."
you roll your eyes again at his denial. "some of them were my age, well on their way to being 19. but, whatever you say."
the fire crackles in front of you two, filling the space and creating a warm glow. "besides…none of them are you." harry says. you look over at him, and he's lost staring at the fire. he feels you looking at him and quickly corrects himself. "i mean, nobody was like you, at least to me, back then…" he trails off awkwardly, wincing at his own choice of words.
you adore his nervous antics. he's just the same sweet, timid boy you remember, except he's a bit taller with a 5 o'clock shadow and looks gorgeous in the glow of a fireplace right now.
"i've really mucked this night up, haven't i? i was supposed to tell you about the crush calmly and professionally, with no inappropriate comments, and send you on your way into the night with your first reading in the textbook…" harry sighs, giving you a pathetic look.
"well…" you start. "your first mistake was probably leaving me a secret note, and cooking me a wonderful dinner," you gesture towards the table. harry lets out a pathetic laugh, shaking his head. "yeah, probably."
you don't know why you feel the need to, but you instinctively grab for harry's hand. he gives you a surprised, scared look.
you try to reassure him with a soft smile. "harry, i appreciate you telling me. i hope it can make this semester easier for you."
harry smiles in return, but it's not genuine. he looks like he's holding back from letting you know how he really feels.
regardless, he invited you two to finish up your food, laughing as you both attempted to resume casual conversation without the awkward air.
surprisingly, the two of you naturally begin to talk up a storm, reminiscing on memories and catching up on what's happened since then. harry tells you about his career as an auror and his experiences that lead him to being able to teach defense against the dark arts. when professor weasley's wife had died of sudden illness, the only person he wanted to take his place was harry.
you're hesitant to tell him about your lack of eventful news, practically hiding your face in embarrassment as you admit that your grades have been suffering since the war.
harry put a reassuring hand on your knee, his chair pushed closer to you. you had both long since finished dinner and just talked, enjoying the fire as harry continued to feed it wood every so often.
you looked up at him, melting at how adorable his tired eyes looked through his glasses. "i get it. trust me." he tells you. his voice puts you at ease, and you don't feel quite as embarrassed as before.
"maybe this semester i could help you. if you'd like, of course," harry offers. you smile. "of course."
as you're slowly making your way towards the door to leave, harry watches you search through your bag to find chapstick. as you're putting it on, he continues to watch you. you sneak a glance at him, his face soft and full of admiration.
"you know, if i may say, in the least inappropriate manner possible…" he says with a laugh, causing you to laugh with him. "you have truly only gotten more beautiful after all this time, [y/n]."
looking over at him, you can feel your face form a cheesy grin with blushing cheeks. "well, thank you, that's very kind," you say, putting your chapstick away and taking another step towards the door. "but, really, i should be saying the same about you."
harry waves you away, but you notice the smile planted on his cheeks. "please," he says sarcastically.
he reaches for the door to open it for you, and finds himself rather close to you by accident. you smile up at him, and he nervously steps back.
"u-uh, thank you for coming tonight, really, even if it was a bit weird…" harry says, an embarrassed laugh following. giggling with him, you take a step outside. "it was nice. but, no more invisible ink. just ask me from now on, okay?" you ask, still giggling at him.
harry shakes his head at himself. "will do."
you give him a warm smile before reaching in for a one-arm hug, resting your head on harry's shoulder for just a second before pulling back. "i'll see you tomorrow, professor potter."
enjoying the shocked and flustered look on his face, you walk away still laughing, making your way up the hill and towards the castle. you heard the door shut behind you quickly after you left, but could feel harry's lingering eyes following you through the window the entire way back.
that night you're laying in bed trying to convince yourself everything that just happened wasn't a dream. if it weren't for your full stomach and muddy shoes sitting by your door you might've convinced yourself it really was all an illusion. rather than dreading the next day of classes, you're actually excited to wake up as it only means you'll see harry sooner.
though you're not sure exactly why. yes you'd had a friendly conversation with him tonight after he admitted his feelings towards you, which still hasn't quite settled in yet…but what happens now? he's still your professor for the next 5 months minimum, and you both know you used to like each other. harry might feel better getting it off his chest, but you were perfectly fine keeping that secret to yourself like you always had. if anything, now it's the only thing you're going to think about every day.
rolling over, you try to fall asleep without thinking about harry too much.
it had been a few weeks since you met with harry that night in hagrid's hut, and things were going…okay, so far.
well, to be completely honest, you had utterly fallen back into your crush on harry harder than you ever had before.
and you tried to stop yourself this time. really, you did. working with harry in class and then stopping by his office at least 3 times a week for his help in other classes was a lot of time to be spending with a professor, and you rather despised just how fast harry made your heart beat or how easily his eyes could distract you.
so you tried your best to convince yourself it was lingering feelings from your past self, even trying to have a crush on other boys in your year to distract your brain. that failed miserably. none of those boys were attractive or interesting on their own, especially in comparison to professor potter…
but you couldn't fool yourself. you still felt the same butterflies seeing harry now like you did in 5th year. when he's talking to you in the quiet of his office, reading your textbook to you, you feel like the only two people in the world. when he fixes your hands to hold the wand properly, or moves your arm for you in the correct pattern to cast a spell, you can't focus for the rest of class. if his eyes linger on you just a bit too long during one of his lectures, a knowing smile growing on his face, you melt in your seat.
there was no denying it. you liked him more now than you ever had before. maybe it's just the sheer amount of time you've spent with him this past month or so, but your feelings for him had never been this strong in the past. there were days where he was quite literally the only thing you thought about, or at least wanted to think about. though you were doing better in your other classes, it was only because of him. you spent barely any outside time putting effort into these classes because, ultimately, you were completely distracted by harry.
and not just the idea of him, but particularly the growing tension you had noticed between you two recently.
you also tried to convince yourself that this was going on in your head. but there were just too many instances of prolonged eye contact, harry sitting a bit too close to you during your tutoring sessions, and lingering hands on your skin that made you question if harry maybe wasn't entirely over his crush either…
not that you tried to make it easy for him. since the semester started, you've been taking some extra time each morning to perfect your hair/makeup, put on your favorite perfumes on days you knew you'd be close to harry, and would even change your outfit completely when going to study with him outside of your school robes to give you a boost of confidence.
not that you needed the boost. lately you could only feel confident in yourself and nothing less. something about learning your life long crush who seemed so unattainable also had feelings for you, and could possibly still, made you feel untouchable. not to mention that any girl you heard talk about him or swoon over him in class just made you laugh to yourself; they had no idea you were with him alone for hours every week goofing off together as he attempted to help you study.
this confidence made its way into other parts of your day outside of harry as well. you were talking more in class, making a few new friends, even going to parties and outings just for the fun of it. you were actually enjoying your time at hogwarts instead of dreading every day. not all because of harry, but it definitely didn't hurt to consider him a friend.
a friend. a professor. an old classmate. a crush. a temporary fixation. your relationship to harry, in your mind, seemed so complicated and sometimes incredibly frustrating. especially when he seemed to flirt with you so subtly. you couldn't stand the, 'is he, isn't he' thoughts. but, at the same time, it just made you more motivated to push the limits to see how he responded.
of course it started with looking good, enjoying his reaction seeing you each day with a small smile and blushing cheeks. then it was making flirtatious jokes and purposefully giving him innocent looks while he rambled about whatever subject to get him flustered and distracted. and, lately, you've stepped it up by wearing shorter and shorter skirts whenever you stop by his office, and have even caught him looking at your legs a number of times when he thinks you're not paying attention.
all this to say, there was definitely tension.
you had to admit you felt a bit guilty, you knew harry valued his position as a substitute professor and was enjoying his time there, and you would feel awful if anything ever happened to cost him this position. he told you about his crush specifically to alleviate it, and your only goal this semester has been to do the opposite.
but, at the same time, you wouldn't act this way if harry didn't also create tension between you two. he also made overtly flirty jokes and comments, even seeming a tad bit jealous whenever you mentioned another boy during your time together. and you weren't stupid, you could tell when he wore the cologne you complimented one time when you were around or had even changed from his school clothes before you came to see him. there was definitely something unspoken going on between the two of you, but you were both afraid of crossing that line and making things complicated. besides, if anything, you both seemed to enjoy this game you were playing of teasing each other in private and then acting normally during class as student and teacher.
honestly, you found it to be insanely erotic, and were more turned on in class than any other time you were with harry due to the secretive nature of everything. his longing gaze as you walk in, his nervous glances towards specifically you, the shift in his voice from talking to one student to talking to you, it was all so subtle yet in plain view. something about wanting what you can't have only made you want it more.
on this particular day, you had been with harry for over two hours studying for an exam for a class you had been struggling with all semester, even with harry's help. you were frustrated, laying your head in your arms with your textbook in front of you, groaning as harry chuckled at you.
"c'mon, [y/n], you've got this. i mean, you did just fine on this last practice test, better than you have all semester really," harry comments, pulling the paper out of your folder. you lift your head up, giving him a mean look. "i got a 75. barely." you deadpan.
"yes, and that's better than what you have been getting." harry stated, trying to hide a smirk. you throw a crumpled up paper at him. "stop, that's not funny," you whine, also trying to hide your laugh.
chuckling, harry stands up and walks towards the bookshelf in his office. "look, i'm just trying to be encouraging here," he says over his shoulder as he scans the rows of books.
you try to get back to your work, but you're just so utterly confused and upset that you close the book with a huff and lean back in your seat with an exasperated expression. harry hears this and turns to you, giving you a sympathetic smile.
he walks back over, picking up the book in front of you and setting it in your bag. "here, we can be done for today. it's not good to push yourself past your limit."
you sigh as you push back the urge to tear up. "sometimes i just feel so stupid," you say in a soft, despondent voice, staring off into the window across from harry's desk.
harry's watching you intently, and nearly drops to his knees as he crouches beside your chair and catches your eyes in his. "hey, you're not stupid. quite the opposite, actually." he says with a genuine voice. you look away, still not believing him.
"really, [y/n], and i'm not saying this as your professor. back in school i was constantly listening to hermione go on and on about your intelligence and class rank. she was incredibly impressed and slightly envious that someone 2 years below her was actually providing some competition at this school." harry says with a laugh.
you can't help but blush like crazy at this confession. hermione had been your academic inspiration for all of your time at hogwarts, and even still now despite your declining lack of effort. you'd had quite a few conversations with her in the past about classes and certain books or authors you both enjoyed, but had no idea she thought that highly of you.
mulling over this information in your head, harry continued to grab your attention with a soft smile and loving eyes. "you're not stupid. different things are harder for different people. you'll get there, and i'll help you. okay?" he asks.
you smile back at him. "okay."
slowly packing up to leave, you and harry both take your time to gather your supplies as you chat about your respective plans for the weekend. you casually mention a party you were thinking of going to. harry perks up at this. "a party?" he asks, a twinge of concern laced in his voice.
you give him a look. "yeah, ever heard of it?" you ask sarcastically, laughing to yourself. "i guess it's one of the slytherin boys' birthdays, or something like that," you wave off, throwing your bag over your shoulder. "apparently it's going to be massive,"
harry continues looking at you with a hint of concern. "well, just…be safe, yeah?" harry comments, his voice uneasy. you laugh at him again, looking at him incredulously. "yes, professor potter, i'll be careful," you tease him. you know harry gets a little squirmy when you call him that outside of class, and it never fails to make you feel powerful.
"besides, i heard the theme is dress to impress, so you already know i'm gonna look so good," you joke, flipping your hair dramatically. harry's tenseness breaks, letting out a chuckle. "well, still. just…be safe." is all he manages to say as you walk with him to the door.
saying your goodbyes as you separate down the hall, you can still feel harry's eyes on you until you disappear around the corner.
the night of the party, you were still unsure if you wanted to go. when a couple girls from class saw you and asked if you were going, they ended up convincing you to come with them. so, you got changed into a flashy dress that fit you well, fixed up your hair and makeup a bit, and met them in the courtyard to walk to the slytherin common room together. they obsessively commented on your outfit, telling you just how good you looked and letting you know you'd have no problem finding a guy to snog tonight.
but, you don't want any guy tonight. if anything, you were walking slowly through the hallways hoping by some chance that harry would cross your path and see just how good you looked. but you knew you weren't that lucky.
upon arriving at the party, drinks are immediately pushed into your and your friends' hands. they were right about the party being massive, as every square foot of the slytherin common room was packed with slightly tipsy students of all ages dancing to the loud music. you had barely finished your first drink before your friends dragged you over to do shots with them, wincing at the burn it left in your throat afterwards.
as the night goes on, you're eventually separated from all the girls you came with. not on purpose, some of them were playing drinking games, some were dancing, and one had even left the party with a guy she was completely into. no hard feelings, everyone was just doing their own thing. you had a few shouting-over-the-music conversations with a couple classmates and drank another cup of the mysterious alcoholic punch being served before deciding to head back to your room. you informed one of your friends, who asked if you wanted her to come with you, but you insisted she stay.
entering the hallway is extremely sobering. the loud music and colorful lights made it easy to ignore the growing drunken sensation, but you were now nervously navigating the halls of hogwarts, slightly intoxicated, attempting to warm yourself up with your hands over your arms. you hadn't even thought to bring a jacket, of course, so you were shivering as you made your way back to your room.
not long after leaving the party, you turn the corner and come face to face with another person. a boy a year under you, though you couldn't remember his name or anything else about him. you're a bit startled, not expecting to see anyone else, but politely apologize and attempt to walk around him.
"hey. you were at the party, right?" he asks, stepping in front of you to prevent you from leaving. you're slightly annoyed by him already, but your intoxicated state makes you bite your tongue. "yeah, just on my way back to my room," you try to end the conversation there, taking another step to get around him.
but he gets in your way again, stepping even closer to you this time. "what's the rush? y'know you had every guy talkin' in there tonight? sure would be nice to take home the prize," he slurs into your face, your nose scrunching at his alcoholic breath. god, this kid's way more wasted than you.
"excuse me?" you scoff, turning your face away from him. he tries to put his hand on your waist but you slap it away as hard as you can, causing him to wince and give you an angry look. "i suggest you leave me the fuck alone," you announce firmly, stancing your feet apart as you get ready to defend yourself further.
just as this guy's about to try again, this time his hands going for your neck, a voice from down the hall echoes loudly, scaring you both. "hey!"
you both turn, and it's harry.
"i would further suggest you leave her alone, mr. williams," he announces as he swiftly walks towards you. the kid laughs him off. "mind your business, huh, potter? this doesn't involve you," he continues to slur, looking like he wants to fight as harry walks up to him, chest to chest.
"it does now. leave and you'll be lucky i don't have you expelled or rather arrested for sexually assaulting a fellow student on campus grounds after hours, while intoxicated might i add," harry spits at him, his eyes full of disgust and rage.
the kid falters a bit, but the alcohol still has him acting cocky, getting in harry's face. "yeah? or what," he asks daringly.
you get between them and put your wand, hidden in your dress, against the kid's throat, making him stiff with wide eyes. "touch him and i will gladly get expelled for hurting you in ways you couldn't even conceive of in your fucking nightmares. do you understand? get the fuck out of here!" you nearly shout at the kid, causing him to turn and run.
you sigh a breath of relief, but quickly begin to feel the anxiety return as you bring your wand down and look at harry.
you can feel your body shaking with anger and fear, and also shivering from how cold you hadn't realized you'd gotten. your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven, and nearly on the verge of tears. harry's eyes were still angry, but he gave you a sympathetic look. he promptly took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shivering frame, enveloping you in a hug in the process. it's hard not to let the tears flow just a bit as you rest your head in his chest. you felt so vulnerable with him in that moment.
"here, let's get you back to your room, yeah?" harry says softly, turning your shoulders and guiding you down the hall. you realize you had sobered up during the ordeal, your eyes focusing and walking straightening out as you follow the corridors. once harry begins guiding you down your hallway, you slow to look up at him with a curious expression.
"how do you know where my room is?"
harry's a bit stunned by your question, searching for an answer before you began to think more. "and, wait," you stop walking and turn to him. "how did you even find me?" you ask breathlessly. harry continues to look guilty as he searches for an answer. smirking, you pull his jacket on you closer.
"professor potter, if i didn't know better, i'd say you were watching me tonight," you tease him in a flirty voice. "surely that's not the case, is it?"
harry looks around you two nervously, clearly starting to feel anxious for his actions. all you could do was smirk. you knew he still liked you.
harry sighs, avoiding your eye contact with a completely red face. "look, i just had a bad feeling about that party, okay?" he says simply. you continue to stare at him with a knowing look. "i couldn't sleep tonight knowing something could've happened to you. something like that fucking kid…" harry gets worked up just thinking about it again before stopping himself and calming down. "i'm sorry. it was wrong of me, and completely inappropriate."
your smirk drops into a soft smile. you can't help but feel your stomach erupt into butterflies hearing him admit he was watching you tonight specifically to make sure you were safe.
you softly put your hand to his cheek, causing him to look at you. he looks apologetic, concerned, and sad, his eyes searching yours as he slightly leans into your touch.
"thank you, harry." you say just above a whisper, your voice genuine and loving.
he sighs again, a bit relieved, a bit sad. his hand goes for yours, holding it for just a moment before he gives it back to you, letting go as he looks towards your door.
"well," he starts off, his voice cracking. "i'll leave you here for the night,"
smiling, you nod and take a step towards your door. you slip his jacket off of you and hand it back to him with a grateful, warm smile. he returns the smile as you're opening your door and waving goodbye at him.
as you're getting ready for bed, you replay the events of tonight over and over. you imagine harry watching you leave your room without you having any clue, meeting up with your friends, leaving the party in a daze, attempting to escape that guy before harry decided he had to step in and protect you.
you felt a bit silly for ever thinking harry's crush on you had stopped. even his subtle clues weren't very subtle thinking back now. maybe back in year 5 you assumed you were crazy for thinking he was looking at you funny, but now, nearing 3 years later, and learning he's liked you the whole time, you couldn't deny his longing gaze.
laying in bed, you decided you had to properly thank harry in some way for tonight, and you knew exactly how.
the next day, you paid a special visit to diagon alley with a friend to buy something special for harry. when she asked why you would ever possibly buy something like that for yourself, you make up some story about needing it for a class. she doesn't believe you, but goes along with it anyway and continues to have fun with you on your sunday out shopping.
you head towards his office in the afternoon when he usually spends his time grading assignments and working on the following week's lesson plan. you practically had his schedule memorized after coming to study with him so often.
softly knocking on the door, harry lets out a, "come in,"
you enter the office and he smiles at you immediately before it falters, his eyes then landing on the wrapped box in your hands. "surprise," you say with a shy voice.
he lets out a huff, looking back at you with a disbelieving expression. "[y/n]..." he carries off.
"it's just a little something," you say as you walk towards his desk, setting it down carefully in front of him. "a thank you, for last night," you tell him.
his eyes move back and forth from the box to your eyes, not knowing what to say. a few moments pass before he stands. "[y/n], i can't accept this…" he sighs. "what i did last night, i mean…it shouldn't have happened that way," he says curtly.
you tilt your head to catch his gaze, giving him a warm smile. "you did nothing wrong," you reassure him. you gesture to the gift. "please," you insist.
harry's shoulders relax, giving you an embarrassed smile as he slides the box closer to him, admiring the wrapping. "this is gorgeous, did you do this?" he asks, pointing at the sparkly ribbon and personalized name card. you proudly smile and nod your head.
harry admires it for another moment before carefully untying the ribbon and lifting the lid off the box. he gasps at what he sees.
a signed, hardcover, gold leaf detailed first edition defense against the dark arts textbook from his favorite auror. he had talked to you about seeing it at the bookshop but not wanting to spend the money or not having the place to display it or whatever his excuse was. you had taken note of this comment and when you saw it wasn't as expensive as harry had made it seem you knew it was perfect.
"[y/n]...you didn't…" he utters, practically falling back in his chair as he continues to stare at the cover. you giggle fondly at his reaction. "go ahead, open it up," you tell him excitedly. he can hardly move, but he eventually takes the book out of the box and admires it in his hands. he flips the cover open, sees the signature, and smiles. then, he looks at the inside of the cover and his expression drops.
"i had it personalized, if that's okay with you," you ask anxiously. on the inside of the leather bound cover you had a pressing engraved that said 'harry james potter'.
harry's in shock, his fingers running across the pressing softly. "[y/n], this is…" he trails off, continuing to admire the book as he flips through it, landing back on the inside cover, admiring his name once more.
"thank you." harry says, looking at you with so much love in his eyes it makes your heart burst. it was worth every penny seeing him in awe in front of you like this.
"well, thank you," you respond, smiling, holding your arms behind your back.
harry abruptly stands up, stepping around his desk and pulling you in for a desperate hug. you're a bit surprised, your arms wrapping around his waist as he continues to pull you closer and closer.
after a minute or so of the most comforting hug you've experienced outside of last night in that hallway, harry separates from you only slightly to look down at you. your faces are close enough to feel the breath of the other person.
you just want to tell him, 'fuck it, who cares, nobody's here, just kiss me, please, release this tension', but before you can even consider it, harry breaks the silence.
"i still love you," he says so softly, his face wincing as the words fall from his lips. your breath hitches. love?
"fuck," harry mutters, almost stepping away from you until you pull him closer to you, putting your lips close enough to his they're nearly touching. "please. kiss me. just kiss me. please." you practically beg, your hand finding its way to harry's neck.
"[y/n], we can't, i can't–" "just once, please, maybe it'll stop if we just, please…" you interrupt him, hoping he understands what you're implying, your noses rubbing together.
harry takes a few moments before practically whimpering as he connects your lips to his, wrapping you in his arms tightly. you immediately melt into him, letting the kiss consume you as your hands pull harry closer to you.
it only takes a few seconds before harry has you up on his desk, his hands gripping your ass under your skirt. the cold of the wood on your exposed skin makes you gasp, and harry's tongue quickly slips past your lips.
it's everything you imagined, and the fact that this is happening in his office is just making you even more turned on. you had played this scenario in your head so many times, and it hardly felt real once it was actually happening. and on the desk you spent so many hours at, pining over him and fantasizing him taking you like he is right now.
after a few minutes of making out and needy groping through your clothes, harry pulls away breathlessly. opening your eyes you see he's completely flushed, his hair slightly messy as he nervously takes his hands off you.
you awkwardly clear your throat, your hands falling to your sides and resting back on the desk. harry takes a step away, straightening his tie and fixing his hair. you hop off his desk and adjust your skirt.
the silence between you is awkward, but there's just nothing to say. the kiss only left you wanting more, of course, it was pointless to ever hope it would quell your feelings in some way.
"well," harry begins, his voice shaky and quiet. "that didn't work."
you let out a nervous laugh, coughing to cover it up. "yeah…sorry." you mumble.
harry sighs. "no, i'm sorry. i'm technically your superior, i shouldn't be doing this to you. leading you on, flirting with you, for fuck's sake, following you around after hours…"
you shake your head. "look, i'm not kissing professor potter, okay? i like you, harry. i've liked you since i was 13. i don't want to ruin your position here either, and i'll stop if that's what you truly want…" you choke up just a bit before swallowing it back. "but, just, please, stop blaming yourself. i want this, too."
the silence returns, harry clearly thinking over what you said as his eyes stare off beside you. you're anxiously shifting your weight, watching his face get lost in his own thoughts.
"i can't risk this job," harry says finally. "i don't give a shit about the money, pay me everything in the world i would still want you…" he mumbles. you feel your stomach drop at this sentiment. you want him so, so badly. but…
"but…" harry says.
you smile at him sadly, knowing what's coming. "i can't let down bill, or mcgonagall, or any professors or students here who may actually still like me," he says with a dry laugh. "if we ever got caught, and i just know we would, and what would happen to you…i just–" "i know, harry," you interrupt him, taking a small step towards him.
he smiles at you sadly as well. "and i agree. it's not worth it. well, you're worth it, of course…" you say shyly, diverting your gaze before continuing. "but, it's too risky. you deserve to finish out this semester without that hanging over your head, y'know?"
harry stares at you lovingly, no attempt to hide his adoration for you in this moment. "you're truly incredible. you know that?" harry comments softly.
you respond by blushing and crossing your arms. he hums softly, his smile taking over his cheeks. "thank you, really, for everything, if things were any different, i wish…" harry stumbles. you smile at him again. "i know."
harry returns to his gift, admiring the book in his hands over and over before putting it on the bookshelf next to his desk. he admires it there for a while as well before thanking you again.
as you're getting ready to leave, harry stops you for a moment. "if you don't mind, i'd still love to help you in your other classes. and, just, remain friendly in general still, if possible…"
you melt again at his soft demeanor. harry's such a sweetheart it's heartbreaking. all you want is to kiss him again. it's all you've wanted since he stopped.
"of course."
it's the end of the semester, and you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand you're dying for a break from classes. you've done the best you have in years this semester, and it's exhausted you. but you're incredibly grateful, for a lot of things. your new friends, your rediscovered love for hogwarts and magic in general, your overall improved attitude and mentality.
with special thanks to a certain substitute professor…
harry. this semester was definitely a rollercoaster for you when it came to harry. though, towards the end, things fell into place a bit more as you both accepted and embraced your odd, yet effective routine. professional student-professor relationship in public; smitten, teasingly love-sick old classmates in the comfort of his office walls. nothing further than lingering hands, loving stares, and the occasional compliment towing the line of what's inappropriate and what isn't.
though the dynamic wasn't ideal, you grew to love it for what it was. a simple, longing love that wasn't exactly unspoken anymore, but sure felt like it each passing day as you both pretended that kiss never happened.
that kiss. you swear you think about it every day. you long for harry to grab you like that again, to slip his tongue past your lips again…sometimes, late at night, it's all you can think about. sometimes just the thought of it makes you need to touch yourself, remembering how desperate he was for you, the feeling of his lips on yours, sitting on his desk in his office, just the image of it from outside of your own perspective could bring you to your orgasm alone in your room.
to say you were anxiously counting down the days until classes were over and harry technically wasn't employed with hogwarts anymore was an understatement. though you hadn't spoken about it with him, you felt it was okay to maybe consider that he would want to continue things further with you once his substitution was over. you kept your guard up as you knew he could still be uncomfortable with it while you were a student in general. but a large portion of you was practically praying that wasn't the case. you physically couldn't resist him much longer.
you were staying on campus for christmas this year, mostly just to savor your last holiday here, but also to continue seeing harry if possible.
it was the last day of classes, and you learned you passed all your exams with flying colors. you showed up to dark arts class early to inform harry excitedly, and he congratulated you with the same level of excitement.
"i knew you could do it! i told you you were smart." he beams. "i am so, so proud of you, [y/n]."
you want to hug him so badly, he's helped you so much this semester, you wouldn't have cared enough to try and get these kinds of grades without his guidance. but it's too public, and the risk is too high, so you just settle on an awkward high five and laugh emptily.
as other students walk in, you both pretend the moment never happened, and you sit in your seat without looking up from the floor.
the class is simple and rather uneventful as it's mostly everyone's last class of the semester. harry actually hands out christmas cookies hagrid made for everyone, and they're mediocre in taste, but the designs are so adorable you can't resist finishing it.
harry gives you all a speech thanking the class for trusting him to teach this semester, and for being respectful of him and professor weasley's lessons. he talks about how he's always thought about being a professor, but actually ended up despising the paperwork, and just missed his old job, which caused the class to chuckle with him.
he dismissed everyone with a happy christmas, specifically towards you, of course.
your heart aches a little as you leave the classroom and head to your room. you're going to miss harry as a professor, even if it caused complications in other aspects, it was inspiring to see him be so intelligent, helpful, and supportive in class. of course you were biased, you always found him to be amazing, but something about watching him teach a young wizard how to do a spell correctly for the first time just made you admire him so deeply.
you decided to rest for the night, knowing harry would be here for at least another day to collect all his items and clean the classroom up for professor weasley. you could talk to him then, what exactly about you weren't sure just yet, but you knew you had to tie up these loose ends before they drove you mad.
the next afternoon, you're practically one of the only students roaming the halls. most everyone leaves the first day of break to go home, and by christmas there's only a handful of students left.
arriving at harry's office door, you admire it one last time. your little sanctuary away from the world.
you knock, but to your dismay, there's no answer.
you knock again, a bit louder, but still, nothing. you decide to peak in, and notice how barren the desk looks from afar.
fuck. there's no way harry's left without speaking to you first.
you quickly walk to the dark arts classroom just down the hall, hoping he's cleaning and organizing it, but find it empty and dark. your heart sinks. he's gone.
you slowly walk back to your room, deciding you'll grab your coat and visit hagrid to see if harry's with him there. you try not to let your disappointment overcome you, there's still a chance you could talk to him…
entering your room, you immediately head for your coat rack by the window. you start to slip it on when you hear your door close, knowing you left it open on purpose to quickly leave.
you turn around, and it's harry.
you gasp, immediately dropping the coat and running to him, jumping into a hug. he laughs at your reaction, but embraces you nonetheless.
"hi, love," he says softly, resting his head on top of yours. you could hardly contain yourself at the pet name. it communicated so much to you with so little effort.
you look up at him, barely able to believe what's happening. harry looks at you knowingly. this unspoken tension. it was going to be the death of you.
as harry begins leaning in, you crash your lips together with his, immediately engulfing him into a heated, wanting, needing kiss.
harry's more than happy to give in to you. it's clear he's thought about this just as much as you have. he finished all his professor duties as soon as he could so he could officially, finally, be yours.
you guide harry to your bed, pushing him onto it as he gives you an impressed look, clearly intrigued by your repressed desperation.
you crawl onto his lap, immediately pulling him back into the kiss. harry's hands are all over you, finally, after fantasizing about it every night in this very same bed for months.
the kiss is desperate, full of moaning and getting sloppier by the minute. harry's squeezing and slapping your ass so hard you whimper in his arms, your hands gripping his button up tightly.
"fuck, [y/n], need you so bad, please," harry moans into your kiss, his hands sliding up your back. you reach to take your shirt off, left in just a bra and tiny skirt, as you start untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.
harry's staring at you with hunger in his eyes. "do you even understand how badly i've wanted you? you and these fucking skirts, you must think i'm stupid." he growls, pulling at the hem of your skirt. you blush and stifle a giggle, overwhelmed with how insanely hot you found this to be.
"think that's funny? you think it was funny when i had to stand in class all day and not stare at your perfect legs through your robe? anytime i gave a lecture and just looking at you turned you into a needy slut," harry grabs your hair, turning your attention to him as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt with his other hand. "was that fun for you, hm? did you enjoy teasing me all semester?"
you can't say anything. all you can do is nod. you were so turned on you could hardly think straight.
"i bet it was," he says, examining your desperate expression, his words dripping with desire.
he pulls you in for another kiss, and you help him take off his shirt. his skin was warm, soft, and his shoulders were broad. you moved your lips to his neck, leaving an obvious bite just below his collar to finally mark what was yours.
harry groans, his hands reaching behind your back to swiftly undo your bra. he helps pull it off of you, marveling at your chest. "beautiful," he tells you before attaching his lips to your skin. you hold his head against you, savoring the feeling and sight of harry leaving hickeys along the soft skin of your boobs.
his hand cups one softly as his tongue circles your nipple, watching you through his glasses as you melt into his hands. "harry…" you moan, your hand running through his soft hair.
he continues, starting to suck on your nipple softly with closed eyes, his other hand pulling up your skirt to feel your wetness through your panties.
you immediately whimper and lean into harry's touch, desperate for this for so long. "f-fuck," you stutter breathlessly.
harry smiles, taking his lips off of you to look up at your blushing face. "so wet already," he smirks.
you cover his face with your hands, embarrassed, giggling, continuing to further lean into his hand for pleasure.
he laughs and removes your hands, his eyes full of lust just looking at you in his lap.
"i need you, now," he insists, pushing you further onto his growing erection through his slacks. you let out a breathy moan feeling just how hard he is already. he's just as desperate as you've been for him.
"is that okay?" he asks carefully, watching for your reaction. you laugh a bit. "please. i've waited long enough." you joke.
you help harry take his pants and boxers off, as well as your skirt and panties, leaving you both naked in your room.
he sat back down on the bed, and invited you into his lap again. "just like this is perfect," he says, guiding your hips and admiring your body as you sit with his cock between you two, your eyes barely able to look away from it.
harry pulls you in for a kiss, his hands traveling over your body and stopping at your pussy again, his hand feeling just how wet you are. he moans into your kiss along with you and begins to slip his fingers inside of you, slowly, letting you react to him.
harry pushes further and further into you until you're practically riding his hand, your kiss barely kept together with you bouncing, desperate for more. "please," you insist, your hand gently grasping for his precum soaked cock.
harry smiles, gently pulling his fingers away before letting you guide yourself onto him. slowly at first, you enjoy the feeling of harry's cock stretching you open, whimpering as he watches you intently, his hands supporting your hips. eventually you feel yourself take him completely, your hips flush with his as you start to slowly grind your hips up and down.
harry's a mess, barely able to hold himself together just watching you adjust to his cock. your face twisting in pleasure, your soft whimpers, the tight feeling of your pussy squeezing around him, it was almost too much already.
"fuck, baby," harry's moaning, his hands gripping your hips for sanity. you can't help but giggle, you just love seeing him like this for you after dreaming about it for so long. he's so lost in pleasure already, his jaw slack and eyes dropping.
"i-i'm already, fuck [y/n], you're just so," harry can barely get the words out. hearing him moan your name so filthily motivated you to move your hips quicker, letting your tits bounce in his face as you continued to pick up speed.
"fuck, fuck, fuck," harry's panicking, you can tell he's already trying to hold back his orgasm. you find it extremely hot just how quickly you can bring him to this point. so hot it brings you closer to your orgasm with him, putting your hands on his face to look up at you.
"you feel so fucking good, harry," you tell him, your head rolling back in pleasure. he's in awe of you, his eyes memorizing every single inch of you as you continue to ride him.
"please, please, can you, um…" he takes a second between his words to moan. "please, can you call me professor potter…" he asks, clearly embarrassed by the request.
you rub his blushing cheeks between your hands, his question only making you more turned on. you loved knowing he was just as into the teacher/student dynamic as you had been.
"your cock feels so…so fucking good inside of me, professor potter," you moan, resting your forehead against harry's as you slow your pace, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of him.
harry's eyes roll back, sinful moans escaping his lips as his head falls forward, watching you ride him slowly as he begins slightly thrusting up into you. he looks back up at your eyes, exasperated. "i'm gonna cum if you don't stop," he quietly warns you, clearly feeling a bit guilty at his eagerness.
you smile. "please, please cum for me professor. i've been such a good girl for you this semester, haven't i?" you tease him.
harry groans pathetically. "so, so good," his eyes are closed, his face twisting with each thrust. "then cum for me, please, give it to me," you beg him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel your stomach tensing from your own orgasm.
harry's eyes pop open, his gaze on you softening as his hands find your waist, gripping onto you desperately. "[y/n]..." he moans your name again, and you can feel yourself tipping over the edge. your pace becomes a bit slower as your legs start shaking.
harry moans as he starts to spill inside of you, the warm sensation fueling your orgasm as you both hold onto each other tightly, riding out your highs together.
after a few moments of slow grinding and weak kissing, you carefully stand up from your position on harry's lap. you guide him to your bathroom, where you help each other clean up, with a few more inevitable kisses and longing hugs along the way.
you get dressed into different clothes, and offer harry some as well. he declines, instead putting his clothes back on as he tells you he has to bring all his supplies back to his house.
you help him button his shirt back up and tie his tie before pushing yourself to ask the dreaded question you didn't want to know the answer to.
"so," you say softly. "what now?"
harry looks down at you lovingly, but he isn't quite smiling. "well, i'm no longer employed here," he states. you nod your head slowly, allowing him to continue.
"so, while it's not technically wrong, i'd still like to try and take this off campus, if possible," harry chuckles.
you give him a surprised look. "you want to see me again?" you ask quietly. harry can't help but laugh at you, kissing your forehead as he holds your cheek.
"you have no idea," is all he says before he leans in for another kiss, holding you close, knowing you're finally his.
#harry potter#harry potter au#harry potter fandom#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter x reader#golden trio#harry james potter#harry potter fluff#harry potter imagine#harry potter x y/n#harry james potter imagine#harry potter oneshot#harry potter headcanon#harry james potter x reader#harry james potter x y/n#harry james potter fluff#harry james potter oneshot#harry james potter smut#hp smut#hp fluff#hp fanfiction#hp fanfic#hp#hp fandom#marauders fandom#smut#mine#harry potter x you#x reader#harry potter moodboard
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Four days.
You had four days to tell Qiu Lin you were in love with them, and you just missed your first opportunity.
Part 1
The rickety "hideout" fort creaked mournfully under you as you climbed its weathered wall, pulling yourself toward the top. Pale, sun-bleached wood like dry bones brushed your skin, and you were careful with your hand placement to avoid splinters for the thousandth time.
The fort was a skeleton of your childhood, each wooden beam a brittle rib holding together a heart that beat with memories. The wood was warping in some places, and every nail was colored with rust. At some point over the years, you had to get creative with your foot placement because the rock wall was missing its original number of steps.
You could still hear Mrs. Lin's voice from a year ago, requesting Mr. Lin to tear it down, calling it a "safety hazard." It absolutely was—is—but that didn't stop Qiu, Tamarack, and you from protesting incessantly over keeping it up. The two adults eventually relented, much to your trio's pleasure of keeping a piece of your childhood a bit longer.
As you reached the top, you thought distantly that it'd likely come down now that Qiu wouldn't be here, the true reason for it still standing gone. Nostalgic bitterness coated your throat like a sour film with the understanding that next fall, this yard would likely be empty, and this fort would be nothing but another memory.
"Hey stranger," a familiar voice called, pulling you back from the brink of your common stormy thoughts. Your eyes snapped up, and there they were—Qiu, grinning down at you with that easy, sunlit smile and amused dark eyes, crouched against the post of the opening.
It was like everything else dimmed. Your breath caught, and for a moment, your mind went blank, as if spooked by their very sight, as if you had forgotten why you were here.
They were just as beautiful as you remembered. Even more so. Their hair was half up, dark and loose, a few strands framing their face. Their grin settled into a gentle smile as they reached out a hand to help you up. Schooling your features to be more nonchalant, you readily grasped it, relishing the warmth that spread up your arm from the contact.
"Hey yourself," you replied cooly while climbing into the hideout. Your nose was filled with the scent of old wet wood and earth as you righted yourself and briefly took in the interior. The thing hadn't changed since the last time the three of you were in it—a shrine to simpler days.
The ceiling was bordered with a string of battery-operated twinkle lights—long since burned out, victims of time and the elements. A rouge blanket lay crumpled in the corner abandoned. Some well-worn comics and magazines were scattered around it haphazardly as if the group had left in a hurry and just never returned.
No time travel was involved, yet it felt like only yesterday—this time capsule of youth.
Qiu settled themselves against the far wall, stretching their legs, and you did the same across from them. There was no way the two of you could stand in the space anymore. That ended around age 14, but somehow, you kept coming back, all of you. It was like a touchstone, a headquarters.
Now, the small fort was comfortably cramped with your legs stacked side-by-side. Qiu shoved their hands in their jacket pockets and leaned their head back to look at the ceiling. It was a routine of sorts; no words are needed right away. No expectation of entertainment in the slightest. Just the quiet calm between two people who knew each other better than anyone else.
"Oh, right!" Qiu exclaimed, suddenly remembering, twisting around to reach into the back pocket of their jeans. You couldn't help but smirk; it was so like Qiu to forget why they'd asked you to come in the first place. Even still, you were buzzing with curiosity.
After a moment of fumbling, they produced something, hiding it behind their back, and paused for dramatic effect with a grin. You laughed and nudged their leg.
"Come on, you're killing me here, and it's getting cold!" The sun had already dipped below the tree line, blanketing the world in the blues and purples of twilight. It had also taken the warmth, and you could start to see your breath puff small, visible clouds. As you waited, you could faintly smell smoke on the gentle wind of someone burning leaves. Qiu chuckled in response.
"Okay, okay, I've made you suffer long enough." With a self-assured smirk, they revealed what they'd been hiding. Dangling from their hand was a keychain—a small, smiling dolphin. It spun lazily on its metal ring like a leaf caught in a gentle current.
You blinked, then reached out to take it, turning it over and brushing your thumb over the warm, smooth plastic. The words were engraved in delicate cursive on the dolphin's side: "Prism Vista City."
Where Qiu was attending school.
It had been quite a story of how Qiu ended up there. Last year, seemingly out of the blue, back from the dead, an old childhood friend, Baxter Ward, had reached out to all of you wanting to make amends and reconnect. Somehow, that led Qiu and their parents to California to visit Baxter and see the university there.
Unsurprisingly, Qiu fell in love with the city. With its warm weather, bright lights, and something always going on—ever-changing, it was right up Qiu's alley. Moreover, the university held a highly reputable program that Qiu wanted to study, and they already knew someone in the area.
Of course, they had been accepted. Of course, they had decided to go. You had been happy for them. Thrilled, even. It had seemed like such a grand adventure—a reunion, a new beginning. How could you ever be upset about that?
Your fingers tightened around the dolphin, bending its top fin slightly.
"For your keys!" Qiu said with some pride, crossing their arms. That's right, you had car keys now. At the beginning of summer, your mom relinquished ownership of the old vehicle to you and bought herself a newer one. It had made you feel invincible, like a superhero, driving Qiu and Tamarack around on those late, warm nights with the windows down and music blasting. Another memory you held dear.
"Thanks! It'll be my first one, actually. This was really thoughtful, Qiu. You didn't have to get me anything, though," You gave them a genuine smile, clutching the little gift to your chest.
Qiu beamed at you like they'd just won the lottery. For a moment, that familiar flutter filled your stomach. You could tell them now. You could get it over with and let the words out into the open air, but then what? The thought flickered, and you brushed it aside.
What mattered was that Qiu was here now, and time was slipping through your fingers like water. You could tell them how you felt, risk losing them forever, or stay silent and lose them just the same. You opened your mouth to speak, but Qiu beat you to it.
"I absolutely needed to! I was at the pier with Micah and some of our other friends—you remember me telling you about Micah, right? Well, anyway, it's actually a pretty funny story. We'd all just got out of class, and Kacy said…" The rest of Qiu's story had faded into radio static.
Your eyes trailed down to the dolphin with its mocking smile. Right. Qiu was building a life there. They already had new friends, like you knew they would. Even outside of Golden Grove, they still shined.
They were already building new memories. Memories that didn't include you.
Like watching a movie that you already knew the ending to, you felt yourself drift away from the moment, just like everything else in this damn town.
Just like everything else in your life.
If only you were more like them, brave enough to leave, to chase the unknown. But you weren't. You weren't smart like that, determined—ambitious. You had chosen to stay, to settle, and that's where your life remained buried, while Qiu's only grew like vines reaching for the sun.
"Hey, you okay?" Came Qiu's voice. You finally snapped your head up to look at them, a dull ache forming behind your eyes. They wore an amused smile until it melted off their face at whatever expression they saw on yours.
You tried to school it into something more pleasant and failed miserably. Qiu's face morphed into concern, and they sat up straighter. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me."
You shook your head, shoving the dolphin deep into your coat pocket, where it felt like a lead weight. "It's nothing. I'm just super stressed about this last exam I have to do tonight," you lied.
The words tasted bitter in your mouth. At one point in your adolescence, lying came as naturally to you as breathing. Lying to teachers, parents, and, in one case, the authorities, but never Tamarack and Qiu. Nowadays, lying comes out in 'I'm doing great's and 'Yeah, I love school!'
A rock settled in your stomach, watching Qiu nod in understanding, believing you. "Man, I feel you there. I still have an essay due at midnight," they commiserated.
"How much do you have left to do?" You inquired earnestly, happy to have the shift in conversation. Qiu's eyebrows pinched together, and they winced.
"I, uh, sort of haven't started it yet," they confessed with a sheepish grin. "I wanted to see you first. Plus, there's no way it'll take all night anyway."
"Qiu!" You groaned exasperatedly. Their eyes darted away guiltily, and you reached down to lightly smack their leg, earning another wince. "Well, that settles it." You shuffled towards the exit and began to climb down the rock wall. From behind, you heard Qiu mutter something and then sigh.
"Aw, come on! I just got back. Just a little longer?" they pleaded. Your feet landed with a soft thud on the grass below, and you turned to look up at them, leaning over the rail, just like the first time you met—except you were not as merciful as your ten-year-old self.
"Only one of us gets to be the burnout, Qiu Lin, and that role is already taken so—" you claimed with mock pride while putting your hands on your hips. In the same instance, you jutted a thumb behind you to their house. "Get to it."
Qiu's smile faltered. They never liked it when you joked about that. But it was true—you were the former gifted kid turned crash-out stoner while Qiu was…well, Qiu.
"That's not…" Qiu began, but you cut them off.
"If you don't start now, I'll make sure mom doesn't bring her pumpkin pie tomorrow," you threatened with a devilish smirk. Qiu laughed and narrowed their eyes.
"You wouldn't," they challenged.
"Find out," you shot back. Qiu's eyes widened with panic.
"Alright! Okay!" They gave a resigned sigh. "You know too many of my weaknesses; you've become too powerful." With a final sigh, they swung over the rail and jumped to the ground. You laughed at their antics. The fall wasn't nearly as high as when you were kids, but Qiu still managed to make it look daring.
In the deepening twilight, you stood there, face to face, the stars now bright and clear above you. They seemed closer here, sharper, like little diamonds twinkling in an onyx net. One of the things you loved most about Golden Grove was the minimal light pollution.
You, Qiu, and Tamarack had spent so many nights stargazing. Even more so with just the two of you. It felt like it had been yours and Qiu's thing—a private ritual. Qiu followed your gaze, and their smile grew as they looked up to the heavens.
"Jeez, I forgot how bright the stars are. You don't get that in Prism Vista," they said, almost wistfully.
"Yeah, that's cities for you," you murmured, wondering if they had looked up at the same night sky in those last few months and thought of you.
"True," Qiu replied. "Then again, with so much to do there, who needs stars? We used to stare at them for hours just to keep from going out of our minds with boredom." They chuckled softly, still gazing upward, sounding so casual.
Your heart ached. This thing that had meant so much to you was a distraction to them. For you, it had never been about the stars. It had always been about the person beside you, the one who had put them in the sky.
"…Qiu?" Your voice came out small, almost fragile. They lowered their head from the sky to look down at you, a kind smile gracing their face. Silence stretched thickly between the two of you.
Qiu's brow softened, and their smile shifted into something gentler, sending a flush to your cheeks and making your heart race. You stepped back, wussing out from whatever you were originally going to say. "Uh, we'll be over around three tomorrow," you said instead, stumbling over your words. "Mom wants us to help." Qiu blinked, momentarily thrown off.
"Oh, right. Yeah, I'll let mom know," they nodded, still looking slightly confused. You turned, eager to escape, but Qiu continued. "You don't have to go, though! If you're not busy—I mean, you could help me with this essay?" they asked, hopefully.
You turned back with a tight smile. "No, I need to get back to do that exam, and besides, you know we'd never get anything done, and then my threat would be pointless because I'm the one who distracted you," you laughed, then added, "Thanks again for the gift," You held up the dolphin and quickly shoved it back in your pocket. Qiu nodded, half-smiling.
"Yeah, you're probably right. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then." With your own nod, you turned and headed in the direction you came.
"Love you!" Qiu called after you when you were halfway across the yard.
The words flowed through you, brushing delicately against your heart like a breeze, but you didn't answer, letting the crunch of leaves underfoot drown out the silence.
You pretended not to hear as you went, knowing it wasn't that kind of love and you couldn't say it back this time. That was boundary of your lying.
"I love you too," you whispered into your scarf as you went, clutching the keychain harder.
This was going to be the hardest Thanksgiving break of your life.
Part 3
#ugh these poor bbs#I say as I continue write angst lollll#our life#our life: now & forever#olnf#our life now and forever#qiu lin#olnf qiu#qiu lin x reader#fanfic#gb patch games
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Everything happens for a reason ~ Alexia putellas x reader
Author note: The poll was close but I’ve decided to do it as parts as it’s easier for me to get regular smaller posts out with my work and things but I hope you enjoy❤️
⚠️ suggestive themes, slight smut, pregnancy, failed ivf mentions
——
The sun light pierced your blinds, bathing your room in a gentle yellow glow. As your eyes fluttered open, you were met with the beautiful site of your wife’s naked, tattooed back asleep next to you. You knew she’d be tired, as were you after your late night activities that went on into the early hours of the morning, needing to make the most of your time together before a gruelling 2 months likely without seeing each other at all.
You admired the woman next to you, and the way that the light made her tanned skin look ethereal. Tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ears, you pressed a light kiss to her cheek but as you went to bend back up, you felt an unusual lurch in your stomach. Rising immediately, you went to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. After gagging for a couple of seconds, you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, one that surely belonged to your girlfriend.
“¿estas bien mi amor?” she questioned with a soft look of concern present on her features.
“Si carino estoy bien I think it’s just nerves because of how soon the World Cup is and the pressure that I’m going to be under.” you replied patting her hand that rested on your shoulder.
“Ok if you’re sure let’s get some water” she exclaimed, offering her hand and using her other to lift you by the hips.
As you entered the kitchen, she quickly made you water and a warm cup of coffee which seemed to work pretty well to soothe your aching stomach, a sure sign that this wasn’t a bug but simply nerves.
——
A couple of hours passed and you were feeling almost completely better which definitely helped in reducing your girlfriend’s anxiety. She had helped you with all the finishing touches to packing your bag so that you were now completely ready to go to the airport. Despite the original plan being for you to get a taxi to the airport, after this morning Alexia insisted she drive you in her car, claiming that she could easily divert her taxi to take her to her camp from the airport. After a large discussion, filled with many kisses, you finally agreed.
You planned to leave at 8am but it was currently 7:30 so with half an hour to spare the two of you were cuddled up on the sofa, with Nala settled asleep across both of your laps.
“I’m going to miss you so much amor” alexia whispered into your neck, tightening her grip around you.
“I’ll miss you too Ale, but I’ll see you in the final, when we both get there” you replied, kissing her cheek.
“Hmm” she hummed into you, her hands creeping up your jumper and onto the bare skin beneath it.
“what do you think you’re doing love” you giggled as her cold hands made contact with your exposed midsection.
“Mmm gonna miss you so much” she mumbled as she pulled you into her further, startling poor Nala who preceded to fall into the rug, showing her annoyance with a small bark. At this point, you were now straddling her hips, and she was leaving open mouth kisses on your neck on the marks she’d left last night. She then carefully slotted her thigh in between your legs, trying to make contact though the layers of fabric between her legs and your pussy.
“Ale I need to get ready to go soon or else I’ll miss my check in.” You reminded her but she seemed unfazed as her hand reached your breasts and began to massage them. You moaned as she reached your nipples, allowing her to keep going despite the more logical side to you saying no. However, you draw the line when her hands reach down into your sweatpants to touch your pussy. “Alexia putellas segura you are like a teenage boy are you always horny?” you questioned, whilst simultaneously trying to escape her newfound grip on your hips.
“No I just love you so much bebita and I’m going to miss you and these” she said groping your breasts again.
“Ale stop it I mean it we have to go” you say sternly, finally managing to escape her grasp.
“Fine” she huffed like a child being scolded by their parent. She made a move to stand up but not before giving your ass a smack as she shuffled past you.
“You little-“ you remarked as you began to chase her, Nala joining in with her mami’s playing.
After a painful 15 minutes of Alexia touching you in anyway she can, you finally made it to the car with all of your stuff and Alexia of course opting to carry as much of your stuff as humanly possible, the princess treatment ever present as always. And of course once you had begun your journey, Alexia had placed her hand on your thigh for the entire 30 minutes.
Once you finally reached your destination of the airport, Alexia parked up her Cupra and promptly strolled around the other side of the car to open the door and offer her hand to you so you could get out. Hand in hand, you both ventured to the car trunk to collect your bags, and of course Alexia carried as much as possible; ever the gentlewoman.
So you walked over to the airport hand in hand. After unloading your stuff into the baggage section, it was time to say goodbye to your girlfriend for the next two months. What you hadn’t expected was for the tears to form in your eyes so easily.
“Amor are you crying” alexia asked, her eyes slightly glassy too.
“Yes sorry my love” you responded, letting the tears fall without restraint now as she held you tight in her arms, just had she had after every failed IVF attempt.
“Don’t be sorry I’m just shocked you don’t normally get this emotional I’ll see you soon I promise cariño” she stated with a pitiful smile.
“I think I’m just having one of those days my love I’m really going to miss you” you replied
“And I you guapa” she smiled.
With one last hug, the two of you parted ways and you headed to security and baggage check, boarding pass in hand and unsettling feeling in your stomach.
Once you boarded the plane, you quickly found your seat, it was next to a woman and a small child. Placing your stuff in the overhead storage, you sat down by the window staring into abyss. Around 20 minutes into the flight, the unease in your stomach returned and you suddenly felt bile begin to rise up in your throat. Noticing your discomfort, the woman next to you spoke up.
“are you alright love” she questioned with a maternal glint in her eyes.
“Oh- yes sorry just feeling a bit ill” you replied hesitantly.
“would you like travel sickness tablets?” She asked with a smile.
“Oh no thank you I don’t usually get travel sick” you assured her.
“Well haha I thought the same until I was pregnant with this one here” she said pointing at the toddler asleep next to her.
“I was great with travelling but then I just started to feel sick every time I entered a moving vehicle” she chuckled.
“Oh wow I’m sure I’m not pregnant though” you offered weakly.
“Probably but you never know” she rebounded.
“Actually I took a test the other week we were trying for a while, but after the last negative we’ve decided to give it a break” you replied with a hint of sadness.
“Ah I see but those box tests aren’t always correct, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping here but given what you’ve told me maybe it’s worth taking another” she professed.
“Maybe” you said weakly, offering a small smile.
Throughout the journey your thoughts spiralled, what if you were pregnant and the test had been wrong? How would you explain this to your coaches, to Alexia? The sickness persisted, you excused yourself to the bathroom once or twice, but nothing but dry heaving occurred. The likely reality of your predicament began to settle in and what felt like an extensive flight, despite the fact it was only 2 hours, the plane touched town in rainy England and as you stepped out of the plane, all that you felt was dread.
#woso#woso imagine#woso x reader#espwnt#fcb femeni#alexia putellas#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#barcelona femeni#espwnt x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#women’s football
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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I
Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+
WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.
An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.
⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
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I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe
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Let's just get to the point, shall we?
Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.
Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts. Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts. Nice try, chum. Game on. Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying. ...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen. "It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair. You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea." Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."
And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins. "Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze. Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven? So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.
Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle. You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness. Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.
At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh? ...surely Nancy is not still with --
"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"
You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.
But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.
You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other.
Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy. Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.
And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway. It's the Bauman way.
He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"
You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."
Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught.
"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers. "Name."
You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."
Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."
"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously. Eek, you think.
"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.
And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.
"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening." "The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking. "You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats. Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed." Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night." You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe." "But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate. All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night. Yeah, thought so. Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.
Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned. To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy. Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug.
Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion. So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.
When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures.
Fuck, you literally just got here.
But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense. "STEVE?" "NANCY...?" And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.
#steve harrington angst#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington smut
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Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons
Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State
Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.
Writing an Origin Story Mission for the Shadow Dragons
Now that we have dealt with our World State, it’s time to pick Rook’s background. When I first learned that there would be six factions to choose from, I was honestly very ecstatic. You’re telling me we’re getting six different origin stories for Rook? Did BioWare finally listen to the fans’ wish to get one more game with DAO-style prologue missions before the big main plot begins? Then I learned that six of the companions you meet would represent one of those respective factions, and I was like “Amazing, so you will definitely have one party member with whom you can at least align interests and goals from the start.”
What we ended up getting was…sort of something in the middle. Your backstory is brought up and you get quite a lot of unique dialogue regarding your faction. If you’re a Shadow Dragon, there’s a lot of Minrathous dialogue tailored to you specifically. If you’re a Grey Warden, you’re having an absolute field day whenever the Blight is involved, which is…a huge chunk of the game.
But there was…something missing for me. You see, when we start the game, we’re immediately thrown into this epic mission where Rook, Varric, and Harding find Neve and race to stop Solas. It feels very much like we’re starting somewhere in the middle rather than at the beginning. And that, in my humble opinion, is due to the lack of a unique origin story that you can actually play through. So, here’s what the next few parts of this hypothetical rewrite of Veilguard will focus on: creating six unique playable origin stories that would very much be doable without the vampiric leech known as “development hell” hovering over you. This post will focus solely on the Shadow Dragon origin story, so stay tuned for the others. I’m aware of how long it might take between posts, but I want to make sure I do this the right way.
Creating Rook
We start the game, which immediately kicks off Varric’s opening narration. But instead of Varric talking about Solas immediately, we’re gonna set the stage for the general state of Northern Thedas: with the South experiencing a few years of relative peace, the North is a wholly different story: Tevinter and the Qunari have engaged in a bloody and brutal all-out war, the Grey Wardens are growing more reclusive, strange reality warping occurs in Arlathan Forest, a part of the Antaam broke off and is now occupying Antiva and Rivain, strange whispers arise from the Grand Necropolis, basically, everything is in chaos. But Varric is certain that one person is the key to all this. Cue the distant howling of a wolf and six red eyes. Cut to black.
Now we get to customise Rook and choose our faction. As the title of this post suggests, we’re taking the Shadow Dragon route. The backstory text, however, is going to be different to the one we get in DAV. You see, when reading through those backstories, I got the feeling that all of them sounded like outlines for what could have been the origin story quest. I am actually 100% confident that BioWare planned on including prologue missions at one point but had to scrap them due to development hell reasons. And all of the six summaries essentially boil down to “you upset some higher authority and now your faction wants you out of the spotlight.” All the choices regarding Rook’s personality have already been made for us. Playing this actual backstory allows us to roleplay in a roleplaying game, which…shocking, I know, but here me out. Instead, the origin text we get when we click on the Shadow Dragons is simply going to be:
“You are a Shadow Dragon. This underground resistance opposes corrupt rulers and slavery in Tevinter. Coming from all walks of life, they are determined to bring justice to the people. As a member of House Mercar, a renowned Soporati family renowned on the battlefield against the Antaam, you have much influence to bring, and much to lose.”
That’s just the small little snippet we see when hovering over the option. But that’s all we’re gonna get for now. There is no mention yet of Rook’s personality as we’ll get to shape it ourselves a little bit. So, we customise our Rook, finalise our massive World State, and click on the play button at last.
Varric’s narration continues, just like in DAV, but this time, he’s going to give us our chosen faction’s backstory. We get a recap on how Dorian and Maevaris founded the Lucerni shortly after the war with Corypheus and how much of a ray of hope this group was in the twisted and corrupt society of the Tevinter Imperium. But then, some of the more powerful magisters began to heavily push against them, eventually leading to Maevaris being framed for treason and losing her seat in the Magisterium. She took all the blame on herself so that Dorian would be able to retain a spotless reputation and continue their work on the great political stage. Maevaris took the remaining Lucerni underground and formed the Shadow Dragons, continuing their work under a different name. Now unbound by political restrictions, the Shadow Dragons are free to take more radical measures in their fight against oppression and slavery. And Varric is confident that the perfect candidate to go against the bigger threat can be found in this group.
The Shadow Lair
Our story begins in Minrathous, in the underground base of the Shadow Dragons. And right off the bat, we’re making a change regarding said base’s location. In DAV, it stands in a random building somewhere in Dock Town that pretty much anyone could access. I get that they were probably going for the “hide in plain sight” approach, but let’s actually have some fun here.
In this rewrite, the Shadow Dragons are literally operating from the underground. Now, Minrathous’ underground system has two things that are very beneficial for a secretive rebellious organisation:
Vast catacombs. The catacombs of Minrathous are so massive that they can store food to survive years of siege. Minrathous, like so many cities and settlements in Tevinter, is built on the bones of Elvhenan. You can easily get lost in those catacombs.
Gigantic sewers. The sewers are arguably even more treacherous than the catacombs, because we have seen in Tevinter Nights what can lurk there. Imagine the sewers of the greatest city in the world, the greatest magical city in the world. Surely it comes with its own set of urban legends akin to the sewer gator. But in a city like Minrathous, those legends are probably true. Failed magical experiments, lyrium-infused mutations, abominations of former mages who failed some twisted blood magic experiment, possessed objects; all this can be found in Minrathous’ sewers. Dangerous for everyone, and therefore perfect for the Shadow Dragons.
The Shadow Dragons operate from a place called "The Shadow Lair”, a section of an underground district known simply as “The Undercity”. That’s where all the poor and forgotten retreat if they wish to disappear from the world, or criminals who flee the Imperium’s justice system. A dangerous but also perfect place.
NOTE: For the duration of the prologue, Rook will be referred to by the name of Mercar, as “Rook” is the name they give themselves after disappearing from the scene.
Depending on what race Mercar is, the stakes vary:
If Mercar is a human, they are the direct heir of House Mercar, destined to take over the family name one day. If Mercar is a human mage, they are currently in the process of getting their family appointed to Laetan status, which will give them more political power and influence.
If Mercar is a dwarf, they are an adopted scion of House Mercar.
If Mercar is an elf or a qunari, they are an official slave of House Mercar, but it’s made pretty clear in the beginning that House Mercar’s slaves are slaves in name only, while actually being more akin to paid servants. House Mercar simply refers to them as slaves to stay under the Magisterium’s radar and actually uses them to pass on information to the Shadow Dragons.
I was personally disappointed that DAV didn’t really touch on Tevinter’s slavery system. It felt a bit like I was treated with kid gloves and not given the trust to being able to handle dark topics. But Tevinter, as has been established in all DA media before DAV, is a pretty dark place for anyone who isn’t a human mage. And it’s important to depict that as it shows the stakes and just how rotten of a society the Imperium is. We need to see what the Shadow Dragons are actually fighting for. It’s not enough to just tell us how much a freedom fighter group we are, no, we need to see it.
Meeting the Leaders of the Shadow Dragons
For the sake of this playthrough, our Mercar is going to be a human mage, and thus not only the direct heir to the house but also one who can elevate it to Laetan status. We have a lot to lose, so we must be extra careful in this precarious situation.
So Mercar meets with the leaders of the Shadow Dragons, namely Maevaris and the Viper. From this conversation, we get the general gist of what’s about to happen and why we are here: House Mercar decided to get a bit more involved with the Shadow Dragons after both parties discovered a massive plot for something big involving Minrathous’ vast slave population. Whatever it is, it’s happening somewhere in Dock Town, and we are to rendezvous with Neve Gallus, a local and renowned detective, to get to the bottom of this.
Exploring the Shadow Lair
After the conversation, we get to have a quick look around the Shadow Lair, where we can instigate a small series of encounters:
We can talk to Maevaris some more and learn about her past and her motivation behind what used to be the Lucerni.
We can talk to the Viper and learn more about him, how he’s usually running operations and that he’s from an Altus house. But that’s about everything you can learn about him at this point in time.
We can meet Lorelei and learn about her being one of the city elves Loghain sold to Tevinter all the way back in DAO. She will give a few remarks on how the Hero of Ferelden dealt with the Alienage and how she and Alistair made it a more just place.
NOTE: For this rewrite’s hypothetical playthrough, the Hero of Ferelden is a Human Noble who romanced Alistair and became Queen of Ferelden. She is now searching for a cure for the Calling.
We can have a bit of a look at the Undercity and just see how much of a poor and dark place it is. This is the gutter, no, this is below the gutter. The people here wish to disappear. They are miserable, most of them have given up hope. The Shadow Dragons are the only ones who actually care about them.
Since the Undercity is below modern Minrathous, we can see traces of ancient elven architecture on display, including mosaics and frescoes.
An Old Friend
Just as we’re about to leave for Dock Town, a familiar face strides into the Shadow Lair: Varric Tethras. Yes, we actually get to see Rook’s first meeting with Varric here! Maevaris greets and introduces him to us (and we actually get to know that Varric and Maevaris are family, which DAV kind of glossed over, thank you very much). Mercar gets to have a first chat with Varric, where he assess our personality. This vibe check is what allows us to determine Rook’s general personality: are we diplomatic, humorous, or aggressive? I fully get that Varric wouldn’t pick an evil person to fight against Solas, but we should still have some kind of roleplay room regarding Rook’s way of thinking and speaking.
Varric’s purpose in these prologues is very similar to Duncan’s in DAO. He’s the one who recruits you into the larger fight and acts as a mentor figure for a while. I was actually fully expecting that to be the case in the actual game when we were told that Varric recruits Rook into the fight against Solas. Well, he did, but I would have liked to see it! Alas, we shall do so here!
Varric stays behind in the Shadow Lair while we go off and do our thing.
Entering Dock Town
Dock Town is pretty much right above the Undercity, the gutter above the actual gutter. The entrance to the Shadow Lair is quite hidden with enchantments, known only to Shadow Dragons and their associates.
Dock Town is going to stay pretty much exactly as we see it in the game. If there is one place in Minrathous where everyone could mingle without being necessarily immediately prosecuted, it’s that place (which is probably why that’s the only part of Minrathous we see in the game, but I digress). However, there will be one major change: slavery is still a thing.
Dock Town is…well…a place where ships dock. That includes ships of slave traders and prisoners of war. In this rewrite, Tevinter is still locked into a war with the Qunari, so there will be a lot of that reflected in the environment. As we walk through Dock Town, we see guards on high alert, slaves and prisoners being led away in chains. We’re doing some important environmental storytelling here that lets us know exactly why Tevinter is a place that needs to be liberated and changed so desperately.
Meeting Neve Gallus
We find Neve Gallus at the Cobbled Swan. Depending on dialogue choices, we might or might not have heard of her up to this point. I think it would be fun if Mercar could geek out about her because he read some sensationalist tabloid about one of her cases.
So Neve tells us that a huge part of Dock Town was closed off for a great event, a former small coliseum that hasn’t been used in decades. Coincidentally, several unpurchased slaves and prisoners of war are being dragged into that area.
Neve has a good lead to assume that the Venatori are somehow behind this because of course they are. Neve gives us a recap on what the Venatori are and how she had multiple run-ins with them already. She is to be absolutely certain that Mercar can be trusted as they will need to work together on this. In response, Mercar shares his side of the information, that his father, Charon Mercar, who is also a respected Legatus in this rewrite, oversaw a strange pattern in how many prisoners of war and masterless slaves, primarily from places like Ventus and Carastes, Qunari-conquered cities, have simply disappeared, and how surprisingly many military vessels have been transferred to Minrathous. Since Neve is a detective, it’s fun to make this part of the journey feel a bit like a crime mystery.
Once all information has been shared, Neve declares that it’s time to go.
Approaching the Coliseum
Neve takes us across Dock Town’s roofs towards the closed-off area of the coliseum. There, we see just how massively guarded it is. The official excuse for all this is a military training exercise. Horrifyingly, this is much closer to the truth than we realise. There are Imperial Templars and Legionnaires patrolling the outskirts, so we have to find our way in.
Neve directs us to a secret hiding spot, where we meet Tarquin, who is, as we know, an Imperial Templar working for the Shadow Dragons. Not even he knows exactly what’s happening, but something definitely big is going on.
There are two options before us: do we sneak in from above and observe from the shadows, or do we disguise ourselves as templars and participate in a more open manner? This right here gives us another choice regarding Mercar’s way of doing things. Are we feeling confident enough to just walk in and hide in plain sight? Or do we take the stealthy approach? While Neve is all for stealth, Tarquin prefers the closer look. So a first major choice presents itself:
Follow Neve and observe the proceedings from above, quietly gathering the information you need.
Follow Tarquin and disguise yourself as an attendant, getting a much closer look at the proceedings.
So I’m feeling a little brave right now. I think my Mercar would try to do the bold approach to get better results, even if it means a higher risk. For this playthrough, I’m choosing to follow Tarquin and let myself be disguised. Neve begrudgingly follows along.
Entering the Coliseum
A few minutes later, Mercar, Neve, and Tarquin approach the Coliseum gates in disguise. Tarquin wears his Templar armour, while Mercar and Neve are dressed as mages of the Legion.
Once we enter the arena, we have the chance to explore it for a little while. Doing so allows us to encounter the following:
We can have an early chat with Magister Zara Renata, who will, of course, be very relevant later, along with her lackeys Felicia and Calivan, all of whom are prominent members of the Venatori. Neve is able to make that connection due to Felicia’s brother Livius having so notoriously attempted to corrupt the Wardens at Adamant Fortress in DAI.
We may encounter Magister Bataris, alongside his son Albin and get early hints of just how far the Venatori corruption runs.
If we make a good enough persuasion attempt at the Templar Captain guarding the entrance to a basement, we shall enter it and discover the prisoners and slaves intended for some heinous affair. Here, and only here, if we perform this correct dialogue choice, and being a human mage, unfortunately, certainly helps here, we get to see that our father, Charon Mercar, is among the imprisoned. And the worst of it all? He doesn’t even recognise you. Actually none of the slaves and prisoners react in any way, as all of them seem to be under some sort of spell. As we look closer, we can see that all of them have strange spiked collars around their necks, filled with blood. This is blood magic that keeps them entranced. If we want to risk it, we have time to break our father’s collar and ensure that perhaps, he can escape. So we do just that.
The Imperator
Following our exploration of the Coliseum, we get streamed into a crowd of onlookers as the Imperator of Tevinter’s legions, the Supreme Legatus himself, Magister Aemilianus Laskaris, enters the centre of the arena.
We know from DAV that Tevinter has an Imperator, and the Imperator is not the same as the Archon in this context. While the Archon is the overall ruler, the Imperator is the highest military commander. Think of this guy as Tevinter’s version of Loghain. Laskaris also happens to be one of the loudest voices responsible for forcing the Lucerni out of the Magisterium.
Laskaris delivers a speech in which he proclaims just how bad Tevinter is faring against the Antaam. Here we get some early insight into the fact that a large chunk of the Qunari army broke off and is now bearing down on Antiva and Rivain. However, a large part of it remained and is following the Arishok into battle against the Imperium. And even against this broken Antaam, the Legions are starting to fail.
Laskaris cites lost cities such as Ventus, Carastes, and Neromenian as evidence for the desperate situation Tevinter is now facing. Therefore, something must be done. Something drastic. He presents, to the gathered onlookers, the Salvatio Initiative. Basically, all unpurchased slaves and prisoners of war are to be given to Tevinter’s legions, where Laskaris and the Legates serving under him will perform blood magic rituals to turn them into mindless but ravaging soldiers against the Antaam. Dangerous cannon fodder essentially. He will use tonight’s demonstration to convince the gathered members of the Magisterium to pass a law that will officially permit Tevinter’s legions to use blood magic. Well, we know, Tevinter has always used blood magic behind closed doors, but this will mean that all safety measures are off, all precautions, all careful attempts at hiding it. And the worst part is: since slaves are considered nothing but tools, it won’t even be seen as unethical by the large portion of conservative Senate members. And prisoners of war? Qunari? Who cares about them anyway, right? This is the darkness and true corruption permeating Tevinter. This is exactly why the Shadow Dragons exist to bring back the light.
Several doors open and Laskaris directs all slaves and prisoners to be brought forth. They are all wearing the blood collars. Upon the Imperator’s command, him and several blood mages under his leadership, activate the blood collars and turn the slaves and prisoners into an absolute frenzy. A battle erupts in which the sheer destructive power of the now-mindless fighters is demonstrated.
Mercar now has a choice to make, and it is the biggest one there is in the prologue:
Do we stealthily fight the blood mages and try to rescue the innocent mind-controlled people without blowing our cover? You do, however, risk your father dying.
Do we rush in headfirst and fight Laskaris head-on, saving your father but maybe dooming more innocents and risking exposure?
Do we put our personal emotional interest above the greater good or vice versa? Well, because we broke our father’s collar earlier, we can at least assume that he’s going to be able to fight for himself with a clear head, so let’s focus on the blood mages in a stealthy manner.
Neve and Tarquin quickly take us behind the scenes as the crowd watchers in apt interest. There are five blood mages, including Laskaris, who need to be dealt with. Neve takes one half, Tarquin the other, while you have a go at Laskaris himself. You are masked so he won’t know it’s you.
While Neve and Tarquin successfully dismantle two blood mages each, we sneak right up to Laskaris and try to either knock him out or backstab him altogether. This results in the same outcome but tells a lot about Mercar’s personality. Do we kill this guy and end it now? Or do we try and incapacitate him so that he can still be of use for the future?
Regardless, Laskaris sees it coming and engages in a boss battle against us. It’s a tough battle, one that we are logically meant to lose. If we get Laskaris down to 0HP, miraculously so unless we play on Storyteller mode, the cutscene will slightly change but the outcome remains largely the same.
Laskaris lashes out and wounds us, causing us to fall down, bleeding, losing our mask, exposing ourselves to Laskaris, while the slaves and prisoners stage a mad revolt around us, forcing the gathered magisters to flee the scene. But because we freed our father from his collar, he comes rushing in to save us, engaging Laskaris in a one-on-one duel. Despite “only” being Soporati, he puts up quite a fight with his huge two-hander. We want to help him, desperately so, but we are just too weak. Laskaris is impressed by Charon’s strength, but ultimately, deals him a mortal wound. Just before Laskaris turns to finish us off, he is struck in the shoulder by…Bianca!
Varric steps into the fray and fires off a row of bolts against the Imperator, allowing Neve and Tarquin to take us away as we pass out. As they do so, the Viper appears and casts a spell that shrouds the whole arena in fog.
Back at the Shadow Lair
We awaken in the Shadow Lair and are greeted by Varric. It turns out that he was using this whole mission to assess us from the background, to determine if we are the one he’s looking for. And he decides that, yes, we are. Laskaris, the Venatori, all of this is just one puzzle piece of something much greater. We can press Varric on what this could possibly be, but he won't tell us just yet. Instead, he tells us that we should disappear. And he might just be able to help with that. We can be incredibly outrageous about this. I just discovered the biggest plot to endanger slaves ever since the Magister Sidereal tore open the Veil to reach the Golden City! I can’t just leave right now to pursue something I don't even know about!
At this point, Maevaris joins us and agrees that Mercar has to disappear for a while, now that Laskaris knows who we are. We can’t be seen with the Shadow Dragons for the time being. Doing so would just endanger the whole cause.
Reluctantly or readily, that depends on our personality, we concede that there is sense in Varric’s words. Varric advises us to adopt a codename as well, like so many agents of the Inquisition did back in the day. Mercar thinks for a moment, reflects on the most recent events, and decides on “Rook”. Varric approves. “The strongest piece on the chessboard, I like it.”
Afterwards we get a final chance to talk to the members of the Shadow Dragons before we depart, and get a last look at the Undercity. Neve returns to Dock Town to keep an eye on Laskaris and the slave rings, as well as search for any Venatori ties.
What follows is a cutscene where Rook and Varric depart the Shadow Lair and leave Minrathous altogether. One last time, Rook looks at the city he swore to fight for, then turns around and follows Varric into the unknown.
And that’s as far as we’ll go today! I hope you enjoyed my little hypothetical take on a potential Shadow Dragon origin mission. Of course, not everything is refined and perfect, but I hope you still got the overall gist of what I was going for! Next time, we shall focus on a potential prologue for the Grey Wardens! Stay tuned!
Rewriting Veilguard Part 3 - The Grey Wardens
#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age dreadwolf#datv#datv spoilers#varric tethras#dragon age rook#maevaris tilani#dorian pavus#tevinter imperium#minrathous#rewrite#rewritingveilguard#veilguard critical#creative writing#neve gallus#tarquin#the viper#shadow dragons#rook mercar#rook
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tumblr in the 1900s simulator
🎀 basilgillgirlie
HELPPP i went to see a country girl and i SWEAR coffin looked directly at me while he was singing no. 19 😳😳😳
#im going to DIE #oh my godddd #hayden coffin tag #theatre tag
( 5 notes )
🪮 tortoiseshelllll
honestly just go ahead and block me if you're still not against the consumption of intoxicating liquors /srs
#temperance discourse
( 7 notes )
🤵♂️ h0ney-b0y 🔁 in-my-merry-oldsmobile Follow
💁♀️ soshineonharvestmoon Follow
Alright, let's settle this once and for all:
Do cylinders or discs produce the clearest sound?
Cylinders⬜ 21.2%
Discs🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 78.8%
Final result from 18,796 votes
🐶 yourwildirishrose Follow
literally who is voting for cylinders. #discsweep
#poll results that would give thomas edison neurasthenia
( 3,419 notes )
👨 lawrenceseldens 🔁 the-thing-with-feathers86 Follow
☕ the-thing-with-feathers86 Follow
hey. everyone. TAG YOUR HOUSE OF MIRTH SPOILERS!!!!! not all of us are able to keep up with the installments, especially ppl employed at factories/others who work 10+ hour shifts
#!!! #the house of mirth #edith wharton #scribner's magazine
( 102 notes )
🌌 impastolover 🔁 le-modernisme Follow
🔘 ilythomascole-deactivated19061203
There’s NO WAY you people are still supporting H*nri M*tisse after he posted THIS
🌈 chezlesfauves Follow
does this scare you
🌈 chezlesfauves Follow
i guess so lmaooo
#i wonder if op knows about la femme au chapeau…
( 10,675 notes )
🌻 emancipation-waist-official 🔁 localhoyden Follow
🐈⬛ localhoyden Follow
friendly reminder that it’s perfectly ok for women and girls to wear corsets if they want to!! don't ever let anyone make you feel ashamed for it - it's your choice, you can do whatever makes you happy 💗
🌻 emancipation-waist-official
Go outside.
( 984 notes )
👰 kittybristolsgf
i know it's been less than a decade since uh. you know. but can anarchists please go back to assassinating public figures and bombing government buildings and such all the time already, i have had ENOUGH
#the latest tariff law that was passed.... wtf #(for legal reasons this is a joke) #(please don't have me electrocuted <3)
( 2 notes )
🦚 fancyfeathers
Just got my widest hat yet!! An entire owl can fit atop it!
( 51 notes )
🏓 whiffwhaffwagerer
at the marathon in st. louis!👍 what is happening
#so the original winner cheated i guess #and the actual winner had to be carried over the finish line and is currently being treated by *several* doctors #also apparently some of the competitors are missing #...i'll keep you all posted?
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🧳 thatkeenmotorist 🔁 thatkeenmotorist
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
driving my motor-car 😁
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
broken chain ☹️
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
driving my motor-car 😁
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
broken belt ☹️
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
driving my motor-car 😁
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
broken chain again ☹️
( 99 notes )
💃 lilyelsieinthemerrywidow 🔁 thegreat-trainrobbery1903 Follow
💃 lilyelsieinthemerrywidow
hey um whats going on in the balkans right now 😨 do you think theres going to be a war in europe soon im nervous
🙎♂️ thegreat-trainrobbery1903 Follow
well, a major war caused by a crisis in the balkans has been speculated on for a while. but it'll probably only last about a year like the war of 1870, plus you don't even live near the balkans, i wouldn't worry too much
💃 lilyelsieinthemerrywidow
yeah youre probably right
#and if it did reach us it would most likely be beneficial anyway #<-prev
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Inherited Driving
A/N: Credits also to @escelia 💖 Thanks for helping flash out this idea even more!!
Bruce Wayne was going crazy about Gotham's newest rogue. He stared at the open case file, the reports were laid out all over the table. On the Batcomputer various images were displayed. Images from bent light posts, street sights that were found three blocks from their original position, buildings that were missing chunks of their walls, and even buildings that had distinct car-shaped holes.
Next to that various reports were open about hit-and-run cases. None appeared to be connected. All the victims appeared to be chosen at random, good or bad didn't matter. No connections. Mugger, Politicians, other rogues, or even his children when on patrol. And then there were also reports of apparently people going insane claiming they had seen a silver car come right at them but never hit them.
He looked at the reports of his children.
Jason complains about a drug deal busted by a car bursting in and nearly ruined it for him by knocking out the main targets before crashing through the opposite wall.
Tim claimed that the corrupted CEO he had been investigating both as Red Robin as well as Tim Drake-Wayne got run over on the open streets and was now hospitalized.
But the most absurd reports came from Dick and Duke.
Dick one night reported that a silver car barely missed him while out on patrol. Nothing strange so far. If his son hadn't reported that he was jumping over roofs when it happened.
And Duke? He just reported that he felt like he had a near-death experience and saw his life flashing before his eyes. The cause? A glowing car came straight at him.
Bruce gripped his hair in frustration. This new rogue didn't make sense. They went for bad guys but also good guys? What was their pattern? The connection? Their goal? Was he lucky that none of his other children had so far encountered them on patrol?
They appeared at night as well as during the day.
Who was going to be the next target? Would it be one of his kids or possibly another corrupted politician or maybe even a mugger again next?
Tim had specifically created software to keep track of this rogue in the news or any online posts. Barbara was not able to get any video feeds or photos of this rogue for some reason. All images or videos found for the areas of his appearance were either entirely static or corrupted to the point of unrecognizability. He didn't even have the damned silver car's license plate!
Then there was the car driver's description from witnesses, which also varied from person to person. One stated him to be black-haired and blue-eyed looking like a tired College Student, another stated the man had white hair and green glowing eyes and lastly a more crazy person stated it was like an Eldritch being possessing the car.
The software peeped and Bruce turned to click on it, a news article appeared and the man groaned at what he read.
Breaking news: Scarecrow in custody after getting hit by car through Starbucks!
Witnesses say that during what was shaping up to be a fear gas attack, the driver hit the man before swerving through the front window of a Starbucks.After confirming everyone was okay, the baristas on shift gave the driver an iced coffee and a croissant while waiting for the police to arrive on scene. One employee even insisted this reckless driver saved their lives. [...]
Bruce closed the news, not reading any further and ready to slam his head onto the table. Who was this rogue?
Danny blinked at the newspaper in his hand, sipping his coffee and wondering who that driver was. He would have to be more careful now on the streets with a driver like that, that's fine. Jazz wouldn't probably call him soon again to nag about these crazy drivers Gotham appeared to have. She had been naggingly worried ever since he started going to college here. He just had to assure her that he would be even more careful to not get involved. Though his parents had already reinforced his car as a stay-safe-son measure. So he would just have to get in the car, drive from point A to point B and not hit anyone or anything like his parents.
He glanced at his kitchen clock and spat out his morning coffee.
"Shit! I am going to be late for my classes!"
In a rush he grabed his keys and ran to his car. He needed to hurry if he wanted to be there in time without upsetting his professor. Good that he learned about some pretty neat short cuts from his classmates.
#danny fenton#bruce wayne#dp x dc#fic prompt#prompt idea#Jazz wasn't the only one to inherit something from their parents#Danny is oblivious to it#Probably desensitised because of his parents#Bruce is pulling out his hair#The new rogue does not make any sense#Where is the connection between the targets#Danny just wants to get from A to B#dpxdc#crossover#How did Danny get his driving license in the first place?!#jason todd#tim drake#dick grayson#duke thomas
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Soooooo....This was not how I originally planned on how y'all shared a bed for the first time...buuuuuuuuuuuuuut this is what you got. I tried some stuff, I think they worked but not 100% sure. Honestly I could way to post this in the morning and give it another look over, but I really don't want to wait that long, and I'm worried I'll over think it.
As always here's the rest of Simon & Thimble Playlist
Here's the MPS Au Masterlist
Content warning; Death, violence, nightmare, kind of very vague description of panicking? Let me know if I miss anything
The first time the two of you actually share a bed, only one of you is sleeping. It's been nearly six months since you both signed your marriage license. And even though the time spent together under the same roof can probably only add up to a couple months, it hasn't been terrible.
Sure there's the period of growing pains, learning to co-exist with another human being when you're so used to being alone. Petty arguments and even pettier revenges. Hell you even had to go and explain your sex life, or lack there of, to the entirety of Simon's team. But even with the ups and downs, it hasn't not been worth it.
The night you share a bed, Simon has been back from a mission for a week now. It wasn't good. Really none of them are actually good, just varying degrees of what can be shoved down and ignored. Hostages were involved, a fire fight broke out. Their rescue mission became a recovery one.
Death wasn't something new to any of them. It clung to their skin. Ghost practically exuded it. He was the omen of the end to everyone who stood against him. At times he was judge, jury, and especially executioner. Ghost was a walking death. But there was something that knocked him off kilter, once the shooting had stopped and the team started the futile task of checking for survivors.
The woman looked nothing like you, really there wasn't anything similar and yet it was her eyes. Once Ghost caught sight of her eyes Simon felt something rattle in his chest. For some reason her eyes reminded Simon of yours. Only hers were dull now, lacking any spark that showed a hint of life. Simon stared for a second too long before crouching down to gently close her eyes. Ghost stood back up to continue checking. He didn't look at any other eyes.
When he came back, Simon wouldn't really look at you. His eyes would flicker to your face for a millisecond at a time, to show he was listening as much as he could, but for the most part it felt like he was trying to burn a hole into your left ear.
You just figure that he's being...well, Simon. Sometimes he went from not making a lot of eye contact to staring into the depth of your soul to make you confess every sin you even thought of committing. Just something that made him...him.
He was grateful you didn't push. He couldn't explain why he dreaded the idea of looking into your eyes. Well he could guess a theory or two, but that would mean admitting that maybe, maybe you meant a sliver of something. It all came to a head though with the nightmare.
Ghost was back in the firefight, ears ringing from the number of shots being fired and screaming being torn from people's throat. It felt like it would be unending, a vortex of sound and violence that would swallow him whole. Until it didn't. Until it suddenly became so quiet he could hear his heart and breathing.
Only...it wasn't his breathing.
His breaths weren't uneven struggles that had that wet struggling sound.
Ghost wasn't in control of his feet as he started moving forward, or when he stopped.
Ghost wasn't in control of his neck as he started to look down at what was making that struggling wet sound.
Ghost couldn't make himself stop from looking at you laying on the ground, chest making sad futile efforts to keep pulling in breath to keep you alive. Until it didn't
Ghost couldn't avert his eyes when they met yours; cold, empty, and dead.
Simon woke up choking on a gasp, fingers clutching the handmade blankets as if each stitch could shield him from the horrors his mind made him live through. He couldn't see the ceiling for minutes at least, unable to get his bearing as to where he was.
Slowly he could though. He came back to himself and to the four walls around him. To the dresser that housed your clothes and the weird little knick knacks you insisted on collecting. He felt the weight of the blankets on top of him and how they pushed him into the bed.
He came back to himself, in his bedroom, alone.
He had to remind himself that you were real, that he had just been talked at by you this afternoon. You were just in the living room. Too far away.
He probably shouldn't have done it, should have just flicked a light on, or tried to go back to sleep, but Simon had the clawing need to see you. So he got up quietly, used his stealth to make it the living room where the weak barely there rays of early morning were starting to lighten the room.
His mind couldn't hold onto any thought besides just looking at you. Sprawled out on the right side of the pull out, face half buried as you laid on your front, leg hiked up as if you were attempting a very poor man's army crawl. There was just enough space for him to sit along the head of the bed with you, and the fact he did so without waking you up was impressive. Or you were just that deep of a sleeper.
You didn't even seem to notice how intensely Simon stared at you. It was as if he was trying to commit to memory the way your eye lashes rested against your cheek, or how the way you were resting your head caused your lips to just barely pout. It should have been obvious that seeing you drool in your sleep would force him to cheer up, just a little bit. He counted the number of times your back moved with your breathing, until the number was high enough that it started to push away the idea that it would stop.
Simon spent hours just watching you. Letting the sounds of your gentle snoring and mumblings wash over him. For a second he debated seeing if he could get you to argue with him in your sleep...though...maybe he'd try that a different night.
And when the actual morning came to greet you both, Simon took extra care to watch as your eyes fluttered open. He took in the sleepy way you took in the world, eyes hazy but warm and alive.
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