#( <- it’s unspecified but it could be taken as that )
Note
andy barber + "you don't need anything, you want it"
optional scenario: assassin/mercenary
undone by a pretty spring sundress
pairing: dilf!andy barber x babysitter!female reader
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, unspecified age gap (but reader is def out of college), thigh riding, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, light bdsm, pet names (sweetheart, angel), some bratting, referenced spanking, fluffy ending
word count: 2,100ish
a/n: instead of assassin/mercenary Andy Barber, may i offer you dilf Andy Barber? 🫣 lol let's be honest, Andy is always a dilf 🤭 but i've already done ex's dad Andy and dbf August so i wanted to do a different trope and i've never done a babysitter fic so i gave it a shot!! hope you enjoy, Aspen!!
The sounds of shrieking laughter and childish games filtered into Andy Barber’s kitchen while you stood at the counter, putting together a bouquet of spring flowers that would sit nicely on his dining room table. You’d retreated into the house because you’d needed a break from the party Andy was hosting—the one he’d hired you for the afternoon to help him host.
It was a little outside your normal duties, since you typically worked as Andy’s babysitter, watching his young son on nights the single father had to work late at his law practice. You knew some of the parents in the neighborhood thought you were a little old to be babysitting, given you were old enough to be married and have a family of your own.
But you ignored them because you enjoyed babysitting for Andy. It helped supplement the meager pay you received from your day job, and you liked spending time with Andy’s son Jacob, who was a sweet kid. More than that, though, you found yourself really enjoying spending time with Andy.
And if you weren’t mistaken, Andy liked having you around as well.
In the months that you’d worked for Andy, you’d grown increasingly aware of the way he stared at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.
His crystal blue eyes would drift down to your tits when you were looking something up on your phone. And more than once, you could’ve sworn you felt his gaze on your ass when you’d bent over to pick up some toys on the floor. But each time, when you turned to the older man, he was innocently looking elsewhere.
Altogether, you’d gotten the impression that Andy might want you to be more than his babysitter, but he hadn’t yet acted on the heated looks he gave you. So you may have taken matters into your own hands and worn a skimpy little sundress to the party he was hosting for the neighbors and all their kids. And you were delighted when it had the intended effect.
You hadn’t been in the kitchen for more than a few minutes when Andy cornered you, using the moment when everyone else was distracted by watching the children play a game they’d made up to approach you. His body crowded you into the counter, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him brushing against the swaths of bare skin not covered by your sundress.
“I need to speak to you upstairs,” Andy murmured in your ear. His warm breath ghosted over your cheek and bare shoulder, causing goosebumps to raise all along your arms.
But you stifled the shiver racing down your spine and continued fluffing the flowers in the vase in front of you, pretending you didn’t notice the demanding edge of Andy’s voice or the way he crowded into you. After all, he’d waited months to approach you, and you decided you wanted to have a little fun with him before you gave in to the tension crackling between the two of you.
“You don’t need anything, you want it,” you responded cheekily, your tone light and playful. “Isn���t that what you’re always telling Jacob, Mr. Barber?” You tossed your head to the side and gave the older man a sly smile over your shoulder.
Andy’s expression darkened, his soft mouth pulling down in a frown that was framed perfectly by his neatly trimmed beard. He looked particularly delicious in a simple blue t-shirt and jeans—though you also appreciated all the suits he wore for his job as a lawyer. You’d spent many a night imagining Andy undressing you entirely while he stayed all buttoned up in one of his suits, making you hump the bulge in his slacks…
Andy’s big hand wrapping around your upper arm brought you back from your distracted thoughts.
“I assure you, sweetheart, what I’m feeling is a need—not a want,” Andy growled, dragging you away from the counter and forcing you to abandon your bouquet. You didn’t protest, though, as he led you toward the stairs and up to the second floor of his suburban Massachusetts home.
Andy had only just pulled you into his bedroom and closed the door when he spun you around and crowded into you until your back hit the door. Then, with a muttered curse, Andy ducked down and captured your lips with his own, kissing you so passionately, your head spun.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back just as fervently, your mouth parting and allowing his tongue to twine with yours. He groaned into your lips as he tasted you, the deep sound of his pleasure making you hot all over, wetness gathering between your thighs while your mouths slid together. You squirmed against Andy’s hard body, pressing your softness against him as your body yearned for friction.
Andy shoved one of his legs between yours, his big hands gripping your hips tightly and shifting you so that your pussy rubbed against his thigh. You wrenched your mouth from his with a sharp gasp, your body rocking against his as pleasure shot through you from the tips of your fingers to the ends of your toes. Andy watched you with hooded eyes as you humped against him, hands sliding down your sides.
“Wish I could watch you ride my thigh all afternoon, angel, but I need to be inside you,” Andy groaned, reaching beneath your dress and hooking his fingers in your panties, moving you back to pull them down your trembling legs. You let out a little whine at the loss of friction against your pussy, but Andy only hushed you. “Shh, I know sweetheart, you’re needy too, aren’t ya? Need daddy to fuck you, huh?”
Your head fell back against the door with a thunk and you let out a breathy, surprised, “Daddy,” tasting the way the word sounded on your tongue and enjoying it far too much.
“That’s it, angel, call me daddy,” Andy murmured fervently before capturing your lips in another kiss. You could feel his hands working his jeans open and pulling out his cock, but you couldn’t move your arms from around his shoulders; you were pretty sure if you did, you’d collapse to his feet. “Christ, I knew ya would be perfect—been wanting this for so long, but that pretty spring sundress of yours was my undoing.”
A pleased smirk curled the edges of your mouth at Andy’s confession, and you decided you’d tell him later that had been your intention with wearing it. For the moment, though, you simply leaned up to whisper some teasing words in Andy’s ear. “If you need me so bad, then take me, daddy.”
Andy hooked an arm around your waist and spun you again, walking you back to his bed and easing you down onto the plush softness of his blankets while his hips settled between your thighs. His cock rested against your bare pussy, making you moan with desire.
“Gonna have to make this quick, sweetheart,” Andy murmured as he brushed kisses to your jaw and cheeks, his hips grinding his length against your soaked folds, getting himself drenched in your arousal. “But next time I’ll fuck you soft and slow like you deserve, alright?”
“OK, daddy,” you said on a moan, tilting your hips to grind your bare pussy against his cock. Andy buried a grunt in your neck and reached between your bodies, adjusting his cock until the tip pressed against your entrance.
Then, all at at once, Andy pushed inside you, both of you moaning at the feel of his thick, hard cock stretching out your tight, warm pussy. It was better than you ever imagined, having him inside you, your body taking his entire length and joining you to him in the most intimate way.
“Feel so good, daddy,” you murmured breathily, your mind spinning with pleasure. You cupped Andy’s face in your hands, your nails raking through his beard gently, as you stared up at him. You hoped every bit of the pleasure you felt was clear on your face, so he could see how good he made you feel.
Andy seemed to, his smile filled with affection and arousal of his own. He leaned down and brushed a kiss to your lips, teasing you with the flick of his tongue before pulling away and catching your eye.
“Ready, angel?”
“Yes, daddy,” you answered sweetly, more ready for him than he could even know.
Then Andy took what he needed, and gave you what you needed, too. He fucked you hard and fast, pumping his thick cock into your tight channel with a ruthlessness you’d only ever glimpsed when he’d take work calls at home. He was brutal, and you wanted to scream your pleasure, but Andy’s hand covered your mouth, keeping you from being overheard by all the neighbors crowded in the backyard.
When he seemed to be getting close, Andy reached between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight little circles until you shattered apart around him. You came so hard, you bit down on the flesh of his palm to keep yourself quiet.
Andy didn’t seem to mind, grunting through the sting of your teeth and the delicious clench of your pussy, fucking you harder until he pressed deep and came inside you. You shivered when you felt his load leak out around his cock, in awe when you realized just how much come he must’ve pumped you full of that it was overflowing.
As you caught your breath, Andy peppered your face with light kisses, praising you. “Such a good girl, sweetheart, so fucking good for daddy.” He kissed the apple of your cheek, his beard tickling you and making you giggle softly. “Now, I need you to keep my come safe inside you for the rest of the afternoon, can you do that, angel?” Andy asked, catching your eye and giving you a serious look. His hand pressed against your lower belly, making your pussy flutter while butterflies took flight in your chest.
It was on the tip of your tongue to simply say yes, but a delightful thought took hold of your mind and you found your lips forming the same words they had earlier in Andy’s kitchen. “You don’t need anything, daddy, you want it,” you said, giggling when Andy’s face turned stormy.
“You’re lucky we have to get back to our guests, angel,” Andy growled pressing his forehead to yours while he glared at you, though there wasn’t much anger to his gaze—only desperate arousal. “Otherwise I’d put you over my knee and show you what I do when you’re a bratty bad girl.”
You were helpless to your body’s reaction to his words, your cunt clenching hard around Andy’s cock and making him chuckle. “I need it, daddy,” you cried, hands fisting in his t-shirt and trying to hold him close.
But Andy was already moving away, pulling out and stuffing his cock back in his pants. You watched him with a pout while he grinned down at you. When his appearance was presentable enough, Andy hauled you up from the bed and smoothed your dress down over your curves, fixing it for you.
“Be a good girl and help me get through the rest of this party and we can have some fun later,” Andy promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, like he couldn’t help himself, he caught your mouth in one last deliciously sinful kiss.
You returned to the party with Andy, finishing your bouquet of spring flowers and putting it out on the table. Then, you helped him wrangle the kids and their parents for dessert, everyone enjoying the beautiful spring evening.
If anyone from the neighborhood noticed that, after you returned, Andy treated you more like his partner than his babysitter, they didn’t say anything. (In fact, in the weeks and months that followed, when it became clear the two of you were together, each of your neighbors would try to take credit for setting the two of you up.) When everyone left, they thanked you just as much as Andy for hosting the wonderful party.
Once everyone was gone and you’d helped Andy put Jacob to bed, he delivered on his promise of rewarding you for your good behavior. Later that night when you told him you’d worn your skimpy little outfit just to see if he’d finally make a move on you, Andy chuckled and murmured that he’d forgive your naughty trick just that once. Then, he made sure to show you just how undone he was by your pretty spring sundress.
#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun#andy barber#andy barber x reader#andy barber smut#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber x you#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans smut#chris evans characters#witchywithwhiskeywork#buckets-and-trees
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I decided to share this around Tumblr, as well
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image id: a tweet by nick @/nickybravoart on may third. it says, "i'm so fucking mad. this is my classmate Hunter's portfolio who's a trans man. his artwork and statement on gender transition was taken down from my private schools senior showcase for "unspecified reasons". please share this, give him the attention my bigoted school denied." attached is a portfolio with four sequential images with similar lighting and background. the background is composed of two vertical stripes: the left is white and the right is sky blue. the skin tone of the person in all four images is a near-white pale. in image one, the person has long hair, red lipstick, and a sleeveless dress that is white with small red shapes that are either triangles or hearts. they are looking straight into the camera while holding scissors to a section of their hair. in image two, they are holding the cut off hair and looking at it in a way that makes their eyes hard to see. they look pensive. they are no longer wearing the dress. in image three, they are holding the back of their hair, looking out. there is bandage-like binding on their chest. in image four, they again have red lipstick, but this time it is smudged. the camera is zoomed out further so you can see that along with similar bandage binding, they are wearing black boxers. they are holding the top of their head and looking straight into the camera. end id.
note: while it is safe to assume hunter is portraying himself in this set, it is still possible it is a piece on transmasculinity as a whole, so i opted to use they/them. i searched for "hunter gender photography" but could not find this piece, so if anyone does have a link to any of his socials for credit let me know.
—
Thank you so much to @eros-vigilante for this image ID :D
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The manga: a college guy meets his childhood friend, who was formerly a boy but is now a woman, and has run away from home after an unspecified disagreement with her family which has left her with a significant amount of trauma; it's implied she was bullied heavily in the time since they've last seen each other.
But don't worry, she's not trans! She just got an illness which turned her into a woman!
The manga: a high school boy with an interest in make-up uses his gloomy, depressed (male) childhood friend as a model to improve his skills. This causes said friend to have an "awakening" and start dressing as a woman, and to overall be a much happier, brighter, outgoing person.
But don't worry, the friend is not trans! He's just a boy who crossdresses because his childhood friend likes him better that way!
The manga: a high school boy joins a club where the members can turn into magical girls, which in his case involves physically transforming into a girl. When in girlmode, he's much happier and enjoys his life much more, and overall prefers staying in girl mode; when the ability to transform is temporarily taken away from him, he sinks into a deep depressive episode.
But don't worry, he's not trans! He's just a boy who enjoys being a girl!
The manga: a college student loses a bet and has to crossdress for a night out on the town, and meets and hooks up with a butch girl; they fall in love and start dating. The boy always crossdressed when they meet, and starts enjoying being "treated like a girl" in the relationship and starts crossdressing even when he doesn't have to meet his girlfriend and enjoys activities such as clothes shopping and make-up and putting on nail polish.
But don't worry, he's not trans! He's just a boy who crossdresses to please his butch girlfriend!
The manga: a guy is magically turned into a girl as a result of saving his best friend, the crown prince, from an assassination attempt. The prince decides that he has to take responsibility, and asks the new girl to marry him; despite being smitten she refuses, wanting to date first. She is later offered a way to go back to being a man, but when she does turn back she's disgusted by her own appearance and depressed all the time, ultimately deciding to stay a girl.
But don't worry, she's not trans! She's just a boy who's been magically turned into a woman! And decides not to turn back when she can! Because she's not trans! Somehow!
"But we can't write trans women in manga! It's just not something that you do!"
[Image description: A one-comic panel. Gengar is glaring at a crowd of faceless characters; from the crowd, a speech balloon emerges, saying "You could if you weren't a fucking coward". End ID.]
#manga#gender manga#trans manga#I am so mad about this#I woke up and chose violence#fuck everything about this#transgender
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captive
Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.
if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.
word count: 1.4k
a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.
It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.
It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.
Loud. Much too loud.
You roll over, settling yourself on your side.
The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.
You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.
Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.
He always gets the room with the bed.
As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.
It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.
He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.
You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.
Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.
Sleep doesn’t come.
His absence is starting to bother you.
You’ve been with him for an entire season now.
You’re getting used to him.
The sound of his voice.
The warmth of his body.
The taste of his lips.
You can’t even sleep without him next to you.
“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.
How was it possible? How could you be missing him?
He had taken everything from you.
Your family.
Your home.
Your innocence.
He was holding you captive. He was a monster.
But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.
Doesn’t clothe you.
Doesn’t feed you.
Doesn’t protect you.
He did all of those things and more.
Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?
Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?
You fucking hated him for what he’d done.
Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.
It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking.
Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.
“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.
“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”
You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.
His worn leather boots being kicked off.
His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.
“How was the hunt?”
You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.
Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.
When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.
There’s a swoop in your tummy.
Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.
He’s got such a handsome face.
Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”
Of course you weren’t.
Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.
When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.
He takes care of you.
“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”
It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.
You’re being sweet to him.
He clears his throat lightly.
“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”
He’s not just talking about food and you know it.
You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.
Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.
“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”
With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.
You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.
“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”
The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.
“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”
Surprised, he turns around.
Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.
Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.
“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased.
“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”
His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.
“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.
It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.
Now your heart was starting to do the same.
And then there was your mind.
What if that stopped fighting him too?
Part of you is afraid it already has.
Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.
“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”
“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.
Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”
He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.
“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.
“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”
Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.
You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him.
And you shouldn’t be.
He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.
You choke out a sob.
It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.
That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.
“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”
He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.
“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.
Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.
“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.
That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.
You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.
Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.
divider credit to @saradika🤍
#tw dubcon#tw dubious consent#tw noncon#raider joel#raider! joel#dark!fic#dark! joel miller#dark joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller drabble#joel miller fanfiction#tw daddy kink#dark!joel x reader#fic: captive
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Pairing -Joel Miller x F!reader
Summary-Joel wants to be the first
CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, oral (f) receiving, established relationship, no outbreak Joel late 40’s, reader is unspecified legal age, reader is not described, inexperienced but not a virgin, soft dom joel, shy reader, joel is obsessed with you, pet names galore, joel is the king of patience and eating pussy
WC-1.4k
A/N- The Joel brain rot has taken over. This was inspired by one of my fav spicy songs I’ll tag the link at the end.
[Joel Masterlist][Main Masterlist]
Not beta read
Kisses down low
His initial reaction when you’d told him was very much a Joel reaction. It startled you at first how angry he seemed, not at you of course.
“Whadya’ mean no one’s ever done that before?”
You just shrugged it off a little ashamed for whatever reason. He noticed your obvious discomfort and you shrinking in on yourself and he certainly couldn’t have that. He calmed down a bit and asked you to explain. Your first real boyfriend didn’t think it was worth his time and another partner made you feel self conscious about it so you just stopped asking.
Joel had to take a few deep breaths through his nose and cursed the idiots who passed up the opportunity to appreciate you the way he knew you deserved. You never passed up the chance to show him how much you loved and cared for him. It was hard in the beginning for him to understand someone could love him so unconditionally, even with all his flaws and shortcomings. In the short time you’d known each other you brought out this side of him he thought had been long dormant. He had more patience, a lust for life that he thought was lost when Sarah moved away for college.
He’d reassured you that he was willing to wait as long as you needed him to until you felt ready.
You could tell he was doing his very best to be patient. Every time you were intimate with each other he’d give you his best puppy dog eyes as he rested his head on your stomach, waiting and hoping maybe this time would be a yes. Even through the no’s he could tell you we’re entertaining the idea. Letting it roll around in your head that Joel would never make you feel ashamed or embarrassed.
“I promise I’ll make ya feel good sugar.” He rasps against your ear as he lays all his weight on top of you. He stopped trying to fight you when you’d told him how it grounded you after sex to have his broad body pressing you into the mattress.
“I know it’s just…I can’t get out of my head.” You gasp as he rolls you over on top of him.
“That’s exactly what I’m tryin’ to do…get you out of that pretty little head of yours and let me take care of you.” His voice is desperate as his hands rub up and down your back. It wasn’t often you got Joel in the position to beg so you decided next time you would trust him to do what he said.
****
“Just relax baby girl.” His deep husky voice is muffled as he lays kisses to your thighs. He’s been slowly undressing you, making sure you were thoroughly distracted.
Your breath stutters a little as his strong hands knead at your breast. His fingers tease your nipple and the whine that leaves your mouth already has him desperate to have you making more of those sounds.
“Joel…what’s it feel like?” You ask, feeling a little nervous again.
He rests his head on your thigh while he continues rubbing soothing circles along your side and your arms. In all his years he’s never practiced this much restraint with anyone. He’s never wanted anything so bad in his life and he’ll be damned if you aren’t one hundred percent comfortable with what he’s about to do to you.
“Why don’t ya think about it like a kiss.” You nod your understanding as he hooks his finger with one hand and taps your hips to have you lift them. He slowly pulls your panties down your legs and grinds his hips into the mattress at the sight of you.
Joel’s got you so worked up you can feel the slick dripping out of you onto the mattress below. You’ve never felt so protected and yet so vulnerable. So exposed and also powerful at the same time.
“Jesus…you’re prettier than a peach.”
You chuckle a little at his words and the fact that you don’t think he meant to say it out loud.
His broad shoulders settle between your thighs as his thumbs spread you open. You can feel his warm breath fan across your lips and just that sensation has your head dropping back against the pillow. He doesn’t mean to laugh but he had no idea how sensitive you’d be…he’s barely touched you and you’re shaking like a leaf.
Joel’s rock hard in his jeans, not having bothered to strip down. When you said you were ready he only had one thing on his mind and it damn sure wasn’t gettin’ comfortable. All he’s been able to think about the last few weeks is how he’ll be the first one to claim you, to taste you and make you come apart on his tongue. In his mind he already owns you and your willingness to submit to him has him daydreaming more than he’d care to admit.
“You ready sweetheart?” His voice is almost unrecognizable as he stares at his prize already soaking wet for him.
You nod feverishly as his mouth descends on you. You suck in a breath as his tongue wastes no time working you open. His strong hands grip your thighs as he licks and sucks at your clit. You’re so keyed up it feels like you’re embarrassingly close to your first orgasm as you clamp your hand over your mouth to quiet your moans.
One of his hands reaches up to you as he clasps his fingers in yours. “Nuh uh baby girl, I’ve been waitin’ ages for this. I want to hear all those little noises you make.”
He dives back in, his big nose rubs at your clit while his tongue dips into your hole. A high pitched whine leaves your mouth as you instinctively reach down with your other hand to tug at his curls. He’s growling into your pussy, so drunk off you and the way you taste. “Fuck Joel…please.” You whimper into the air as you buck your hips, seconds from cresting over.
Joel’s never been so turned on by the sounds you’re making. He can tell you’re close and the swell of pride in his chest that you’ve fully let go for him is something he can’t describe. He almost feels bad for what he’s about to put you through because there’s no way he’s going back to the way things were before. Your poor little pussy is gonna be so abused by the time he’s had his fill of you.
“Come on baby.” His eyes meet yours as you fight to keep your head up. He knows you can do it, he can feel the way your thighs clench around his head. He wants to see if you can without his fingers, wants to watch you fall apart on his tongue as he wrings every last drop of rational thought from your brain.
His tongue circles your clit in swift motions as you let out an inaudible whine. Your head drops back between your shoulders as your heels dig into his back. You can barely get out his full name as your climax rocks into you, your vision is sparkly behind your eyes as you hear him whispering sweet words far off in the distance.
It takes you both a moment to catch your breath as he places kisses along your thighs just resting his head there. Not even wanting to bother with the damp spot on the mattress where he came with you. He doesn’t even care or feel embarrassed when he can’t remember the last time he felt this good.
“Joel…” Your voice is a little hoarse as you clear your throat.
“Ya sugar.”
“Can we…do that again?”
He huffs out a laugh in a small moment of triumph. “Anytime you want.”
Comments and reblogs are much appreciated
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#joel miller fluff#joel tlou#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller au#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#tlou fic#joel x reader#dom joel miller#pedro pascal
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THE REQUEST OF THE BABY TRAPPING AND JISUNG!!!!!! I WANT TO KISS THAT ANON FOR THERE PRETTY MIND
when you said you are thinking about it with jeno and jaemin like can you write one for jeno because it had been on my mind all time🤭🤭
mdni. nsfw 18+
pairing: sugar daddy!lee jeno x reader
warnings: sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, dubcon, filthy rich silver fox jen, daddy kink, possessiveness, unspecified age gap (~15 yrs…), babytrapping, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: this made me want to write a longer one shot so that’s also in the making rn!! enjoy this drabble for now tho 💋
jeno would do anything for you.
you were his precious baby, whom he spoiled absolutely rotten. he gave you unlimited access to his credit cards, bought you thousands in expensive luxuries goods like designer bags and shoes, took you around the world in getaway vacations, and paraded you around on his arm as his woman. and all he asked for in return was for you to love him and be devoted to him just as he was to you.
he didn’t care if he was “too old for a young woman like you”. you were both perfectly consenting adults. if anything, you seemed to love being spoiled by an older man. you loved to run your hands through his jet black hair with strands of silver running through. you loved to kiss the fine lines starting to form around his eyes and forehead. and you loved to tell him how men your age could never treat you with the respect and care he does.
you were more than just a sugar baby to him. but your relationship was complicated. to you, he was more than a sugar daddy but less than a boyfriend. he wanted you to officially be his and had asked you many times before to be his woman. but every time, you declined. your reasoning being you were both happy in your arrangement and you didn’t want to ruin any of that.
he never liked that you weren’t officially his and he was finally going to change that. the best and only way he knew how.
“dadddyyy!!” you cried, fat tears rolling down your face and making a mess of your makeup. you hugged a pillow close to your chest and buried your sobs into it as jeno pounded his fat cock relentlessly into your poor cunt from behind. as many times as you’ve taken his cock, you could almost never get used to how long and thick he was, stretching you out and reaching places no one else had before. it seemed with every thrust, he was trying to beat down your womb.
he used one hand to press on the small of your back, arching it so his cock could reach even deeper inside your cunt as his other hand pulled your hair back to force your head up from the pillow so he could hear every cry, scream, and moan coming from your pretty lips. his hips pounded relentlessly into yours, your cunt leaking arousal around his shaft and sucking him back in with every thrust.
he leaned down to speak lowly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “my baby fuckin loves it rough huh? all that screaming and crying when your cunt is so messy and so tight for daddy.”
you choked out another sob and pushed your ass back on his thrusts, pleasure overwhelming all of your senses. he groaned at your movement and started rutting his hips even faster against yours.
he was filling your little cunt so much, you couldn’t even think straight. you felt your core tighten and your pussy clench harder around his pounding cock when your orgasm suddenly flooded your senses and blanked out your mind. your cunt was leaking and spasming uncontrollably while he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.
“fuck baby i’m close too,” he groaned from behind you. “m gonna cum in this pussy, fill you up full.”
before you could tell him, wait! it’s not safe! he suddenly bottomed out and shot his hot load right into your warm cunt. he filled you with every last drop of his milky hot load until it started leaking out because you were already so full.
“jeno! i can get pregnant!!” you were starting to panic but he shushed you and pulled you tight against his sweaty chest in a spooning position, never once pulling out.
you tried breaking free from his embrace but he was much too strong for you. he kept one arm locking you to his chest and he moved his other hand to rest on your lower stomach.“wouldn’t you look so pretty with our baby?”
“jen-“ he shut you up with a deep kiss pressed against your lips.
“you’re mine now.”
@jenomov had to tag my jenhoe bc it’s been a while since i’ve written for baby daddy
#nct dream smut#nct smut#nct dream x reader#nct dream#nct x reader#lee jeno x reader#lee jeno smut#jeno x reader#jeno#lee jeno#jeno smut
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୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ treat me like a fool.⋄ 𓍯
…IN WHICH, you trace your thumb over luke’s scar while sitting on his lap.
tags/warnings: gn!reader—besides mentions of you being pretty.(anyone can be pretty, however.)you sitting on his lap?? idk… loser!luke slipping thru☺️🥰. reader’s cabin is unspecified/not mentioned, both of you being the same amount of whipped for each other. TINY ASS BLURB‼️
ೃauthor notes⁀➷: so what if i can’t stop thinking about this. i am literally just a girl who wants luke in ways that would send me to the looney bin in 1940’s. also, tumblr, pls post this i’m so srs.
—
“you’re so pretty, luke.”
you mumbled, your legs on either side of him. the two of you sat in your cabin, the fact that your siblings aren’t around is a miracle. a miracle you two take advantage of.
luke looked up at you, a look of admiration written all over his face. his expression was softened, his lips slightly parted as his eyes seemed to slowly taken in every part of you like you were gonna disappear.
luke’s grip on your hips tightened ever so slightly. he hummed quietly before kissing your forehead.
luke always thought you were pretty, how you got even prettier up close is a mystery not even the gods above can figure out.
“you’re prettier than i’ll ever be.”
“yeah?”
you ask, cupping his cheek gently. you always admired his scar, a permanent medal of glory is what you thought of it as. as lightly as possible, you traced said scar with your thumb.
luke felt his face get hot and his mind go blank for a second. he watched as your eyes shifted away from his and toward your hand and his scar. as much as he wanted to do the same—luke couldn’t bring himself to not look at you.
you stared at him with the type of admiration he could only dream of, like he was the only boy in the world. luke couldn’t imagine a life where someone like you loved him the same way he loved you.
it’s mind blowing that it happened to him in this lifetime and not some other one. fate was a wonderful thing, thank the moirai for this.
luke put his hand over the one that was tracing his scar, bringing your hand down slightly. he turned his head just enough to gently kiss the palm of your hand. planting one, two, and three kisses in the same spot repeatedly.
“yeah. the prettiest.”
#— LUKE CASTELLAN#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson x reader#luke castellan blurb#luke castellan imagine#i have thoughts about this man all the time#he’s a fking parasite jn my mind that wont leave#charlie bushnell the man that u are🥰🥰😍😍
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Down by the river || Halsin x f!reader
A/N: This is my first time writing for this fandom and this character, I hope my numerous hours spent in BG3 shows haha. Thank you to @perotovar for the title.
CW: race of the reader unspecified, but she is smaller than Halsin (the man is 7 feet tall), wet Halsin is a warning in itself, oral and fingering (f receiving), innocentish reader, multiple orgasms, Halsin has a hugeeeee cock, unprotected p in v, good old pulling out method (please don't), pet names (my heart, etc.)
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
You didn't mean to spy on him.
You had simply intended to find a quiet spot to bathe. Alas - it was already taken. You hid between branches as you admired him.
Halsin looked like he belonged here - strong body coming out of the water like a siren. His arms, strong with thick muscles, strained as he washed his hair - hair that was untied, freely moving against the wind. The water started just under his navel, a line of hair trailing down, the rest of him hidden in the soft waves.
You had intended to go back. But when you moved, a branch cracked beneath your foot. The large elf looked in direction of the noise, aware and careful of any dangers awaiting him.
But it was just you. You came out, eyes closed, even though his naked form was burned behind your eyelids.
"Apologies. I did not know this spot was already taken."
"Ah, thank Silvanus it is you. Why don't you join me?"
You took the invitation, wanting to be closer to him. You felt warmer, somehow. But you turned around, and undressed, letting your camp clothes form a pile near Halsin's.
"Beautiful. Just as nature intended." You could hear the grin in his voice, you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on your body.
You turned around, shyly, and stepped into the water. It was refreshing, and you tried to forget about Halsin’s eyes on you, your eyes strained to the water moving slowly around your moving body. You could feel goosebumps rising on your skin, and your nipples peaking with interest as you remembered how close Halsin was.
“Now, please, my heart… Do not be shy. I have seen the way you look at me.” You looked up at his face, and you felt your cheeks burn as he flashed you a toothy smile. He approached slowly, like he was trying to tame a scared wild animal. Two of his big fingers rested on your chin so you couldn’t look away, as he looked into your eyes. His were shades of blues and golds. “I contemplate you in the same manner when you are distracted.”
Your heartbeat got faster as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest. “Halsin…” Your hands laid naturally on the expanse of his pectoral muscles, as you got on the tips of your toes to capture his mouth. His free arm encircled your waist, holding you close. His mouth opened to you, and you swallowed him whole, tasting the honey and the fire on his tongue. You felt something big pressing against your stomach between the two of you, and you could only imagine what it was.
“Apologies, I do not mean to get ahead of myself…” Halsin whispered, panting, as he rested his forehead against yours.
“No need to… I like it.”
“You… like it?”
“Take me, Halsin.”
He let out a sound that resembled a growl, before taking you in his arms and lifting you up to bring you to the edge of the water. He laid you on the grass, bare and open for him, as he licked his lips like a predator.
“I beg of you, stop me if I am being too rough.” He pleaded, crawling to you. You watched as droplets of water fell off his body, taking in the view of this man getting on his knees for you.
“I promise.”
One of your hands found his hair, loose, wet and wild, that you held in a ponytail as his scarred lip kissed where your hip bone was located, going down and down until he found your pubic bone. He kissed the skin there, making you whimper and squirm in impatience.
“No one ever….” You admitted, your grip on his hair tightening as he got closer to your wetness. A soft smile traced his lips.
“I promise it will be pleasant for you, my heart.” Halsin’s fingers parted your folds, leaving you exposed to his animalistic gaze. The flat of his tongue licked at the exposed flesh, and already, you felt thunder striking in your veins. His eyes were attached to your face, analyzing every change of expression as he pleasured you selflessly. When he found your clitoris with the tip of his tongue, you gasped and pulled on his hair, making him growl. “There it is.” He whispered against your heat, goosebumps raising on your skin.
“Halsin, please, I beg – ah” Your words were cut off by a long moan as he sucked on your clit. It didn’t take long before you fell apart, tugging on his hair and face. But he did not stop, relishing in your fresh scent. He kept licking with a purpose, as one of his fingers entered your heat. Your walls tightened around him.
“I need to help you, so you can be disposed to take me. Please, settle down.” He took a pause to kiss your thighs and you loosened your legs a bit. “I do not wish to harm you.” You inhaled and exhaled as you took one more of his fingers in, his lips still latched onto your bud of pleasure. When his fingers curled and hit a particularly delightful spot, your body tensed once again as your juices emptied on his fingers. His name was on your lips like a prayer, you had never felt this good. Your hands grabbed on to his face and you brought him to your level, as he pressed his palms on the ground so he wouldn’t crush you beneath his weight.
“Halsin…” You caressed his wet hair with a shy smile. “You are… exquisite. I am yours. Please, take me.” You kissed his scars, his smile lines, the corner of his lips.
“Are you sure? It’s… quite a lot to take in.”
“I trust you.”
Even his hand looked small around his girth as he guided the tip inside of you. You knew it would be as remarkable in size as he was, so you tried not to flinch. Halsin distracted you with soft kisses, his hands helping you wrap your legs around him. Your walls slowly accommodated his size. You were already delirious on pain and pleasure.
“Oak Father preserve me.” He prayed under his breath as he stilled, his soft eyes making sure your expression had no trace of discomfort. He moved his hips slowly, in fact, he barely had to do anything for you to feel all of it. You prayed to your God as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Between the pressure of not wanting to hurt you from the inside and not to crush you, the large elf had the idea to roll in the grass, so you could lay comfortably on top of him. He was still in control, his hands moving down to your ass as he thrusted his hips upwards, and you met him halfway. Your cries only got louder as he picked up the pace, and you were worried the others would hear you, even if the camp was further in the forest. Your walls tightened around him as you came undone once again. He would not last longer, and he pulled you off as spurts of thick white liquid painted his stomach. You laid beside him on the grass and watched him with a content smile.
“Thank you. It was… most fulfilling.” He said as he pulled his hair back.
You heard familiar voices calling for you from the forest, and you got dressed in a hurry, not wanting to get caught by the others, you would never heat the end of it.
“Maybe… you should go back in the water.” You watched Halsin’s naked form one last time, before running back to the forest.
#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#baldur's gate 3 halsin#halsin#halsin smut#halsin x reader#halsin x tav#halsin x you#halsin silverbough#halsin bg3#halsin baldur's gate 3
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Hi can I request alastor x Vox's sister reader? Reader isn't a tech demon like Vox and kinda the opposite of when it comes to technology.
Basically the equivalent of someone who's so bad at cooking they could burn water except with technology. And maybe Vox didn't know they were down in hell and only found out well spying on Alastor and reader accidently does that destroys a tech thing.
You dont have to do it if you'd dint want to and sorry its so long I hope it's not to weird or specific.
Good evening My dear! I may have gone slightly overboard, I had fun with this request!
You know where to find me, I know where to look.
Alastor x female reader, Vox & sister reader
Warnings!!
Vox being a creepy lil tv creeper, implied Radiosilence, Alastor plots to take out the reader at one point, both reader and Alastor are on the Aroace spectrum, Am I projecting a little? Yes
Reader has beef with microwaves, not proof read apologies for any spelling mistakes, Leaning into fanon territory here! Ending a little scrambled because it's 7 am and I am supposed to be up in three hours.
Vox's sister was something he didn't talk about often or at all, maybe a brief whisper of "[Name] would like this"
when he saw something she would like but nothing more, while Vox had managed to live up until the 50's you had died before him, a unspecified illness had taken your life, he suspected it was from you over working yourself but he couldn't prove it, all he knew was that you were more then likely in heaven with the angels, probably doing whatever you please.
He'd like to see his sister again after all the two of you were little troublemakers growing up, sneakily stealing the freshly baked cookies your mother made, spraying the neighbors son with the hose when he shoved Vox onto the ground or throwing rotten eggs at the neighbors other son who tried to pull your pigtails, although you did fight a fair amount, with you chasing him down with a baseball bat after he had broken the head off of your doll one time.
When the war took the life of your father and heartbreak took your mother's years after, when the two of you were in the middle of your teenage years, the two of you only had each other, you had each other's backs, even if you disapproved of your brothers obsession with the up and coming TV technology, it worked in his favor once he landed a job working with it, managing to scramble up the connections to get you a nice job as some guys secretary, it paid well and the guy wasn't stupid enough to mess around with Vox's sister.
To his knowledge you didn't get involved in the field politics like he did, where he trampled over the weak ones, stealing ideas and parading them off as his own when his own ideas were rejected, And the other things he did to get to the top, you were a decent person, a woman far beyond her time one would say.
However unknown to him his sister was causing up trouble in her own right, finding the weak spots of her bosses and exploiting them via blackmail or something amongst those lines, and if they refused to be blackmailed by her? Not even giving her a pretty penny to keep her mouth shut about their affairs? Their deals? Their tax fraud? Well the newspaper would have a field day with the scoop she anonymously dropped off.
Both siblings were doomed to fall below, maybe if they had perished around the same time they wouldn't had been separated, maybe she would've even joined the Vee's!
But they perished separately, years apart.
You met Alastor not long after dying, the deer radio host befriending you rather quickly.
Deer were ironically one of your favorite animals, and you always did prefer the radio as opposed to your brothers television, maybe that's why you foolishly put your trust in a friendship with Alastor, that was repaid with the Radio demon reluctantly falling for your charms, you falling for his,and not with him trying to eat you or making a deal with him and taking your soul.
Vox similarly had met Alastor after he had perished, and they were on friendly terms up until Alastor had, to be blunt rejected Vox's proposal, and then vanished for seven years.
Not once in those years of supposed friendship did Vox learn about you, he didn't even know the radio demon had a spouse, let alone that it was his own sister,
It's not that Alastor was ashamed of you or anything, he simply didn't think Vox was important enough to introduce you too, even when you were considered just a good friend and not his spouse, he considered Vox a supposed, one friend but not to the level of Rosie for example,
Rosie was the first person to know about you
Most types of modern technology would fizzle out or explode in your hands, you learned this the hard way after purchasing a flip phone and it exploded in your hands once you turned it on.
Alastor did NOT let you live that down, saying that it was your fault for trusting in faulty modern technology, eventually after some experimenting with random technology it was discovered that anything from the 2000's forward were practically expensive bombs for you,
Alastor took great joy in snatching up modern electronics and placing them in your hands to be rid of them before taking care of the unfortunate sinner that owned them, either making a snack out of them or taking their soul in a deal.
You didn't mind it much, was it somewhat inconvenient? Yes without a doubt, everyone kept their electronics away from you, you could be talking to Angel and he'd slide his phone far away from you, was that a bit much? Probably but if he pissed you off enough for whatever reason you could just reach over and BOOM no more phone!
Vox being the nosey control freak he was, used his devices to lurk around the hotel, and for plot related reasons managed to sneak into the hotel undetected with a remote control car with a camera the size of a hot wheels, at first he didn't see much, The princess and her girlfriend having a little date, The cat bartender and Angel Dust chatting while drinking, Niffty traumatizing baby bugs, blah blah boring stuff to him,
However he perked up as he spotted the radio demon, in the kitchen for whatever reason, cooking away, coat put to the side, sleeves rolled up, tail exposed, chopping up celery, bell peppers, garlic and onions while humming a tune,
Vox watched in stalkerish excitement as Alastor chopped the vegetables to prep for the meal he was making, it wasn't anything to be excited about but he was anyway,
Vox's expression changed from excitement to displeasure as someone walked into the kitchen, Joyfully calling out for Alastor while holding up a bag of what looked to be groceries,
Alastor turned, tail moving swiftly back and forth at the sight of his beloved spouse you moved forwards, just barely brushing against Vox's little spy car causing it to burst into flames.
Simultaneously causing Vox to break out in a sting of curses while you and Alastor looked at each other in confusion, before your face twisted into one of frustration, assuming you had bumped into some type of kitchen gizmo
"Can I NOT touch kitchen appliances anymore?!"
"Settle down dearest, and put down the produce please."
Vox came back at later date with another hot wheel camera, managing to sneak into the hotel when Angel dust opened the hotel doors to leave, this time Vox was determined to avoid whatever had caused the first device to explode,
There wasn't anything worth wild for him, The princess was scrambling with papers, the king of hell surrounded himself with ducks for some apparent reason?? Alastor was nowhere to be seen, but the person he was with in the kitchen was, sat at the bar listening to Niffty explain fanfiction while the bartender nursed a drink muttering something about being too sober for that.
Vox squinted as he zoomed closer to you, he stared for a few minutes before recognizing you as his sister, you looked different then when you were alive but it was without a doubt you.
Why the fuck were you down here?! And why were you in the hotel?! Did you know he was here?! Probably not considering he had a TV for a head now and went by Vox instead of whatever normal human name he had before.
Vox observed for the next couple of days, catching on that you and most modern technology did NOT mix, you had taken down twenty-five of his hot wheel cameras just by nicking them, you also had weird beef with Microwaves, sometimes they worked for you, and others times they fizzled down and refuses to work for you,
It annoyed you to no end especially when you were trying to eat a microwaved meal behind Alastor's back.
He wondered what would happen if you touched his head at all, would he explode? He didn't want to find out.
You hadn't changed much from when the two of you were alive, maybe more outgoing and confident but you were still the sister he grew up with, he debated on whether he should reach out, what would he say?
'hey sister, it's been a couple of decades I've been watching you? Join the Vees!'
that's not a normal thing to say, Not to mention Alastor more then likely wouldn't let him get near you
He found that you and Alastor were close, too close for his liking, cooking together, the two of you would dance together, Alastor would bite you when the two of you were allegedly alone, and the two of you even shared a room!
Was Vox in denial about the obvious? Yes, yes he was.
On one side there was that sibling protectiveness on the other he was jealous because why didn't Alastor treat him like he did you when they were on good terms?! Why didn't he? Was this why he turned him down on joining the Vee's?
Was it because of you? How long have the two of you known each other? Why didn't Alastor mention you to him? Did Alastor not trust him during their friendship? Of course he didn't, he was a heartless cannibalistic deer with gross deer hooves,
Clearly you were being held hostage or something, maybe you sold your soul to Alastor?
Alastor was clearly using you for his own entertainment like he had with Vox during their friendship, after All Alastor could never love another person, he was incapable of it.
But he wasn't incapable of it, you weren't an exception to Alastor's Alastory-ness, and he wasn't an exception to your you-ness
Neither you or Alastor were big on the whole romance thing,
You, in life didn't care much for it preferring to focus your time and energy on blackmailing folks and saving enough money to do whatever your heart desired and Alastor was similar, only instead of blackmail and money it was his radioshow and murder.
And that didn't change after death, even after you met Alastor.
You honestly couldn't pinpoint when you and Alastor fell for each other, it came slow like a horror movie where a serial killer was coming up behind the victim, no one noticing the killer until it was too late,
It got you first, at first you thought he just got bumped up from a good friend to a close friend, then a best friend and that's why you were so fond of him,
Until you started wishing to do unholy things,
Like holding hands, or petting his ears!
The minute you figured out what the budding feelings that had begun to weave themselves inside you,
you resulted to shoving them down, hopefully hiding them away until they disappeared completely, or until you gaslit yourself enough that they never existed in the first place, that it was just heartburn or something,
but that didn't happen, they just got stronger up until the point where it hurt, until you had to physically distance yourself from Alastor in hopes they subsided.
Alastor on the other hand, had it slightly worse,
For him it didn't hit him in small gaps like it did for you, it hit him all at once,
he legitimately thought he had somehow gotten deathly ill, perhaps he had gotten cursed? Maybe he wasn't as fond of you as he thought and instead hated your guts for whatever reason?
But if that was the case why did he yearn for your presence? Especially after you for some reason distanced yourself from him?
Why did he desire to chat with you? Why did he wish to cook you a meal and have a lovely dinner with just the two of you??
He eventually went to Rosie, his most trusted friend with this problem
his smile was strained when Rosie laughed at his troubles and told him he was, shockingly more then likely in love.
He acted like he was just told he had an incurable disease, like rabies.
Eventually he got to the point where he decided he should just take you out, in a murder way he couldn't afford a weak spot that he couldn't control,
However he couldn't go through with it when you showed up unannounced to his home, a frown present on your lovely face, you acted like a guilty child who had just stolen a batch of freshly baked cookies, you carried two folders and a board, and you asked him to hear you out as he let you inside,
You began to set up what one can only describe as one of those conspiracy theory boards, only instead of a conspiracy it was explaining how you managed to fall for Alastor, that he didn't necessarily have to return those feelings, and why he should let you live after knowing this information.
Thankfully before you could begin setting anything other then the board up and a few skeins of different colored yarn out, Alastor grabbed you by your shoulders and reluctantly told you that he adored you for some forshaken reason.
And that was that, nothing was ever officially labeled until a ring was put onto your finger many many years later, but it was comfortable, you stayed true to each other, you never went further then a light kiss or a cuddle, the two of you would be deemed odd for a couple, sometimes invalidated by folks who didn't know how to mind their own business, but they were usually dealt with quickly.
You adored Alastor, and He adored you in return.
And that was evident as he twirled you around his radio tower, Vox's hotwheel mini camera watching from the corner.
Soft jazz played as you were pulled back into Alastor's arms, a laugh escaping your throat as you smiled at him, taking a quick moment to reach your hand out and hold Alastor's face, planting a soft smooch on him before pulling away.
At that point Vox was disturbed and a peng of jealousy ran through him, one, because no one wants to see their sister doing that to their ARCH NEMESIS, and second of all, Out of everyone in hell, why did he have to choose you?
Yes you were nice, he guessed, but he's seen you be a feral little menace when the two of you were young, Alastor could do better [No he couldn't]
What did you have that Vox DIDN'T? Sure you didn't have a giant tv for a head but you also weren't an overlord like he was, you didn't have the connections he did, you didn't have a whole company that dominated the tech industry, you didn't HAVE what he did.
But you did have what he desperately wanted
You have Alastor's heart,
You get the adoring looks, you get the whispers of pure affection, you get to dance with him, you get Alastor.
No matter what Vox did, Alastor would never look at him the way he did you, he would never give him the look of pure affection, he would never ask him to dance, he would never give him his heart.
And that tore Vox apart.
So If he couldn't have Alastor, Neither could you.
To him, You either needed to get redeemed quickly and go up above or you were going to be joining the Vee's, whether you liked it or not.
Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in! I know I said Rosie headcanons where supposed to be up next but I ran into some technical difficulties [my writing app crashed and a big chunk of it got deleted so I am not happy about that] anywho, Vox is a funky TV dude and I like the implications that he's lovesick about Alastor,
I need to finish my Vox fic because he's toxic there.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x reader#alastor x you#vox x reader#alastor imagine#radiosilence
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I'm the boy next door, let me come in🔞
Part 2 to this fic
Relationships: Ghost x verse!Male Reader
Synopsis: You meet him years later and he still can't forget you.
Master List
Simon doesn't text back anymore. You aren't so much surprised as disappointed to know it would end this way. He has a wife to go home to, and your next client wouldn't wait for you to get over the very one-sided heartbreak.
The chat ended on a single message from Simon.
["Take care, luv. Hope this helps you with your dream."]
A transfer of ten thousand pounds into your bank account. You don't want to know how he acquired said information, given he is a military man, you wouldn't put it pass him to have used his clearence to search you up. Would it have killed him to do it in person? No. But anything, is better than nothing from a man you should have never gotten attached to.
It's a bittersweet end and the end of your "relationship" with the man.
---
A cigarette between his lips and his moment of peace was interrupted by his secretary entering his office after two knocks.
"Mr Riley, you have an upcoming meeting at two with the Mr Decartes, should I arrange for him to wait in the conference room?"
He flicks two fingers (yes) and snuffs out the cigarette. The Riley family always had a name in the military business, and the newly retired lieutenant returned home to Manchester to hold the reins to his family empire. Post military life is mundane, he supposed. There's no threat of being knived or shot when out bumbling about the streets of the city and most people give him a wide berth of space, if nothing but fear of his size. The skull mask is gone, replaced by a simple black mask concealing the bottom part of his face.
---
The train to Edinburgh is packed to the brim and per his request, the entire business coach is booked out to give him some semblance of privacy. The online meeting is rotting his brain with the incessant business partners and their multitude of requests. Eventually, the meeting ends not before the train is slowing to stop.
"Dear ladies and gentlemen, due to a railway signalling fault, we are unable to proceed to Edinburgh and the train will be stopping at Carlisle. Please speak to a train attendant if you have questions about transfers and continuing your journey."
Fuckin' hell and now even the train is conspiring against him. The attendant is apologetic and informs him of his choices. Return to Manchester on the train in three hours or wait for an unspecified time for the next train to Edinburgh. Either way, he isn't reaching his destination within the same day.
---
He has hours to burn, and he begins with getting coffee. Carlisle isn't a big city and he spends some time walking about the place and looking at things. Whatever British people did for fun. His mindless walk brings him to a flower shop and before his mind could object, he was pushing past the doors and the sweet chime into the cool and empty shop. There is nobody at the counter and he rings the bell.
"Coming!"
Sounds of shuffling as a man returns from the rear of the shop and you stop behind the counter.
"Hey, is there anything I can do for you?" You flash him a smile and he is taken back by the sight. It's the man he's had a fling with five years ago but there is no recognition in your eyes. Was it the mask?
"I'm looking for something for a business deal."
"Oh, do you know what arrangement you would like?" He looks confused and you continue. "We can make it in different sizes and shapes if you have any in mind?"
"Not really. Do you have pictures?"
"Sure do." You grab the folder of pictures and flipped to the business section. When you looked up, the man has an unfathomable look on his face. He takes his time reviewing through the photos and asks several questions about the shop. How did it come to be etc. You tell him about the ten thousand dollars a man left for you once and he knows, confirms it is you.
"So I moved from London up north here to settle down and open my shop. Business is doing well and I've just received a giant order for a wedding. Might need to hire some people to help me out there."
He doesn't know what his traitorous mind was on when he mouth blurts out how willing he is to help. He is dressed in some formal attire and clearly not a contract worker but he is insistent, so you relent and tell him to meet you after dinner. Especially knowing how difficult and costly it is to hire rush work.
---
Edinburgh is the last thing on his mind when he shows up to your shop at eight in the evening. He opted for a large hoodie and some sweats and you usher him into the back of the store where the greenhouse is. His mask is still on and the hoodie is drawn over his head and you crack a joke about dressing correctly since it's cold in the greenhouse.
You make the first of many bouqets and he examines the shape and quantity of flowers in it. The silence is amiable and the man is a fast worker. Precise and controlled, his first bouqet is beautiful and well made. You disappeared into greenhouse to get more flowers and he follows you back in. Midway through the gathering of some flowers and he speaks.
"You don't remember me."
You give him a puzzled look and set the flowers back down. Did you know him?
He sighs and pulls back his hoodie and removes the mask on his face. It's him. It's Simon.
---
"What are you doing here, Simon?"
He sips his coffee and the both of you are seated behind the counter.
"The train broke down and 'm was exploring the city. Stumbled upon your shop and …"
"Are you no longer in the military?"
"Left the job. Had to go home and run the business."
He is still an absolute looker even five years later and his fingers gently brush against yours where it stays.
"Simon, your wife--"
"We're divorced. She's no longer my wife." He elaborates something along the lines of a falling out between the two families over business.
"Oh."
His hands are rough and calloused, and they hold yours.
"It wasn't a possibility then, but … I--"
"Simon, we can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Did you really love me? We had a fling, not a real relationship. I am past the age of flings and I want a real relationship."
"I can give yer that. Only if you would let me."
"Si--" And the rest of the sentence was stolen by his lips against yours. He is insistent and all of the walls you imagined comes crashing down at the taste of him and the hand on your thigh.
"Luv, fuck, missed yer fuckin' lips." And your moan is breathy as his touch crept up your thighs.
---
You weren't sure how it happened, but the kiss ends with you and him in the greenhouse and his hands in your pants. He is pleasure incarnate and his hands move with an urgency to feel you. They roam across expanses of skin before digging into flesh and unbuttoning your jeans. Your mind is drunk on the pleasure and your dick is aching to be touched, with the way it bobs up and down.
The touches are something clandestine, and you used to be his illicit affairs. Now, you are his partner? Lover? The definition is irrelevant as he turns you around to face him before pushing you into the wall. His dick is freed from his joggers where they tented the garment obscenely and he hands rest at your hips.
"If yer asking how serious I am, 'm fuckin' serious about this." The whispers of past encounters are strong and he gives your dick a few strokes before he hugs you tight and your dick pokes against his ass.
"Fuck, Simon, you sure about this?" His response is a sloppy kiss and a muffled yes.
"Have you done this--"
"Nobody. There's nobody after you." Fuck, if that doesn't send your desires higher to know he saved himself for you all these years.
You finger him gently to loosen his rear and gently slide into him until he is moaning and spasming around your dick. He is impatient and tugs your hand but you refuse to fully bottom out, knowing this is likely foreign to him and unwilling to hurt him. Tight, warm heat hungrily swallows your length and you fight off the urge to slam your hips into him—to show him who controls his pleasure. Gruff and gravelly moans get louder with each thrust and with eyes lidded in pleasure, he takes dick so beautifully and you reward him with kisses and bites to his neck. He chokes at the feeling of skin breaking when you leave a hickey. The sudden imagery of domming him and making him beg to cum is fire in your veins and you slow your thrusts.
"C'mon, fuck, yer heathen, stop teasin'." He gets another kiss and he whines.
The great Simon whining like a pup and trying to get himself off on your dick after years of abstinence is making your head all muddy. His hips squirm and he grumbles when you pull out of him only to turn him around to face the wall. The smack of his hands against the wall is loud when you enter him without warning and he is practically clawing at the walls to remain standing under the onslaught of pleasure.
"Fuck, not gonna last if you keep doin' this," and true to his word, his greedy hole tightens around you as he tipped his head back into a moan. Your hand guides him through his orgasm as the wall is coated with pent up ball batter and you are finishing in him with a whine and whimper.
He felt as divine as ever, even when he is below you and twitching from the aftershocks of an orgasm. Mercifully, he doesn't fight your attempts to clean him up even if a clench of his core meant more of your cum is dripping down his thighs. Your dick jumps at the creamy sight but Simon is fully sated and you are content to wait.
Here in the shop, everything feels right. Hearts aligned in a bow drawn taut towards love are yours and his.
---
"Simon, the dog is fighting the mailman again."
"Fuckin', luvvie, its your decision to get a dog."
"You didn't say no when we were at the shelter."
He groans when you shift on his lap while keeping him warm and cozy as the dick in your ass pokes against your prostate. Pre spills from your dick and he swipes a finger through the milky substance for a taste.
"This is, all your damn fault," you choke out between pants when his dick juts into further into you.
"Can't blame a man for wantin' more, sweetheart. Now sing for me," and those hips are determined to be the death of you. Ah, the joy of pleasure and to die from it, you think you could die happy in the lap of your man.
Raspy growls and a man possessed to chase and seek pleasure after years of draught is a dangerous combination. Your head rests against his shoulder amdist thrusts jostling your body.
"Fuck it, he can deal with that damned dog while I make you cum, darling."
#fanfic#cod mw2#male reader#x male reader#x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x male reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x male reader#cod#simon riley x reader#simon riley x male reader#ghost fanfiction#cod x male reader
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okay but wht if instead of a cheerful reader, theyre serious, strict, and quiet. AND WANDA WOULD BE GOLDEN RETRIEVER TYPE
but oh boy, behind the walls wanda's making reader making noises.
imagine if this is professor! wanda x college student reader too :>
AFTER CLASS | wanda maximoff x fem!reader
summary: your professor, wanda, asks you to stay behind after class.
content warnings: minors dni! professor!wanda maximoff x student!reader, college au, unspecified age gap, smut!; semi public sex, oral and fingering (r! receiving), multiple orgasms (?), wanda being horny
word count: 3.3k
note: golden retriever gf wanda x black cat!reader im gonna cry (it would also fit the other way around but thinking about wanda being a golden retriever gf is so cute !! )
“Please, meet me after class. I have something important to discuss.”
It was a simple statement — one that you have heard millions of times from this specific professor, who also happened to be your lover. Wanda had developed a somewhat customary routine of asking you, her diligent student and girlfriend, to remain behind after class. The gesture had become so familiar that it had almost taken on an air of expected routine. Wanda's expressive eyes, frequently framed by her glasses, would glint with a mixture of affection and anticipation, while her lips, adorned with a subtle smile, conveyed a tender invitation.
And while you loved being with her, you, ever the dedicated student, found yourself caught in a tug-of-war between your commitment to her academic responsibilities and the allure of being in the presence of your girlfriend. It had become a delicate balancing act, a hesitant dance between your desire to excel in your studies and the yearning to cherish the moments spent with Wanda. Not to mention, she’d often keep you from going to your next class just because her desires for you often left your legs wobbly and your body tired and sleepy, so you’d spend the rest of the day with her, nap in her office for a bit, then she’d let you go to go to your dorm or take you home with her which was what would usually happen.
Sitting in the classroom, you found yourself caught in a tantalizing dichotomy. As your eyes flickered between the pages of your notebook and Wanda, your alluring professor, frustration simmered within you. Another problem. The struggle to concentrate on the subject matter intensified as Wanda commanded the room's attention with effortless grace. Dressed in a form-fitting suit that accentuated her curves and exuded confidence, Wanda possessed an undeniable magnetism that made it near impossible for you to focus on anything else. She always teased you, knowing very well how much you liked it when she left her shirt unbuttoned at the top, only just a hint of her cleavage showing just for you to see. The way Wanda's tailored blazer hugged her slender frame, subtly revealing her silhouette, was both a distraction and a temptation. Your gaze would inadvertently drift from your notes, drawn to the way Wanda's perfectly pressed trousers elongated her legs, highlighting their elegant contours.
With each captivating gesture and poised movement, Wanda effortlessly commanded the attention of the room, her voice carrying an air of intellectual allure. Your heart raced as you observed the subtle nuances of Wanda's expressions, your mind entangled in a constant battle between admiration and yearning.
And it was just as entertaining to Wanda. She loved the way your eyes looked when you stared at her. In every lecture, every discussion, Wanda could feel your eyes, a gaze filled with a mixture of love and curiosity. It delighted her to no end, a secret amusement that sparked joy within her heart. The way your gaze lingered on her, studying her every movement and expression, whispered secrets that words could not convey. It was an intoxicating sensation, the feeling of being the center of someone's world.
And you were quiet; always sitting poised at your desk, diligently taking notes as she spoke, your demeanor radiating an air of reserved seriousness. Your eyes either scanned the pages of your textbook or listened intently with unwavering focus, your every movement exuding a quiet you. You existed as a paradoxical enigma—a reserved, strict, and quiet student whose essence exuded an understated magnetism.
Yet, behind closed doors, Wanda, your passionate and daring lover, held the key to unlocking the dormant passions within you. She was quite the expert in breaking that calm facade of yours. With an intimate understanding of your hidden depths, Wanda possessed the power to awaken the dormant embers, igniting a fiery passion that raged between the two of you. It was in these moments of seclusion that your reserved nature was shed, revealing a vulnerability that echoed through every delicious gasp and moan that escaped your lips.
There were times when Wanda would purposely lock eyes with you, a playful challenge passing between the two of you. In those moments, a silent dialogue unfolded, a dance of shared fascination and unspoken desires. It was a dance that brought a sparkle to Wanda's eyes and quite adorable flush to your cheeks, an unspoken connection that bound you together.
While she had you in her class, she always wished for time to go faster, leading up to the moment when she’d have you alone, all to herself, for her to love you without any interruptions. She thought about you every second of class, missing your touch, your skin, your lips. You’d let her, right? You always do. Because it was her asking.
As the final words of Wanda's lecture echoed in the classroom, your gaze would wander towards the clock, mindful of the ticking seconds that drew you closer to your next class. The familiar request to stay behind reverberated in your ears, accompanied by a soft flutter in your heart. A part of you longed to linger, to bask in the warmth of Wanda's company, to have whispered conversations, to kiss and make love.
“(Y/n). My office,” she said firmly, taking some papers off of her desk before walking through the door of her private workroom.
It was a covert demand, a subtle plea to rendezvous away from prying eyes, to indulge in stolen moments of intimacy.
As the room gradually emptied, Wanda's eyes never wavered from your form, tracing the delicate curves of your face, the softness of your lips, and the sparkle in your eyes as packed your books and papers into your bag. Each passing moment intensified the desire that lay hidden between the two of you, adding a subtle thrill to your secret tryst. Finally, the last student departed, leaving the room bathed in an intimate hush. Wanda's voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper as she beckoned you closer, your gazes locking in a knowing exchange.
A conflicted sigh fell from your lips as you stood from your seat and made your way over to where Wanda held the door to her office open for you, watching the sexy sway of your hips as you walked. She had to fight to stop herself from grabbing you, pushing you against a wall, then having her way with you. With practiced composure, Wanda maintained an outward appearance of professionalism, her gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside. But beneath the facade, her heart quickened with anticipation, knowing that she was finally alone with you.
She shut the door and turned around to face you, leaning against it as she watched you.
“What did you want to discuss, professor?” you asked, glancing up at the clock above her window.
You stood in the intimate sanctuary of Wanda's office, the air thick with anticipation and an undercurrent of shared desire. The room, adorned with shelves of books and mementos of scholarly pursuits, seemed to come alive as your presence filled the space. Time seemed to slow, suspended in the charged moment, as your eyes took in every detail, waiting for your girlfriend to reply to your question.
With a bated breath, you turned around, your heart skipping a beat at the sight that awaited you.
There, leaning against the doorframe, was Wanda, a radiant smile adorning her face. The soft light filtering through the window illuminated her features, casting a warm glow upon her. In that instant, time stood still once again, encapsulating the profound affection that emanated from Wanda's loving gaze.
And at that moment, you realized what was coming next.
“Wanda…”
Wanda pushed herself off of the door and unbuttoned her suit jacket before walking towards you and placing her hands on your hips, “Stay. Please?”
“Wanda, I have to get to my next class.”
“No, no, no. Stay,” she pleaded, leaning forward to litter gentle kisses along your jaw down to the side of your neck. “Please, stay. I want you.”
You kept your hands at her shoulders, not sure whether you wanted to push her away or keep her close as she kissed your skin in a way that made your knees go weak.
“No, Wanda—“
“Look, I’ll send an email or a note, or something. I’ll make up some excuse,” she said quickly, shooting you with those puppy eyes that always seemed to get you to agree to whatever she was saying. “Please, baby. I’ll be quick, promise. I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”
And it worked.
You stood before her, your expression a tapestry of conflicted emotions. A sigh escaped your lips once more, a breath laden with a blend of disbelief and surrender. It was a look that spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment that you were about to relinquish control, bending the rules of convention to fulfill Wanda's desire. As you met Wanda's gaze, your eyes betrayed a flicker of disbelief, an incredulous awe that danced within their depths. It was as if the gravity of the moment, the realization that you were about to give in to Wanda's request, weighed upon you like a beautiful burden.
Wanda, on the other hand, couldn't contain her excitement, a radiant joy that illuminated her entire being. The corners of her lips curled upward, revealing a playful and endearing smile. Her eyes sparkled with childlike enthusiasm, mirroring the delight that bubbled within her. Your decision to stay, to sacrifice another class just to be in Wanda's presence, filled her heart with warmth and tenderness.
You glared at her, mumbling softly enough for her to hear, “Don’t rip anything.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Wanda, her eyes sparkling with delight, couldn't help but break into a warm and affectionate smile as she beheld your commitment to grant her deepest desires. With a tender grace, Wanda leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. Her lips met yours, sighing in relief as you moaned into her mouth.
In the delicate space between your lips, Wanda felt an electric surge of desire coursing through her veins. It wasn’t just the touch of your lips that sparked a radiant smile upon Wanda's face; it was the intoxicating sound that escaped from your mouth, blending seamlessly against her tongue.
You, known for your reserved nature and quiet demeanor, were a symphony of contradictions in that moment. The gentle melody of your moans reverberated against Wanda's lips, a harmonious composition that stirred a wellspring of emotions within both of you. Each sweet, muffled sound that escaped your throat spoke volumes, revealing a side of you that had long been kept hidden from the world. As Wanda smiled into the kiss, she marveled at the power she held over your inhibitions. The way your body trembled against hers, the way your moans seamlessly merged with the shared breaths, all spoke of profound trust and surrender. It was an exquisite revelation, an invitation into the depths of your desires.
In that stolen moment, Wanda tasted not only the sweetness of your lips but also the vulnerability and passion that emanated from within her. Your moans, once silenced in the shadows of your reserved nature, now spilled forth with unbridled intensity. The sounds echoed with a mixture of pleasure, longing, and the liberation of self-expression.
But, soon, Wanda remembered she wasn’t in the confines of her home, where you could be as loud as she wanted. The two of you were still in her office, a private room within her lecture hall — a room that was definitely not soundproof.
Wanda sighed, whispering against your lips, “I want to taste you.”
You almost felt lightheaded with the way she began to kiss you behind your ear, down to the curve of your neck, and her hands sneaking their way under your shirt and underneath your skirt, pulling them up roughly. Wanda pushed you with her body until your backside hit the front of her desk, groaning when you clawed at her jacket.
“Try to stay quiet for me, baby,” she said, her hands playing at the hem of your skirt. “Okay?”
You nodded quickly, reaching up to put a hand on her hair, tugging at it lightly just the way she likes it, “Yeah.”
Wanda smiled once again and gave you another searing kiss before she slowly made her way down to her knees. She knelt, her face leveled with your skirt as she pushed your hips against the desk, holding you still. After a moment of enjoying the way you gripped onto her hair lightly even when she hadn’t began doing anything yet, Wanda let her hands run along the back of your soft thighs, trailing them upwards to your ass as she hooked your lace panties on her thumbs. She also remembered her promise, fighting the urge to rip your panties right off of you.
“Did you dress up all pretty for me, baby?” She smiled against the fabric of your skirt, slow hands pulling your underwear off, then stuffing them into her back pocket for safekeeping.
“Mhmm,” was all you could muster out as you stared down at Wanda.
“Of course, you did,” she looked up at you with a sly smile. “Makes it so easy for me to fuck you.”
Her fingers slip through your folds softly, coating them with your slick. She made you watch as she brought her fingers up to her lips, letting her mouth wrap around her own digits, groaning at the taste of you on her tongue. And you could see it — how wet you were. It dripped along her rings, down the back of her hand, and to the watch on her wrist.
Before you could even protest, Wanda’s head disappeared under your skirt, eyes finally meeting the gorgeous sight of your beautiful cunt. She didn’t know if it was just because she was in love with you, but she had never seen a prettier pussy. Your scent filled her nostrils each second she came closer, drawing her in like a moth to a flame, up until she pressed a gentle kiss on your clit. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly as she continued to kiss your pussy, before her tongue darted out to lick your slick from your entrance all the way up to your clit.
“Fuck…” Wanda breathed to herself, moaning at your warmth and sweetness. God, you tasted so good.
You trembled against her as she worked her tongue on your pussy, clasping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. Wanda hummed against your clit, vibrations making you stutter slightly as she listened to you struggle to keep quiet. Her hands gripped your thighs open as she continued to delve deeper over your most sensitive parts.
After a moment, Wanda eased a finger into you, mouth moving to work over your sensitive clit as she curled her finger against your walls. You gasped when she did so, hips squirming against her desk.
“W-Wanda,” you breathed out quietly, your hand messing up her hair as you tugged on it. “I-I’m close…”
Your girlfriend couldn’t help but smirk against you, listening to the way you whispered while her fingers and your wet cunt made the loudest squelches that sounded throughout the room. She twisted her finger in and out of you; pumping, and pumping, and pumping… wrapping her mouth around your clit and sucked hard.
Your body went rigid as she fingered you faster, as she sucked on you harder — the licking and sucking paired with the ridiculously lewd wet noises coming from her was driving you closer and closer to the edge. Humming a deep moan, Wanda slid in a second finger, fucking you thoroughly with her digits. You let out a strangled moan, bringing your other hand down to her head, and began slowly bucking yourself into her mouth; orgasm building in the pit of your stomach as she fucked you.
“W-Wandaa…” you whined, still trying your best to stay quiet.
Every breathy moan and whimper that came from your lips shot straight towards Wanda’s own heat, knowing very well that no one else but her could hear you like this.
She pumped her fingers in and out of you, building and building and building up closer to your orgasm until the band that held you together finally snapped, causing you to bring one hand up from Wanda’s hair to clasp it over your mouth. You muffled your loudest moan as best as you could while Wanda helped you ride your orgasm out, pulling away from your clit after giving it a gentle kiss that made your legs stutter. Wanda kept her fingers inside of you as she stood from her knees, kissing up your stomach, the valley of your breasts, your neck, then lastly meeting your lips. You moaned into her mouth, tasting yourself on her tongue.
Before you could even pull away, Wanda slowly began to pump her fingers into you once again. She used her mouth to muffle your moans along with hers as your hands clawed at her back. Wanda didn’t stop, continuing to finger you until you couldn’t take it anymore. Even after riding out your orgasm, you began to squirm underneath her, desperately trying to shut your legs.
Every part of you was so sensitive and Wanda only sought out more.
Your jaw went slack as you tried your best to keep kissing her, but you couldn’t help but keep your mouth open to let out silent moans as she fucked her fingers into you, “W-Wanda, please—I’m gonna cum again—“
Wanda smiled wickedly, “Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and give me another one, baby?”
Your second orgasm hit like a freight train. Wanda used her free hand to clasp her palm over your mouth, muffling the scream that you were about to let out. Your body trembled against hers, arching your back as you continued to shake.
Wanda held you close, creating a cocoon of safety and warmth as you trembled in her arms. With whispered tenderness, Wanda's voice caressed your ear, a soft symphony of soothing words that washed over you like a balm. In the hushed tones of her whispers, she wove a tapestry of affectionate reassurances as you calmed down from your high, letting you rest your head in the crook of her neck, catching your breath. Fingertips brushed tenderly against the nape of your neck, soothing the frayed edges of your being.
“Thank you for staying with me,” Wanda whispered, holding you close against her.
“You’re insufferable,” you say, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek which, in turn, made her smile.
“You love me.”
In the quiet intimacy of the space you shared, Wanda, the professor who held both authority and affection in her gaze, leaned in closer to you. The air between you crackled with anticipation, a delicate dance of playful tenderness. With a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Wanda's eyes locked onto yours, capturing your attention.
Wanda kissed you on the lips tenderly, humming softly against your mouth. It held the delicate balance of tenderness and playfulness, conveying a profound depth of affection. The kiss lingered, even long after she pulled away, the hint of her taste resting on your lips. She smiled down at you, hands carefully caressing your waist, keeping you close.
“Now, about those grades,” she said lightheartedly.
In return, you scoffed and slapped her shoulder playfully, rolling your eyes at the statement, “You’re so annoying.”
“I’m kidding,” Wanda smiled and pecked your lips again. “How about dinner later? After your classes, of course.”
You, with your quiet and reserved nature often concealing the depth of your emotions, met Wanda's gaze with a knowing smile. It was a smile that held a myriad of secrets and unspoken truths, a silent affirmation of the connection that had blossomed between the two of you.
The corners of your lips curled upwards, a delicate dance of vulnerability and understanding. It was a smile that spoke volumes—a gentle acknowledgment of the unspoken desires. In that knowing smile, Wanda found solace, reassured that her invitation had been met with reciprocation.
— navigation!
#bellaveux writes!#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda x reader#marvel x reader#avengers x reader#elizabeth olsen#marvel#elizabeth olsen x reader
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Snow, Scarves, and Schemes
Sebastian Sallow x f!Reader (unspecified Hogwarts House)
Word Count: 14.8k (oops)
Content Warnings: Slight angst
Summary: Y/N is sick of Leander Prewett trying to court her. Luckily, she has a best friend named Sebastian Sallow who would love to help put an end to it. They devise a plan to pretend to court up until the Yule Ball. Should be simple, right? If only.
Or, the classic friends to lovers, idiots in love, fake dating scenario.
Also available on AO3
---------------
Y/N paced back and forth nervously in the Undercroft. This was a stupid idea. Utterly rubbish. She considered going back to her common room, but knew it was already too late–she’d sent him an owl, after all. A bloody owl with a bloody note asking for help and to meet her in the Undercroft. She couldn’t flee now; he’d just track her down and badger her about later.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the door to the Undercroft opened with the boy she was waiting for waltzing through. He’d shot up in height the summer after their fifth year—he now nearly had to duck coming in the doorway. He’d been a twig for a brief moment after his growth spurt (a fact that Y/N had taken to her advantage and teased him with) but he had quickly filled out in the months that followed. Now, Sebastian Sallow stood tall and broad before her, the changes from the last two years evident to her eyes. It made her feel a little intimidated. Not that Sebastian himself was intimidating—she knew him too well to ever fear him. And he knew her well enough that she wouldn’t put up with any of his nonsense. The last two years of friendship had made them very close—of everyone in Hogwarts, Sebastian was easily the person she trusted the most, despite some of the difficulties throughout their time together. He’d really come far in proving himself redeemed—the fact that Anne now spoke to him attesting to his progress. It was her trust in him that led to this moment now.
“I got your owl, what’s happened?” He’d seen her nervous only a handful of times before. For the most part, Y/N was a girl who didn’t let things get to her—she made a habit of running headfirst into danger, thinking of the consequences only in passing. So, the way she was wringing her hands was most unusual. “You said you needed help, are the poachers back around Hogwarts?”
She shook her head quickly, finally meeting her eyes. “No, nothing like that. It’s just—oh this is stupid, I shouldn’t have sent that owl—”
“Too late,” Sebastian teased. “I know something’s afoot, I won’t rest until I find out what it is.”
“I know, I know!” She sighed. “You can’t laugh, alright?”
A signature smirk settled on his face. “No promises.”
She groaned. “Look, you know Leander Prewett, right?”
The events leading up to Y/N’s hastily scribbled note came back full force. Leander had followed her from her Herbology class down to Potions. Most of the time, Y/N had Sebastian and Ominis by her side, and could quickly dismiss the arrogant Gryffindor. But today, Sebastian had ‘accidently’ spilled a bag of dung all over Garreth Weasley’s feet, and Professor Garlick had insisted Sebastian stay behind to clean it up. Poor Ominis, guilty only by association, had been roped in as well. So Leander had taken his chance and walked out of the classroom with Y/N.
Because their conversations were usually cut off by Y/N running off to Sebastian and Ominis, Leander would typically ask how she was, make some snide remark about a Slytherin, and then ask her out. Sometimes she answered with a simple “No, thank you,” sometimes she made excuses of how busy she was, and sometimes, when she was really at her wit’s end, she’d pretend she hadn’t heard the question before claiming she saw Ominis’s blond hair up ahead and running off. But today she couldn’t find a reason to run.
And so, Leander strode up to her in the hall. “How are you, Y/N?”
“Just fine, thank you,” she stated simply, not even meeting eyes with the red-headed boy.
“Pretty low of Sallow to dump that dung all over. Typical Slytherin. Serves him right to have to clean it all up.”
She didn’t give him a reply this time, electing to roll her eyes instead. The whole Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry had always seemed pointless and melodramatic to her, though she had to admit she disliked it coming from Leander a lot more than hearing it from Sebastian or Ominis.
“What would you say to a trip to the Three Broomsticks with me this weekend, eh? My treat, of course. Could make a date of it.”
She let out a sigh. “I’d say no thank you, Leander.”
He scowled a bit. It was no secret to the majority of the students in their year that Leander had been chasing after Y/N for some time now. Ever since she became the “hero of Hogwarts” (a title she loathed to be remembered by), he’d had his eye on her. She had always felt it was less than actual attraction and more of a claim to fame that had him on her tail. But he was persistent.
“Why won’t you let me take you out, Y/N? We could end up enjoying ourselves, you know. I pride myself in being good company.”
“Because I don’t want to , Leander.” She was growing exasperated with him quickly.
“Want to? Or don’t think you can?” Leander frowned at her. “I know your friends with Sallow, and if I’d hazard a guess, I’d say he’s trying to poison you against me.”
She stopped walking, aghast. “I’d say it’s yourself who led to any ill-feelings I have toward you.”
“Then why not give a chance at settling some of those ill-feelings?”
Her fists clenched at her sides, and before she knew what she was saying, the words came tumbling out of her mouth—the words she almost immediately grew to regret.
And now in the present, Sebastian's eyes narrowed. “That prat? What about him?”
Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at his sour reaction. “Well, it’s to do with him. You see, he keeps asking me out—”
“You’re not planning on saying yes, are you?” he asked, an edge to his voice. Ah, that Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry.
“Of course not! Like you said, he’s a prat. A prat who won’t take no for an answer. Well, at least he wouldn’t, until I told him was already seeing someone…” She bit her lip, looking away from him.
Sebastian’s eyebrows raised. “You’re seeing someone? That’s news to him and me both, though I thought as your best friend I’d be a bit more entitled to that information.”
“That’s the whole problem, Sebastian! I’m not seeing anyone. I just needed a way to get him off my back, and now he’s suspicious, it was obvious he didn’t believe me—”
She was interrupted by a laugh. Sebastian was holding his arms over his stomach, nearly bent in half with the laughter shaking his body.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”
“I said no such thing.” He stood up straight again, still chuckling. “So, you need someone to pretend to be courting you, is that it?”
She blushed deeply, covering her face with her hands. “Yes, Sebastian. That’s what I need help with.”
“Well, I’m honored.” He grinned ear to ear. “What made you choose me over Ominis, if I may ask?”
“For one, most everyone has heard he’s courting Anne now, which would add some tension if he was supposedly courting both of us—”
“Ah, right,” Sebastian conceded. Ominis and Anne’s developing relationship was rather new, one that had completely blindsided Sebastian (which was ridiculous in Y/N’s opinion, she could see it from a mile away. The protective twin had simply been in denial), though he had approved nonetheless.
“And secondly, to be quite frank, Prewett… has a stronger distaste for you than for Ominis. I figured it would throw him off his game a bit more.”
“Strategic. I like it.” He clapped his hands together. “So, when do we start?”
Y/N brightened. “You’ll help me then?”
“Of course. You’re my best friend, Y/N, I’m happy to keep a slimy chap like Prewett off your back any day.”
She launched herself forward, tackling Sebastian in a hug. “Oh, thank you! You’re bloody brilliant, you know that?”
He gave a sly smile. “‘Course I do, though it’s nice to be reminded of it now and again.”
The two sat side by side, snacking on some of the nicked food they’d stored in the Undercroft. After practicing spells for a bit, they had gotten hungry and decided to take a break. Y/N broke a roll she was holding in half, setting one part into Sebastian’s outstretched hand. It was an unspoken system between them—always sharing what they ate.
“So,” Sebastian said between bites. “We should probably discuss the details of our arrangement, shouldn’t we?”
She glared at him. “You want some sort of payment for it?”
He put his hands up in surrender. “Not at all. I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. And seeing Prewett’s humiliated face.” He smiled at the chuckle this brought out of her. “I meant things like how long we plan to ‘court’, or how we want to go about… displaying it.”
She nodded, thinking. “Well, the Yule Ball is coming up. I think it’s part of why he’s upping his game.”
He hummed in agreement. “That’s in what, three weeks, is it?”
“Precisely. I figured we could court until a few days before the ball, then ‘break it off’. That way, you could ask whoever you wanted to be your date, and I could attend with Ominis as he helps me through my devastating heartbreak, like the true friend he is.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Sensible. Speaking of Ominis, you know we’re going to have to tell him we’re faking it, don’t you?”
“Oh, absolutely. He wouldn’t believe it otherwise. He’d call it out for what it was, and it’d all crumble before it started!”
Sebastian laughed. “He’s a decent liar. And he hates Prewett too, he won’t have any qualms with it.”
A chuckle made its way past her lips as she pressed another bit of food into Sebastian’s hand. “Now, as far as the ‘displaying it’ nonsense goes…”
Sebastian nodded solemnly. “This will be the most difficult part. I’ll have to tolerate your company, won’t I?”
The shove she gave him nearly tipped him over.
“Come on now! You know I’m joking!”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s me that tolerates you , we both know that. We’ll have to do a bit more than tolerate, anyway. I don’t imagine it’ll be too much, though. Perhaps holding hands, and occasional loving embrace, that sort of thing.”
“So I’m not getting a proper snog out of you is what I’m hearing?”
This time, the shove did tip him over. “You’re nothing but an overconfident rake, Sebastian Sallow!” Even as she said it, she smiled down at him.
“I’m not, and you know it. I’m a right and proper gentleman.”
“Right and proper gentlemen don’t talk about snogging in front of young ladies.”
“You’re my best friend, Y/N, you hardly count as a lady.”
There was a slight twinge of pain in her chest as he said those words. Since when did she not count as a lady? Sure, she preferred trousers to skirts and dresses, but they were simply more practical. She could out duel any witch or wizard who stood against her, but she liked to think she kept some amount of poise while doing so. And she thought herself quite respectable, at least until she got talking to Sebastian… perhaps he had a bit of a point. Most ladies would be aghast at arranging a fake-courting situation, and talking so plainly while doing so, but it was Sebastian . He felt more of an extension of herself at times than a boy she had met just over two years ago.
Y/N was in the middle of rolling her eyes when another voice joined the conversation. “What was that about snogging? Do the two of you need a moment alone?”
She grinned at the sight of Ominis walking toward them, his wand outstretched. “Oh, thank God you’re here Ominis. I don’t know if I could have spent another moment in the hell that is Sebastian’s company.”
“If that’s really how you feel, Y/N, our plan is doomed to fail,” Sebastian said, gathering more of their nicked food to share with the new addition.
“Plan? What trouble are you trying to get me into now?” Ominis asked as he sat on the floor beside them. Sebastian pressed an apple tart into his hand.
“Oh, nothing horrible, unless you think giving Prewett a heart attack is indecent,” Sebastian said.
“As… un-fond of Prewett I am, I still need to know what’s happening before I let anything proceed. What is it?”
Y/N sighed. “Well, Ominis, as someone who shares similar sentiments about Prewett, I… needed a way to get him to stop asking to take me out. I stupidly told him I was seeing someone, and Sebastian has graciously decided to step in and be that someone. Pretend to be that someone, I guess I should say.”
Ominis frowned. “And you need my help in what way?”
“Not in any way, really. Just go with it. Confirm it if people ask. Spread rumors when possible,” Sebastian said.
Ominis thought hard. Y/N could practically see the gears turning in his head, calculating every which way things could backfire. After a few moments, he seemed to come to the conclusion that nothing could go too terribly wrong. “All right. Whatever keeps Prewett at bay.”
Y/N threw an arm around him, startling him a bit. “Thank you, Ominis.”
He chuckled. “Anything for you. Now, if only I had someone to place bets with on how long the pair of you last.”
Ominis and Sebastian walked side by side back to the Slytherin common room. Y/N had departed a while before them, needing to catch up on a bit of her homework.
“Seems like an interesting plan the two of you have conceived,” Ominis said.
“Interesting indeed. Though I do have to say, it was pretty much Y/N who conceived it,” Sebastian replied easily.
“It’ll be… fascinating to see the two of you pretend to be a couple.” Ominis sounded thoughtful.
Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, if I’m honest, there’s been times I thought the two of you might have something between you.” Ominis tilted his head to face Sebastian a little bit more. “Never certain of it, though. Should I have been certain of it?”
His frown deepened. “Are you trying to say that one of us has feelings for the other?”
Ominis shrugged. “More or less. Any truth to that?”
Sebastian found himself thinking about the thought of that. Truth be told, he hadn’t done much of it before. He enjoyed spending time with Y/N, of course. It was always fun to throw her off by saying something unexpected. What was more was how well she did the same thing back. It kept him on his toes, always letting him expect the unexpected. She was talented, too, of course. He’d never forget that first duel they had, nor the ones they fought side by side in afterwards. She was an incredible witch. Beautiful, too, though that was common knowledge among most of the students in their year. It was just a fact. A statement. Y/N was beautiful, talented, funny, and exciting. Sebastian knew all of these things–-that didn’t mean he liked her, did it?
He realized there had been a bit too much of a pause after Ominis’s question. He quickly spat out the conclusion he had drawn to. “No, Ominis. She’s my best friend, right beside you. I haven’t felt that way, and I seriously doubt she’d ever feel that way towards me. Purely platonic.”
Ominis nodded, seeming like he expected as much. “Figured. Was just curious if this whole arrangement would bring anything out of the two of you. Perhaps it’s for the best—if the two of you really did start courting, I have a feeling the very walls of Hogwarts would have their days numbered.”
“Are you saying we’d be an awful couple?”
“Awful, or perfect together. I don’t think the castle would stand a chance at your mayhem in either case.”
Sebastian chuckled before changing the subject. What he had told Ominis had been true… hadn’t it? She was his best friend. They were nothing more, never had been, and never would be.
So why was he so glad Ominis couldn’t see how flushed he’d gotten at the thought?
Y/N picked at her breakfast the next morning—she’d only eaten a couple bites of her tart before setting it back on her plate, moving her eggs around instead. She imagined this is what it felt like for those on the Quidditch teams before a match. It was only by sheer luck that none of her friends around her seemed to notice her unease; perhaps they figured she got a bad night of sleep or something. They talked animatedly to one another. Y/N tried to listen, but found herself distracted with constant glances at the door.
It was very usual for Sebastian to be late to breakfast—or at times to miss it entirely. With all his late night mischief, he tended to sleep in as much as possible before coming down at the last minute to grab some leftover pastry and rush off to class. She started to wonder if he would show at all before they had to start heading to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
As if the thought had brought him into existence, Sebastian Sallow strode through the doors of the Great Hall, Ominis trailing behind. He glanced quickly around the room before his eyes landed on Y/N, a smile appearing on his face as he walked over.
Seeing him let something settle in Y/N’s stomach. What was she so worried about? Of course he would show up for her. He always had, hadn’t he?
Sebastian arrived at Y/N’s table and didn’t hesitate to reach over her, grabbing an apple off her plate. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”
Y/N scoffed. “Have you even looked outside yet? It’s a blizzard out there. I’m only grateful we don’t have to walk to Herbology in this mess.”
He shrugged. “Just because it’s snowing doesn’t mean it’s not lovely.”
A chuckle escaped her lips. “I suppose.”
He held out a hand to her, a prompting to head to class. “Come on then. Best we start our way over.”
The gesture wasn’t unusual coming from him, so she dedn’t hesitate to take his hand and stand. However, instead of letting their hands slide apart, his grip tightened as he laced his fingers between hers.
She turned away from him quickly, heading straight for the door. With their hands interlocked, he had no choice but to follow. She hoped she had turned quickly enough to keep him from seeing the blush that had crept up her cheeks. He had done that so… naturally. It stirred something inside her. She figured it was just her being impressed with his acting skills, and God knows Sebastian’s ego was already big enough—no need to let him know her astonishment of his actions to boost it further.
Once she felt she had collected herself enough, she turned her head to face him. “Did you finish your essay yet?”
He frowned. “What essay?”
“The one Professor Sharp assigned us in Veritaserum. Figured you’d find the topic interesting.”
His eyes lit up a bit. “Ah, yes, that one. Haven’t even started it, actually. Though I’m not nervous—I’d say the both of us know plenty to fill eleven inches of parchment.” He winked down at her, eliciting a smile on her lips. He was right about that. There was a period of time in their sixth year where Sebastian became determined to brew as many restricted potions as he could get the ingredients for. Veritaserum had been included in these, and the batch had resulted in an interesting night with Sebastian, Ominis, and Y/N spilling secret opinions on their classmates. “Perhaps we should brew another batch. I have a feeling Ominis isn’t telling me all the details of his letters with Anne.”
Y/N laughed and bumped shoulders with him, their interlocked hands keeping them both balanced. “Don’t torture your best friend for details about love letters, with you sister, no less.”
“Exactly! She’s my sister, I have a right to know!”
“I have the distinct feeling you wouldn’t want to know all the mushy things they write to each other.”
He rolls his eyes, but any annoyance comes across as ingenuine with the grin plastered on his face. “I’m not going to admit it, but maybe you’re right.” He leads them into the classroom, walking to the desk where Ominis already sat. Sebastian pulled out Y/N’s chair, allowing her to sit before taking his own beside her. A nice touch, she thought. Very in character.
Ominis chuckled to Y/N’s side. “The rumors have already begun. I overheard Poppy whispering about the two of you holding hands to someone, now that she’s got ahold of it, it’ll spread fast.”
Y/N grinned, meeting eyes with Sebastian beside her to see the smirk that had settled on his face. He stretched his arm above him, letting it settle on Y/N’s chair behind her. This was all too simple
The rest of the day continued on much the same. Sebastian was quick to hold her hand between classes, and with that the whispers around them became increasingly pronounced. It seemed too easy, really—Y/N supposed her close friendship to the boy leading up to this gave them some credibility as a believable pair.
By dinner, she couldn’t help but notice Leander Prewett positively fuming at the sight of them. He glared past all the tables, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away from Sebastian as he helped load food onto Y/N’s plate. She had to stifle a laugh.
“God, would you look at the awful sight of him?” she said, pulling her plate in front of her. “He’s livid.”
Sebastian smiled mischievously. “It’s beautiful to behold, really.”
Ominis frowned. “Well don’t leave me out of it.”
“Oh, you’re not missing much,” Sebastian replied, finishing up with his own plate and getting ready to dive into the meal. “Just Prewett tried to curse me with his glare alone. I suppose I should be grateful he never took to nonverbal spells.”
It wasn’t long until Imelda came over to the trio, Poppy and Natty trailing close behind her. Y/N held back a wince. Besides the two boys sat on either side of her, these three were her best friends. It was inevitable that they would confront her—especially with Imelda being, well, Imelda.
Her arms were crossed over her chest, a determined look in her eye. Natty stood off to one side, looking fairly unconcerned. Poppy, on the other hand, seemed nearly fearful.
“So,” Imelda said, looking between Y/N and Sebastian. “There have been rumors.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “About me? Pray tell.”
“About the two of you. ” She gave a tilt of her head to indicate Sebastian.
“I’m right here, you know,” he said.
“So am I,” Ominis interjected. “Though go on treating me like a broken broom, if you’d like.”
Y/N held back a laugh, trying to remain serious. Imelda rolled her eyes. “Just tell us if it’s true or not. Are the two of you… courting?”
Y/N shot a quick glance at Sebastian. The slight up-ticks in the corners of his mouth were all the reassurance she needed. “That we are. I’m surprised it took you all the entire day to ask me about it.”
Poppy let herself smile a bit behind Imelda. Funny, Y/N thought. She looked pretty happy about the development.
“We were surprised we weren’t the first to know,” Natty said.
“Well, to be fair, it’s a very new thing.”
“Long time coming, though,” Ominis mumbled.
Imelda’s suspicious eyes softened. “Well, alright. We just wanted to… confirm it, I suppose. It all seems a bit out of the blue, to be fair.”
Y/N shrugged, thinking fast. “These sort of things almost always are, aren’t they?”
“Not usually,” Poppy piped up.
“Well, this one was. In any case, I promise I’ll tell you all the whole story soon enough.”
“You better, L/N, or I’ll knock you off your broom,” Imelda said, smiling.
Y/N grinned back. “If you can catch me, that is.”
Imelda chuckled, waving a quick goodbye and leaving. Natty followed, but Poppy lingered for a moment. “She means well, you know. And for the record, I think the two of you complement each other.” After that, she scurried away.
Y/N turned back to Sebastian. Was his face a bit red? No, couldn’t be… though she admitted that last comment from Poppy had thrown her off a bit. “Well, the cat’s out of the bag.”
Sebastian smiled. “That it is. Seems like you have a story to come up with, too. I only ask you don’t make me too pathetic.”
Y/N groaned. “Bloody hell.”
When the next morning rolled around, Y/N somehow wasn’t surprised to see Sebastian standing at the entrance to the Great Hall. It seemed that his dedication to ‘courting’ her had trumped his need for a little more extra sleep. As she walked toward him, she watched his eyes scan the throng of students rushing back and forth. Something stirred in her stomach as she saw how intently he looked through everyone—the fact that his eyes were searching for none other than her.
How wonderful to have a friend who looked forward to seeing her that much.
Finally, his eyes landed on her. He… lit up, for the lack of a better term. A smile settled onto his face, and he pushed off of the wall he’d been leaning on, standing straighter. It was only a moment later he met her by her side.
“Morning, darling,” he said, as if he’d been waiting since the day before to say it.
That silly feeling in her stomach flared up again. “Good morning. I see the weather hasn’t gotten you down.”
His grin widened. “Down? You’re joking me, you know I love the snow.”
That much is true. She’d been teasing him all winter for that very fact; he’d looked like a child when Mr. Moon had started putting out the Christmas decorations—that elation only grew as the first flakes of snow settled on the castle grounds.
“It’s beautiful, Y/N, I seriously can’t see how you dislike it,” he says, taking her hand and leading her to the table.
“I don’t dislike it, it’s just… cold,” she replied. It was an honest answer. She’d always appreciated the snow from the distance; it was quite lovely to see Hogwarts and the surrounding hamlets covered in a blanket of snow. However, she wasn’t a fan of the chill–-it greatly limited her ability to go out and explore.
Sebastian sat down beside her. “Well then, I’ll take it as my responsibility as your companion to keep you warm.”
She wished she had something witty to reply back with. Instead, a blush fought its way to her face and she frowned. “You… yes. Do that, then.” She cleared her throat, looking around. “Where’s Ominis at?”
“Common room. He’ll be down shortly, he was just sending another letter to Anne before coming.”
She nodded. “We have Herbology today.”
“That we do.” He chuckled. “Merlin, am I excited to see Prewett’s face up close.”
“I hope it’s not too close. I wouldn’t put it past him if he were to try to duel you.”
“I almost hope he does,” Sebastian said, pulling some of the food off of Y/N’s plate. She slapped his hand away, but it was already too late. “I’d love to hex him onto his arse again.”
She shot him a warning glare. “Don’t you go starting anything. Ominis would kill us both if he had to pull his strings.”
He puts his hands up in a surrender. “Any spells I cast will be in self-defense only. I promise you that.”
It’s not long after that Ominis joins them, and then they were off to class. Once again, Sebastian’s hand found Y/N’s. There was still that slight pull in her stomach, a trace of unease in his fingertips. Normal things, she was sure, to have when holding hands with your best friend.
When they arrived in Herbology, the trio set themselves up at a table. The rest of the students came piling in and Y/N distinctly ignored the piercing gaze of Leander Prewett. She felt it on the back of her neck as class began and Professor Garlick gave instructions. It lingered as Sebastian pulled the pot they would be sharing onto the table, not giving her the chance to do it herself. And as the three of them spread soil into the pot, it bore into her still, not letting up for even a moment.
She felt she was about to combust from the heat of it when she noticed Sebastian’s grin beside her. Of course he was enjoying the whole thing—she’d have been a fool to think he’d feel any differently. She lightly slaped his arm with her gloved hand.
His eyebrows raised, not even phased by the ‘attack’, if one could consider it that. “And what was that for?”
“You’re enjoying yourself entirely too much .”
“Really? I was about to step it up a notch, I feel I’m not enjoying the moment to its fullest.”
And obviously, she couldn’t help but laugh at that. She always seemed to have a weakness for his quick remarks. His grin stretched further, if possible.
“Now, my dear, allow me to gather some seeds.” His face became terribly serious. “Don’t fret, I’ll only be gone a moment.”
She wanted to roll her eyes as he left, but instead, another chuckle made its way through her. Ominis let out a sigh. “And I thought he was insufferable before the two of you started this nonsense.”
The class carried on and Y/N found herself baffled again and again by Sebastian’s antics. First he insisted on not letting her leave the table for anything, running back and forth in the classroom to gather supplies. (Ominis didn’t complain about this aspect; he was completely content letting him weave through the tables like a mad-man.) Then he pulled the bag of soil away from her. When she tried to reason with him, he rattled on about how no lovely lady like her should get her hands dirty, to which she reminded him of all of the many, many times she’d proved herself most unlady-like in that sense. He didn’t relent. And finally, when class was over, he stood faster than a blink, offering his hand to help her up—to which, she rolled her eyes and took. It wasn’t this that surprised her—no, helping her up wasn’t extreme. It wasn’t something she would have even found outside of their friendship on a normal day. What caught her off guard was the bow he bent into as she stood, and the lips that pressed lightly, so very lightly , on the back of her hand. Her eyes widened.
He really was insistent on milking every last ounce of Prewett’s agony, wasn’t he?
In the bustle of students getting up and heading to the door, she doubted that many, if any at all, had seen this supposed display of affection. Even so, a tingle shot throughout her, settling right onto her warm cheeks. It was nerves, she reasoned. She was nervous about being caught in the scandal of one such as Sebastian Sallow being so physically affectionate toward her.
But as a figure stormed out of class, she realized the action had not gone completely unnoticed—as was the intention, she was sure. Leander Prewett strode past them, ears redder than the accents on his robes.
She’d have slapped the self-satisfied smirk off of Sebastian’s face if it didn’t look so bloody good on him. You know, in a completely platonic way.
Obviously.
They walked to Potions, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice that Ominis seemed in an awfully good mood, too. “I’m assuming the tantrum-like stomping I heard leaving the class was Prewett?”
“Tantrum-like,” Sebastian echoed. “A fitting way to describe him.”
“The two of you are awful, you know that?” Y/N said. She couldn’t help but be quite pleased with the outcome as well, though.
“‘Course we know that,” Sebastian replied.
Ominis grinned. “We’re not in Slytherin for nothing. Though to be a little fair to Prewett, I myself was getting a bit nauseous in there listening to the two of you. I only kept it together knowing it’s an over-the-top ruse.”
Sebastian scoffed. “Over-the-top. Not in the slightest, my dear Ominis. You just don’t know the first thing about romance.”
Y/N made no comment, though she was fairly certain Sebastian didn’t know much more about romance, either… He was doing a decent job at pretending to know, though.
They were fast approaching the classroom, and she winced to see Leander standing in the corridor leading up to class, arms folded and leaning against the wall in a sulk. His eyes shot up when he heard their footsteps, and he glared daggers directly at Sebastian. As they approached, he stood straighter, glancing between the three of them. She could see the nerves hidden behind his eyes.
“Could I talk to you, Y/N?” His eyes narrowed at Sebastian coldly. “ Privately?”
Sebastian tensed beside her. She was well aware of his protective streak. It was as deeply rooted in him as his charm, immovable as the freckles on his face. It was a part of her dear friend she both admired and grew tiresome of. But she was (almost) always good at talking him down, wasn’t she?
She tightened her grip on his hand. This time, it was a gesture of reassurance, not any sort of display for Leander–-though it could easily be taken as such. She looked up at him. “Go ahead into class. I’ll be right there, alright?”
He took a deep breath. It shuddered a bit on the way out. After a moment, he nodded. “Alright. But if it takes more than a few minutes, I’m coming back for you.”
He let go of her hand, and she found herself missing the comfort of the contact as he and Ominis continued down the corridor. She now faced Leander alone. “What is it you wanted to speak about?”
The red-head’s frown deepened. “It… seems,” he started, speaking as if each word physically pained him. “That you and Sallow are… involved. ”
About as much as she had been expecting. “And how is that your business?”
He gaped at her, as if she dare question his involvement in her affairs. “Because I thought you were a sensible person, Y/N. I still think you are, you’re just lost in this… nonsense.”
A small flame flickered somewhere in her chest. “Nonsense, you say?”
“Alright. It’s more than nonsense. It’s complete and utter rubbish. You’re blinded by Sallow, his false charm and party tricks.” Leanders fist clenched at his side, voice growing louder. “You’re better than this. Better than him. ”
Her jaw tightened. The flicker grew, sending heat down her arms and legs. “You’ll stop talking now, if you know what’s good for you.”
“No, Y/N. It’s I who knows what’s good for you. And what isn’t good for you is that conniving, sorry prick with no life ahead of him. He’s in detention every night. He’s ambitious for nothing but trouble, bound for nothing but a penniless life and an early grave.”
She hadn’t realized she’d pulled her wand out until it was aimed squarely at the Gryffindor’s chest. A raging fire burned inside of her, aching, needing to burst in a wave of fury. She had never felt anything like it.
It surprised her how steady the words were when she spoke them, how in control she was of the fire. “You are a fraction of the man Sebastian Sallow is. You know nothing of who he is, how it’s me who is undeserving of him . I would happily live a thousand penniless lives by his side before I ever even considered wasting a mere moment with you. So I’d suggest doing the greatest kindness you have the ability to provide, and piss off.”
Leander Prewett was stunned speechless. He stared at the girl–-no, the beast stood in front of him, at the wand poised to end him, and in the wisest decision he’d ever make, fled.
Y/N stood in the hall, just breathing for a moment. How dare he—how dare he even suggest he knew a single thing about her Sebastian? He saw only what he chose to, only what his jealousy allowed him. He was wrong.
It was a minute or two before she walked toward the classroom, still half-blind in her anger. It was this blindness that kept her from seeing the figure using a poor disillusionment charm, just a few steps down the hall.
Sebastian slipped into the classroom just after Y/N, charm dispelling as he entered the door. He saw Ominis’s head face toward them, and he’s sure he can feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. It was so tangible that there was no need for sight in sensing it.
She plopped into her usual seat next to Natty, not noticing how Sebastian sat after her at his own desk, even when he had been given very specific instructions to go on ahead of her.
As for his part in the incident, he was stunned .
He didn’t think he’d ever taken a Stupefy that had affected him as much as this.
While Ominis had continued down to the classroom, Sebastian had cast a disillusionment charm over himself and hid against the wall. He was very aware that this was likely an invasion of privacy, and that Ominis was right in scoffing and rolling his eyes at the action, but he was Sebastian Sallow, for Salazar’s sake. How could he resist listening in to a conversation bound to be about him, especially when the circumstances for eavesdropping were so simple?
(There was also the fact that something could go wrong. And if it did, he couldn’t leave the girl he was supposed to be courting to fend off Prewett on her own, as capable as she was.)
He’d heard every word leave Prewett’s mouth. He’d been ready to jump out and defend his honor when Y/N had done so for him.
And what a bang-up job she’d done, hadn’t she?
The words still echoed in his head. A thousand lifetimes… the ridiculous claim that she didn’t deserve him. He couldn’t wrap his head around any of it.
Ominis leaned over to whisper, pulling Sebastian out of his head and into the reality of Sharp’s droning about their assignment. “Seems like the conversation went swimmingly. Is she mad at you for butting in?”
“I didn’t butt in,” Sebastian whispered back. “She handled herself just fine.”
“It is Y/N we’re talking about, we’ve both known she’s completely capable for years now,” Ominis said. He frowned. “She’s still angry, though, isn’t she?”
“Oh she’s fuming. ” It was true. Natsai was looking quizzically at her friend, concerned at her stiff posture and clenched jaw.
“What is it she’s mad about?”
“She—” He found himself not wanting to say it. Not wanting Ominis to read into the things she had said, make them into something they weren’t.
He didn’t want to allow himself to read into it, either.
“Prewett was being a pratt. Said he knew her better, tried to convince her he knew better than she did. She told him to piss off. ”
That was enough of the truth, wasn’t it?
Ominis seemed to think so, giving a low hum. “Serves him right.”
Y/N didn’t calm down, even when the instructions were over and she and Natty went to gather the ingredients for their potions. Sebastian kept an eye on her, watching her chop ginger with much more force than was necessary. It doesn’t look like she told Natty anything–-the poor Gryffindor looked at her friend, completely at a loss. Blimey, he might’ve thought he was looking in a mirror. Sebastian decided he better do something about the situation.
He abandoned his meager start to the assignment and strided over to Y/N’s table, approaching her from behind. “I do believe the textbook says to cut the ginger into even slices, not to mutilate it.”
She gave a small start, turning to face him. He sees just a bit of the fury drop off her shoulders as they meet eyes. She let out a sigh, looking down at the ginger and wincing. “I’ve made a mess of it, haven’t I?”
“I bit, if I have to admit it.”
She groaned. “I’m sorry, he’s just… it was infuriating.”
“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your poor ginger. Let’s put it out of its misery, shall we?” He pulled out his wand, vanishing the sorry mess on her table before summoning the untouched ingredient he’d left on his desk. He set it down, smiling at her. “There. A fresh start.”
“Thank you.” He can tell by the look in her eyes that it’s more than just the ginger she’s talking about
“No, thank you.” As if it had a mind of its own, his hand found hers, giving it a light squeeze. “I quite hope he takes your advice and pisses off for the foreseeable future.”
Her mouth dropped open, but before she could say a word, he winked and walked back to his table.
The next few days went off without a hitch. Y/N and Sebastian played the part of the ideal courting couple, and none were the wiser. With each passing day, it became easier to hold hands, to lean in close and share conspiring whispers, to flirt and blush and play pretend.
(Curiously, the strange feeling in her stomach didn’t stop, as natural as these things became. Always nervous someone would see through it, she supposed.)
The rumors that had once been the very exciting topic of meals and corridor whispers turned slowly into accepted truth. There seemed to be no denying it. And as the Yule Ball loomed nearer, Y/N felt more and more at ease that she would not be asked to attend with Leander Prewett. He’d kept his distance since the Incident, as she’d taken to calling it, but felt that she’d be celebrating too soon if she thought he was done for good.
The Incident seemed not only to have an effect on Prewett. She hadn’t foreseen the consequences of Sebastian overhearing what she said, but really she didn’t think she would go back and change a single word she’d uttered. It had all been true. She knew him very well, as a friend, and she’d spend a thousand lifetimes with him, as a friend, and she sure as hell didn’t deserve him, as the bloody brilliant and completely wonderful friend he was.
Sebastian knew that.
Neither of them had spoken about it. They didn’t need to. There was nothing to address. Prewett had been stupid, Y/N had defended Sebastian, like a good friend , end of story.
So why did she still feel the weight of it whenever she saw him?
She figured it must be the leftover anger that coursed through her when she thought of Leander’s words, or the guilt that he had ever had to hear such things said about him. Yes, that was it. She wanted to reassure him. Say it straight to his face that that prat Prewett had it all wrong, and that he shouldn’t ever even consider things he said as truth. But that would have been an awkward conversation, and it was all implied anyway, so each time she thought about the Incident, she’d push it to the back of her mind.
She had been doing just that when Imelda caught her arm in the courtyard. “There you are! We’ve been trying to talk to you for ages .”
Y/N smiled at her, seeing Poppy in tow. “Oh? What about?”
Imelda rolled her eyes. “Don’t play coy, L/N. You still never told us the story about you and Sebastian. I mean, it's increasingly obvious the two of you are courting, but how? When? Why?”
“And have you kissed him yet?” Poppy added, grinning.
Y/N’s eyes went wide. “Poppy!”
The Hufflepuff smiled not-so-innocently.
Y/N shook her head in exasperation. “Look, it’s not as exciting as you both seem to think it is. We were walking together one day, he said he cared for me a bit more than friends, I said I felt the same, and here we are. And no, we haven’t kissed.” She’d thought carefully about the story she’d tell them, coming to the conclusion that a short, safe story was best. Fleshing it out with extreme detail would make it outlandish.
It was also hard for Y/N to think about how she and Sebastian might get together, for some reason. It caused that silly feeling in her stomach to turn.
Imelda frowned. “If I’m honest, I expected there to be a bit more to it. It is Sallow we’re talking about.”
Oh dear. Y/N shrugged, trying to hide any discomfort in the action. “Don’t know what to tell you. Sorry to disappoint.”
“You two have been getting along, though, haven’t you?” Poppy asked. “It seems like you are.”
“Of course we have been,” Y/N answered. “I mean, we were best friends before. Most of it feels… natural, really. Just a few added things. It’s… nice.” She was surprised that she didn’t get that uneasy feeling she normally had when telling a lie at those words.
They stopped pestering her about Sebastian (thankfully, she wasn't as good at coming up with lies on the spot as he is) and instead caught up on other things—homework, poachers, Quidditch, the usual. It was good spending some time with them. She almost didn’t notice the cold of the courtyard. Almost.
She started shivering at some point—with just her uniform and robe, the chill was quick to settle in. The slight breeze didn’t help, either, whipping away any warmth before she could keep it.
“And just what are you doing out here without a proper coat?” a voice said from behind her. She felt a bit warmer already. Sebastian smirked from beside her, looking over her shivering frame.
“I wasn’t planning on spending a lot of time here, we just… happened to meet,” Y/N explained.
He gave a playful scoff. “Ridiculous. Here, take this,” he said, removing the scarf from around his neck. Her hand opened to grab it, but… there was no need. Instead, he stood directly in front of her, passing the scarf over her shoulders and tying it snuggly without a word. He ran a hand against it, smoothing it out and pushing her hair out of her face. “There we go. Color suits you pretty nicely, too.”
He seemed very satisfied with his handiwork, taking a small step back to admire it. There were several moments of silence until Y/N realized she should probably say something.
“Um, thank you. That’s… much better now.” She was in fact, very warm now.
He chuckled. “I’ll see you later, darling.” And with that, he left.
She didn’t feel the chill at all anymore. Her stomach fluttered with that silly feeling, and her head spun with the scent of old parchment and fireplaces.
The snow fell in gentle flakes around her, and she realized it really was beautiful when she could feel the cold.
The Yule Ball was now only ten days away. It had come up faster than Sebastian thought it would—very recently, three weeks had seemed like a lifetime. Now each day went faster than the last.
With the winter chill growing ever stronger, Y/N had taken to wearing Sebastian’s scarf constantly. She could have swapped her own scarf out and returned his own, but… she hadn’t. He reminded himself that it added a very believable level to their act. It was physical proof that they were tied together, present even when they weren’t standing side by side. When they were apart, Sebastian sometimes thought of her somewhere off in the castle, his scarf tied around her neck, and Ominis would have to tap his shoulder out of his distant thoughts.
He wasn’t really sure what that was all about.
But right now, Y/N was by his side, sitting in the grass as they listened to Professor Garlick’s lecture. Herbology was mostly a hands-on event, but as they progressed toward their N.E.W.T.s, there were some plants to study that even Professor Garlick hesitated to put in front of them. Today she had ushered them outside, insisting that if they had to listen to her ramble on, they should at least feel the sun while doing so.
The snow had melted over the last couple of days, leaving the ground drier than it had been all winter. Sebastian missed the white blanket that had coated the trees and fields. He hoped it would snow again before Christmas. While the sun was out, it was still rather cool. Which was why, even in her coat and scarf ( his scarf), Y/N had begun to shiver.
Sebastian chuckled. “Still cold, are we?”
She frowned, giving him a small glare. “What gave it away?” She looked back at Professor Garlick. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through class without turning into a block of ice.”
“I’ve got an idea. Come here,” he said, scooting closer to her. Before she could protest, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her softly into his side.
He wasn’t sure what had made him do it. Instinct? His natural and irresistible flirtatious charm? Who knows. But as soon as he had done it, the weight of it settled on him. Other things had become normal. But this, Y/N pressed against his chest, where she could likely feel his rapidly beating heart, this was new. His body stiffened at the realization. Was this ok? Had he gone too far?
For a moment, she also seemed surprised—but only for a moment. He felt her body relax a bit against his, allowing herself to lean into his warmth. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and did the same.
Class continued, and Y/N stopped shivering. (Sebastian found this very fulfilling.) He was hyper aware of her breathing; he’d never heard it so close for so long. Over and over again he found his gaze drifting down to look at her, eyes unconsciously following the slope of her nose and curve of her lips. As soon as he’d realize he was staring, he’d whip his head forward again, begging himself to keep it that way. It never seemed to work.
After what felt like eternity, class ended. Y/N moved to stand, but Sebastian was quicker, jumping to his feet to offer his hand. A mischievous glint twinkled in her eye. She laid back on the ground, reaching up for his hand lazily. “The class really took it out of me. I’m not sure I can go on.”
Sebastian feigned annoyance. “Are you trying to take advantage of my kindness?” He grabbed her hand anyway, attempting to pull her up. She acted like a limp doll. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way she slumped forward when he finally pulled her into an upright sitting position. She stuck her tongue out at him. Leaning down, he grasped her other hand, forcing her to her feet. Still halfway committed to her game, she rose off balance, and to steady her, Sebastian placed a hand on her waist.
When she finally stood straight, he noticed how close the action had made them.
He was still holding her hand, still gripping her waist. He could feel her breath on his lips—it made his heart lurch. For a split second, he could only think of getting closer, seeing how not only her breath felt, but her lips against his—
His hands dropped to his side and he took a large step back. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t see the expression she was wearing. He didn’t know what he wanted to find.
So instead, he cleared his throat. “Lot of work to get you on your feet. Come on, those potions won’t brew themselves.”
Smooth, Sebastian.
Ominis Gaunt was no idiot. In fact, he fancied himself pretty sharp, especially when it came to certain topics.
One of these topics happened to be Sebastian Sallow.
He didn’t need working eyes to see that something was changing . Well, less changing, really, and more uncovering what had been there all along. He could hear it in the tone of Sebastian’s voice when he spoke to her, the way it went all soft. He felt it in the way Sebastian froze in place every time she entered a room. There was this small stupid sigh he’d let out when he couldn’t walk her to her next class, a lingering frown that wormed its way into his speech every time she wasn’t around.
They were little things. But they were there.
And now, after that Herbology class, his friend walked beside him in silence . It was something he had scarcely beheld.
Ominis wasn’t completely sure—not yet. But if he’d hazard a guess, he’d say his best friend had fallen in love—he just didn’t know it yet.
It finally hit her when she realized she missed his smell on his scarf.
She’d worn it every day since he gave it to her—it was cold out, why wouldn’t she? Why not appreciate the gift her friend had given her?
Why not take the chance to always feel he was near her, even when he wasn’t?
Over the days, the scent of fireplaces, old parchment, and a trace of his cologne faded away. She sat in her room and took a deep breath, realizing in that moment that she had spent every moment she could basking in it. It was in the absence that she finally figured out that silly feeling in her stomach. And now that she had a name for it, it was painful.
She wasn’t supposed to feel this way for a friend—her best friend . She wasn’t supposed to be excited when he held her hand, wasn’t supposed to feel the burn of his hold on her waist, wasn’t supposed to wish he had closed the distance and kissed the life out of her .
She wasn’t supposed to be in love with him.
Because that’s what it had been all along, hadn’t it? She couldn’t even trace back to the beginning of the feeling, it was like it had been there all along, lingering, waiting to be discovered.
Now that she had, she worried it would destroy her.
There was no chance he felt the same—he would never have agreed to her stupid plan if those feelings had existed. He would have said something a long time ago. Perhaps he would have kissed her in Herbology.
Where was she supposed to go from here? How could she continue with their awful, awful plan, longing in every moment that it was the truth?
How could she give up the chance to pretend it was real, if only for a few days more?
She wouldn’t ruin this. The plan. Their friendship. She would continue on, and when the day came for it to end, she’d be heartbroken, and pretend to be that damn good at acting . She’d get over it, and she’d never let anyone know that she had ever been in love with Sebastian Sallow.
Ominis bounded into the Great Hall, which was a distinctly un-Ominis thing to do. Sebastian raised an eyebrow as his friend approached, grinning ear to ear. “Have you gotten a letter from Anne?”
“I haven’t checked my post yet,” Sebastian answered as Ominis sat in one of the empty seats beside him. Y/N hadn’t come down yet, which was a distinctly un-Y/N thing to do. Blimey, was everyone off today?
“Then I’ll do the pleasure of sharing the good news myself. She’s been feeling well these last several days, and if it keeps up, she plans to come to the Yule Ball!”
Sebastian understood his friend’s good mood immediately—his own heart soared at the thought of his sister enjoying herself and dancing the night away, and didn’t even feel bothered that it would likely be in Ominis’s arms (he had given his approval, after all). “Really? Have you asked her then, officially?”
“Of course. I’ll be right beside her, Sebastian. You won’t have to worry.”
Sebastian patted his oldest friend on the shoulder, grinning right back at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“This does leave a bit of a complication, though, doesn’t it?” Ominis said.
Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean?”
His friend sighed. “I was supposed to be going with Y/N after the two of you broke it off… it wasn’t official, or anything, but—”
“Don’t worry about it, Ominis. She wouldn’t want you to miss going with Anne.” Sebastian thought for a moment. “It is rather close to the ball, anyway. Perhaps it would be best if I went with her. Left the ‘breaking it off’ until afterwards.” Why did that thought make his heart beat faster? “If she’ll have me, of course.”
A strange expression crossed Ominis’s face. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Why don’t you ask her once she arrives?”
“I will.”
For some reason, it became infinitely harder to eat after that conversation. Each bite of Sebastian’s toast had lost its taste, no matter how much butter he put on it. His pumpkin juice was the same.
What if she said no? What if she was disappointed to go with him, her longing lying elsewhere?
And why did he care so much if it did?
He pushed those thoughts aside as she arrived in the Great Hall, uniform slightly rumpled and hair askew. Had she stayed up too late studying?
In any case, he had a question he needed to ask. He rose to meet her, unable to wait for her to sit at the table. She started a bit, looking up at him.
“Morning, Sebastian,” she said.
“Morning. I had… a question to ask you.”
She tilted her head. He wondered if she heard the worried tone in his voice and quickly cleared his throat, trying to get it to leave.
“What’s the question?”
“Well, you see, there’s a bit of great news, and a little bad news that comes with this question.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Anne is feeling well–well enough that she plans to attend the Yule Ball.”
Her eyes lit up. (He was glad he got to tell her, just so he could see that.) “That’s wonderful! I’ll be so excited to see her! What’s the bad in all of this?”
“She plans to attend with Ominis, who was going to be your date.”
She shakes her head. “That’s alright. I would never want to come between the two of them, I can stay in that night. Be heartbroken, and all that.”
Sebastian shifted on his feet, nervously. His arms came up to cross over his chest in a protective gesture. “But that’s where my question comes in. I thought—and, please feel free to say no to this—that we could go together? Most people would be expecting it anyways, and we could push off the end of our courting a bit, I wouldn’t mind. And it would keep Prewett trying to ask you last minute, I wouldn’t put it past—”
“Sebastian,” Y/N said, smiling. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll look forward to going with you.”
He held back a wide grin. “Good. I figured it would beat sitting in your dormitory being miserable.”
She laughed, and something shifted inside him. “That it will.”
And with that, he took her hand and led her to the table, his smile refusing to be hidden any longer.
The week leading up to the Yule Ball was a frenzy. Students were restless in class, whispering about who was going with who, figuring out if someone didn’t have a date yet, making plans on buying dresses and robes and discussing how to style hair. By the time the last class was out, a mere three days before the dance, the professors were sick of it. There was an excitement in the air—it was difficult not to get swept up into it.
It was inevitable, Y/N realized, that she wound up in the dress shop in Hogsmeade. Imelda, Poppy, and Natty were with her, all trying to find dresses of their own. Poppy had settled on a lovely gown with a light floral print. Natty found a deep maroon one, accented with flecks of gold–-the perfect dress for a proud Gryffindor. Imelda was set on a navy dress, a little less fancy than some of the other ones, insisting she needed to be able to move properly to dance.
Y/N, on the other hand, was at a loss. She felt like she had tried at least a dozen gowns on and hated every single one. She was nervous—more than she’d like to admit. She knew Sebastian didn’t feel the same for her as she did him, but she still wanted to put her best self forward. And part of that meant the perfect dress.
She sighed as the shopkeeper put away yet another reject—this one a frilly pink number than Y/N had nearly vomited on. She buried her face in her hands. “It’s hopeless.”
Poppy came to her side. “Of course it isn’t! We just have to keep looking!”
“What about this one?” Natty asked, pulling a dress forward for them to view. The Gryffindor had a proud glint in her eye, as if she already knew she had won. “I’m sure he’ll love the color.”
That much was sure to be true. It was a deep emerald green, one that Y/N thought would compliment Sebastian’s lovely brown hair nicely. She blushed at the thought, looking closer at the dress. “I can try it on and see.”
As the shopkeeper helped lace up the back, Y/N knew before looking in the mirror that this was the dress she would wear. It was a simple, but a little scandalous—the neckline allowed her collarbones and tops of her shoulders to be put on display, and the short flowing sleeves showed off her arms. It was lovely. She felt lovely.
When she was dressed, her friends grinned at her. “If you don’t get that dress, I’ll force you into it,” Imelda said.
“No need for force,” Y/N said. “I love it.”
She could only hope Sebastian loved it, too—even if it was just as a friend.
Sebastian’s fingers drummed on the table as he stared at the ground of the Undercroft. Ominis gave an annoyed hum. “If you don’t stop that tapping, I may have to blast your fingers off.”
He frowned at his friend, but stopped his tapping. “You act like I killed your puffskein.”
“If I had a puffskein, and you killed it, I promise I’d act much worse. ”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, trying to read the book on the table in front of him. The words had no meaning to him.
“You’re tapping again.”
Sebastian groaned. “I can’t help it.”
Ominis raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t used to get so antsy without seeing her all day.”
“Y/N’s been gone for hours . Aren’t you a little concerned?”
“She’s dress shopping, Sebastian. I hardly think that’s an event to worry over.”
Sebastian pouted, arms crossed to keep from drumming the table.
“I didn’t say who her was, by the way.”
His head shot over to look at Ominis. “What do you mean?”
“I never mentioned who you were antsy about not seeing. Could have been Anne. Could have been Professor Weasley, for all the context there was. But you thought of Y/N. ” Ominis smiled to himself. “I wonder if it means what I think it means.”
Sebastian swallowed thickly. “And what exactly do you think it means?”
He shrugged. “That you love her.”
It was like a fire ignited inside his chest. “What are you—why would—I don’t— ”
“With that reaction, I rescind my previous statement.” Ominis grinned. “It’s no longer what I think it means. It’s what I know it means.”
“You don’t know anything, Ominis. I’ve told you before, she's my best friend, I don’t…” he trailed off. He couldn’t say he didn’t.
“Are you quite certain of that?” Ominis closed the book he’d been tracing his wand over with a gentle thud . “Let’s review the facts before we come to a conclusion, dear friend. You’re nervous about the dance tomorrow.”
“It’s a ball, why wouldn’t I be–”
“Hush now, Sebastian. You’re going to listen to me for once in your life. You’re nervous because of her . Think back, is there anyone else you would have asked to the ball?”
Of course there bloody wasn’t. But that was a rule Sebastian made for himself, wasn’t it? Not to think about it? Not to let his heart race, his days revolve around her. Not to admit what these things meant.
“You’re insufferable when she’s gone—and believe me, I know the difference between normal Sebastian and insufferable Sebastian. You trusted her from the moment you saw her. You’d do anything for her, including torturing yourself by going along with this ridiculous scheme of hers. You lie to yourself, again and again, and for what? To protect her? To protect yourself? You love her, Sebastian.”
Sebastian held his head in his hands. He’d put up so many barriers, so many walls around that truth, that he felt himself crumbling. He couldn’t love Y/N, not because she wasn’t worthy of it, not because he didn’t, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of living without her. That was torture. That was insufferable.
The walls had been demolished. The rules all broken. The truth was out there now, spoken into existence by Ominis, and as much as Sebastian longed to put it back in the careful little corner he’d made for it, he couldn’t.
He was supposed to deny every word Ominis said. He was supposed to push these things aside and lie and go back to the way things were. But instead, his voice came out small, uneven, and raw.
“What am I going to do, Ominis?”
For all the snark he gave, Ominis truly cared for his friend. At the sound of his weak voice, he placed a gentle hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Telling her would be a good start.”
Sebastian gave a humorless laugh. “As if that wouldn’t ruin everything.”
“I seriously doubt admitting you care for her deeply would result in her hating you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ominis said. “If she had the capability to hate you, I feel you would have crossed that line long ago.”
“Which is exactly why she could never feel the same.”
Ominis sighed. “Sebastian, throughout everything, she has always been right at your side. I’d say that loyalty reflects feelings a bit deeper than friendship on her part.”
Sebastian didn’t have a reply to that. Admitting to Ominis, to himself, the feelings he had for Y/N had been challenge enough. To consider that Y/N might feel the same… It was too much. Ominis seemed to recognize that. “Look, just… think about it, alright? Go to the ball with her tomorrow. Let yourself enjoy it. Stop acting for one night, and see how it goes.”
Ominis gave him a pat on the shoulder, then rose to his feet. “I’m going to the dormitory. Anne is arriving tomorrow; it’s best if we both get our sleep.”
Sebastian scoffed as his friend left. As if he’d sleep at all after any of that.
The ball was only an hour away. After greeting Anne, Natty, Poppy, and Imelda had whisked Y/N away to begin getting ready. At first, Y/N didn’t understand why so much time was necessary—but as the minutes ticked away, she found herself nervously scrambling to pin her hair. They had all settled themselves in the Room of Requirement, figuring it was the perfect space for all of them to prepare. The other three girls had left just minutes ago, rushing off to see the other girls their year, and Y/N couldn’t help but admire their lovely gowns.
As she was leaving that morning, Y/N had hastily explained to Anne how to get to the room; she could only hope her instructions were clear. Evidently, they were—Anne came bursting into the room, bright smile on her face. She held a dress in her arms. Y/N tore her stare away from the mirror in front of her to turn to the girl. “Anne! You’ve made it! You haven’t left much time to get ready, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, settling in front of the mirror beside her. “But I couldn’t tear myself away. It was wonderful seeing Ominis again.”
“I’m sure he made up for the hardship of seeing your brother,” Y/N joked.
Anne laughed. “And then some. Sebastian left a while ago to get ready. I’m glad he’s taking you, seeing as I stole your intended companion. Quite the plan the three of you had, hm?”
Y/N froze with a pin clutched between her fingers. “Ominis told you about it?”
“He did. I have to say, I’m sorry I missed seeing Prewett’s reaction. From what I’ve heard, you gave him quite the talking to.” Anne turned to the mirror, beginning the work on her own hair.
“O-oh? Well, um, yes, I suppose I did,” Y/N said, trying to distract herself by looking at her reflection. “I do appreciate Sebastian’s help with all of it.”
“He’s horrid, but he’s always there when it truly matters.” Anne glanced over at her. “Your hair looks perfect, why do you keep fidgeting with it?”
Y/N shrugged, trying to maintain a look of innocence. “I just want to look my best.”
“Nervous, are we?”
She froze. “W-why would I be nervous?”
Anne gasped, reaching out to grab Y/N’s arm. “You are nervous! Please, you must tell me, do you fancy him?”
“That… that’s ludicrous, Anne, he’s my best friend, you know that.”
The brunette smirked, and it looked much too like her brother—mischievous glint and all. “I won’t tell him.”
“I…”
Oh, what was the point? Why try to keep it in any longer—it was bound to drive her mad, might as well let someone know why she was doomed for an asylum.
“I do fancy him, Anne. In fact, I fancy him so much, I hardly know what to do with myself.” She sighed heavily. “It’s maddening . I’ve only realized it recently, though I now know I’ve felt this way for much longer than that. And now, with this idiotic plan—” She held her face in her hands. “Well, it’s easy to see how things… how it could be , if he only felt the same.”
She was too busy wallowing in her misery to see Anne’s grin widen with her words. “Perhaps tonight will change things.”
Y/N groaned. “I doubt that. He only asked me because he wanted to make sure Prewett didn’t.”
“And why would he want to make sure Prewett didn’t?”
“Because… because he’s a good friend, Anne.”
Anne shrugged. “I’m going to ask you to do something tonight, Y/N. Oh, quit groaning like you’ve been cursed, it’s not difficult —keep an open mind. That’s all. Try to see what’s there, and not what you’ve been so focused on avoiding. Let yourself be happy tonight.” Anne turned back to the mirror, finishing up her hair. “I won’t push you any more on the subject as long as you try to do that.”
Y/N didn’t think she had much choice but to accept.
As they walked to the ballroom, Y/N could only repeat the words don’t trip over and over again in her mind. Anne had gotten ready quickly, and she looked stunning in her blue dress. Her health had improved greatly in the past few months—a nurse and St. Mungos had been experimenting with different potions to ease her pain, and it had been working. Her face was no longer as thin, and Y/N could finally see her as the trouble-making girl she had always heard about.
Together, they turned the corner that led to the top of the stairs. Ominis and Sebastian stood at the bottom, speaking to one another. They hadn’t noticed them yet. The sight of Sebastian’s well-fitted black suit left her a bit breathless. She took Anne’s hand as they began down the stairs. Sebastian looked up.
If she thought she had been breathless a moment ago, now she was simply drowning . There was a softness in his eyes that traced over her, looking down at her gown and then back up to her face. For a moment, he seemed too stunned to move. And then, he smiled.
Oh, God, Y/N. Really don’t trip now.
He walked with Ominis to the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t take his eyes off of her. He took a deep breath, she thought, and then… relaxed. Something about his disposition changed, ever so slightly.
Her hand slid into his as he offered it. “I can’t begin to describe how wonderful you look.”
His words made her heart race. “You clean up nicely yourself.”
He grinned, holding up his arm to escort her. “Shall we?”
She looped her arm through his. Anne and Ominis followed them. Y/N smiled. “They look happy together, don’t they?” she said softly.
Sebastian hummed in agreement. “There’s a part of me that thinks I should disapprove, but really, I couldn’t ask for someone better for my sister.”
The ballroom was decked ceiling to floor in Christmas decor. Floating lights twinkled through the air, making Y/N stare in in wonder. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is,” Sebastian said quietly. She turned to face him, his own head swiveling away from her. Around them, couples were preparing to dance. He cleared his throat. “May I take this dance?” he said in an overly posh voice, bowing to her.
She laughed. “Careful, you’re sounding a bit like Ominis there.”
He grinned before taking her hand, leading her to the floor. A wave of nerves came over her—she wasn’t much of a dancer. Sebastian seemed to notice this. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you if you step on my feet. For long.”
She hit him on the shoulder. Rolling his eyes, he brought her into position, stepping closer to her. His free hand came to settle on her waist. He held it softly—she could barely feel the weight of it. It wasn’t hesitant, but… gentle. It was careful. She brought her own hand up to his shoulder—only then did she realize how close they truly were.
She could have counted every freckle on his face—and wouldn’t have minded the time it took to do so. His lashes were longer than she remembered. And his eyes—had they always had those flecks of green in them?
The music started, and he began to lead her in a dance.
Any nerves she had felt faded away once she realized how competent of a dancer Sebastian was. He led her effortlessly, bringing her in and out of twists and spins with ease. She found herself getting lost in the motions; it was rather like a duel, in some ways. Her awareness of her body was heightened, having to be ready to react to each move Sebastian made. She and Sebastian had proven themselves to be excellent dueling partners—why would dancing have been any different?
He pulled her into the basic position as the song shifted from one to another. This one was slower, less complex. It allowed them to stay face to face. Y/N grinned. “You never told me you could dance.”
He smirked a bit. “You never asked. My parents taught Anne and I when we were young. Thought it would only be proper for us to know, they at least tried to raise a gentleman.”
She chuckled. “Their efforts have been noticed. Although, it does make me wonder what other secrets my Sebastian might be hiding from me.”
His eyebrows raised. “Oh? Your Sebastian, is it?”
Her mouth opened quickly and then closed. A blush fought its way to her face. “I… This is about you and your secrets, Sebastian. Don’t try to change the subject.”
He laughed. “All in due time, my Y/N .” He didn’t give her the time to reply, pulling her into a quick spin that left her dizzy.
Several more songs came and went, each leaving the pair more restless than the last. It was only with great hesitation that Y/N asked to stop for a drink, thoroughly enjoying the exhilaration of it all. Sebastian led her to a table, returning a moment later with Butterbeer for each of them. Y/N sipped at it eagerly.
“Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, don’t they?” Y/N said, watching Imelda dance stiffly with the Ravenclaw boy she had come with. As well as she flew, she didn’t move nearly as well on the ground. However, this fact didn’t keep her from smiling and laughing as she danced.
Sebastian nodded from beside her. “It is a bit crowded, though, don’t you think?”
She couldn’t help but agree. The room was nearly stifling. “It is a bit warm.”
“Then let’s go somewhere to cool off for a bit.” He smiled down at her, twinkle in his eye.
“Oh? Do you have something in mind?” she asked with a tilt of the head.
“You’ll see in just a moment.”
He led her out of the ballroom, and even the hallway alone gave her some fresh air she desperately needed. But they didn’t stop there. Instead, he dragged her through hallways and up staircases (and she didn’t even care how far it was—she’d go anywhere with him) until finally, they were at the top of the Astronomy tower.
The cool air hit her skin as she took deep, appreciative breaths. It had been a while since she had been up here—she hadn’t pursued a N.E.W.T. on the subject. The view was astonishing—how had she forgotten it?
Sebastian sat on the ground, overlooking the world around them. He patted the ground beside him, a clear indication to join him.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been up here,” she said, sitting. The moon was dancing in and out of the clouds, its pale light reflecting off of the Black Lake below them.
“I still sneak up here sometimes, to think.”
“Isn’t that what the Undercroft’s for?”
He smiled. “Sure. But sometimes a little risk of getting caught makes things a bit more worth it. Besides, the Undercroft has nothing to this view.”
She hummed in agreement. The heat of the ballroom had disappeared by now, and she found herself starting to shiver in the cold winter air. At the very first trace of this, Sebastian removed his coat, leaning over to wrap it around her shoulders. She was grateful the moon had hidden behind a cloud, concealing the redness in her face. Old parchment and fireplaces. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” He laid back on the ground, staring up at the sky above. “I’m going to be sore until next Tuesday with all that dancing we did.”
She fell back, laying beside him. “Maybe that’s their plan. Tire us all out at the beginning of the break so we don’t have energy to cause any mischief.”
He snorted. “You really think a lack of energy is enough to stop me?”
“Absolutely not. But perhaps the professors underestimated you.”
“Then I’ll have to show them how wrong they are then, won’t I?” He shifted, bringing one arm up behind his neck, resting his head on it. The other—the one next to her— stayed stretched out by his side.
She mirrored his position. “Don’t go too far. Ominis might have your head if he has to save you from expulsion. Again. ”
“He’ll forgive me. He always does.”
It was then she finally felt the heat of his gaze. She turned her head to look at him, meeting his eyes. How long had he been staring at her? There was a softness there—one that had been there all evening. She hadn’t realized it until then, but it dawned on her that the uneasiness, the fear that she had felt before the ball, had disappeared completely from the moment he smiled at her. It occurred to her that she should do something with that courage. She looked him right in the eye, a voice whispering in her mind— tell him. Just tell him you love him.
But he looked away, back up into the clouds. She let out a small sigh, doing the same. Was it really all so hopeless?
A warmth overtook her fingertips as Sebastian took her hand in his. Their fingers intertwined. She could feel the calluses of his thumb brush against her knuckle.
“It’s snowing,” he said softly, barely more than a whisper.
It was. The flakes came down slowly in fluttering paths that made her head spin as she stared up at them. They caught the moonlight, flickering just like the lights in the ballroom.
“It is,” she said. “And you were right. It really is lovely.”
She half expected some witty remark, a Sebastian-esque reply of obviously , he’s always right.
But instead, he just tightened his grip on her hand and watched the snow fall around them.
Four days. That’s how long it had been since the ball, since something had shifted.
Y/N didn’t know how to explain it–-her and Sebastian hadn’t spoken about that night, yet the weight of it was felt in every moment they spent together. They both continued on, pretending to be more than friends, while toeing that very line in reality. The first day or so, this shift had given her hope. Perhaps Sebastian did feel the same. He had held her hand without the world watching. He had looked at her with that softness. It had to mean something, didn’t it?
But the days continued to pass and nothing else changed. If they were still following the initial plan, they were supposed to break the whole thing off any day now. And yet… neither of them had brought it up.
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t keep living with this in-between thing, caught between a blissful lie and a heartbreaking truth. With every passing hour, it felt heavier and heavier. The words between them piled up. She worried she would soon drown in them.
They were in the courtyard when it finally happened. With the Christmas break, most students had returned home—the quiet wouldn’t last long, though. They would all be back for class the next day. Maybe the thought of the coming hustle and bustle is what drove Sebastian to speak. Y/N had cleared off a bench for the pair of them to sit at, snow lazily falling around them.
“What are we doing?”
Her eyebrows furrowed at his question. “I thought we came out here to enjoy the snow. Isn’t that what we planned on?”
He shook his head, sighing. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “I think we both know that’s not what I’m trying to talk about.”
Oh. Oh. “I… I’m not sure, Sebastian. If… if you want to break it off before everyone gets back, I understand. It would cause less of a stir that way.” I don’t want to break it off. I want to start over. I want to do it right this time around.
“You really want to break it off? After everything?” Where had that softness in his eyes gone?
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sebastian. Wasn’t that the plan?” Why was she getting angry at him? If he felt the same thing she did, why couldn’t he just say it?
“That damn plan. Is this really all that’s about?” His voice rose in volume. “Still some stupid ploy to keep Prewett away?” He stood up from the bench, moving to pace in front of her.
“I…” She faltered. She watched his movements, back and forth, the way his brow furrowed and his lips fell down into a frown. “I don’t know, Sebastian. Maybe this was all too much to ask from you, but you’re my best friend and I—”
He interrupted her with a scoff. “ Friend. Don’t you know how it kills me to hear you say that?” He turned to face her, eyes aflame. “Since that bloody ball, every time I’ve even thought about you in that way, it tears me to bits. Each time I look at you, all I see is that night in the Astronomy tower, you, and the snow in your hair. It took everything in me not to kiss you that night, don’t you know that?”
She swore she could hear each snowflake hit the ground in the silence that followed. “You… you wanted to kiss me?” Her voice was timid. “Why?”
“Because I love you, Y/N. That’s why.”
And there it was.
Like a dam bursting, the truth poured out. “You asked me to help you with Prewett, and of course I agreed. You’re everything to me, why would I not help you? But then I realize, well I realize it’s you, and it’s always been you. I want it to be real, Y/N. Every last bit of it. I want—”
He hadn’t processed her jumping up from the bench until her lips were pressed against his in a short kiss. He didn’t even have time to close his eyes before she pulled away. Her hand still held his cheek.
He gaped at the girl in front of him. “I… I want… what was I saying?”
She smiled— really smiled, one of those ones done more with the eyes than the mouth. “I'm pretty sure you were telling me that you love me. You kept going on about it, though, so I thought I’d interrupt to say I love you, too.”
He didn’t waste another moment before kissing her. His hands cupped her face, pulling her closer than she ever thought possible. Her own hand skimmed across his cheek and then on the back of his neck, and goodness, was his hair as soft as it looked . The other hand held tightly onto the front of his coat—she swore it was the only thing keeping her on the planet.
It was him who broke the kiss, and she instinctively leaned forward to chase after his lips. He chuckled, pressing his forehead on hers. “I’ve had a thought,” he said, breathless. “I think I’d like to court you, if you’re interested.”
She laughed as he kissed the corner of her lips. “We’ve gone a bit out of order, don’t you think?”
“I couldn’t care less,” he said, moving to kiss her again.
The last coherent thought she could make was that the snow made for a very, very lovely morning.
When the students all arrived the next day to continue classes, no one paid much attention to Y/N L/N and Sebastian Sallow. Old news. An obvious pairing, looking back at it. No one really cared that she wasn’t just sporting a Slytherin scarf around her neck, but a green sweater that was much too big on her.To most, there was no difference in the grins on their faces, the excitement in their voices. Well, no one except Ominis.
When Sebastian took a seat beside him, Ominis chuckled. “Seems I was right. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, but his wide grin countered any annoyance he might have felt. “Don’t start.”
As Y/N sat beside him, giving a quick kiss for good morning, he thought that maybe it was ok that Ominis was right every once in a while.
A/N: I really hope you all enjoyed this! I definitely had a lot of fun writing it. This is my first work with Sebastian, and I’m very much looking forward to writing more! I have plans for a few mores oneshots and a series, so stay tuned for those! Thanks for reading :)
#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy sebastian#hogwarts legacy mc#ominis gaunt x anne sallow#fake dating au#fluff#angst#friends to lovers#idiots in love#first kiss
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With Neighbors Like These
Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)
Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)
TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present
Word Count: 2k
The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.
Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different.
The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.
He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”
You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.
“Feeling lonely, already?”
“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”
“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.
He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.
Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing.
“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.
“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed.
“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”
“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?”
“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.
“... so you’re a bad influence.”
The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly.
You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”
His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.
“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.
You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”
Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs.
Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again.
“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”
Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.
He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear.
“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.
You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.
“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit.
“Are you trying to make me lose control?”
You nodded in confirmation and he growled.
He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.
“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance.
“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”
His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”
You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff.
He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open.
“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.
“Better?!”
He whined again. “Not exactly.”
You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”
The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.
It was torture but he was damn good at it.
When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.
Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood.
He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.
When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.
With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.
“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.
He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs.
“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.
He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”
“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”
He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”
“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.
“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”
He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”
You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”
“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile.
“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”
@hornyhornyhimbos
NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner smut#post season 12 aaron hotchner#criminalminds#criminalminds fanfic#criminalminds fic#criminalminds smut#smut#mdni#minors do not interact#not beta read#my gifs#hotch is a dilf#also i hate the title but who cares we're here for the smut#milla writes n*s*f*w*#or rather... milla doesn't know why she's writing hotch stuff#i have a strong suspect someone is brainwashing me with all that talk about him#not naming names you know who you are
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conflicted
Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: Your captor gives you a bath. You have some conflicting feelings when he touches you.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. also tagging elements of NONCON just to be on the safe side. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, Joel killed her father, mention of blood, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own. pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, pretty girl, little girl), daddy kink, very minimal editing.
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.
if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.
word count: <1k
a/n: this is a bit less than a blurb. a blurb of a blurb. a blurbette, if you will. i shelled it out in like less than an hour. to me it is part of the captive universe, but can be read as a standalone! please be advised that this is not fleshed out at all, i just felt like writing something that didn’t require too much brain power.
He pours one last pail of hot water into the tub.
“How’s the water?” he asks you.
His voice is so deep. Rich, like molasses.
It’s also laced with a southern accent, you’d noticed.
Aware he’s still waiting for an answer, you shrug.
He tries again. “S’not too hot, is it?”
He had ordered one of the women in the group to start a fire and boil water collected from the stream they had stumbled upon just a mile south of the small cottage.
“Seriously, Joel?” Angela had glared at him. “I am not a fucking maid.” Hands planted on her hips, she foolishly added, “If I’m gonna haul and boil water for a bath, it’s gonna be for me, alright? Not for that little fucking brat of yours.”
His switchblade had gone straight to her throat.
“Fuckin’ say that again,” Joel hissed, the sharp edge of the blade lightly slicing into her flesh. “Call her that one more time and see what fuckin’ happens.”
She apologized and then got to work, completing the task within a couple of hours.
Finally, you answer his question.
“Water’s fine,” you mumble. It’s hot, but not scalding.
“Good.”
Joel kneels beside the tub.
Flinching, you hunch over and pull your legs up against your chest.
It doesn’t matter. He’s already seen you naked.
He’s the one who had undressed you, after all.
Dipping a washcloth into the water, Joel instructs, “Sit up straight, honey.”
Honey.
The pet name makes you feel sick to your stomach.
You’re not his honey. You’re his prisoner.
He frowns, the creases between his brows deepening.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, pretty girl.”
Obediently, you nod and the water sloshes around you as do what he says.
You saw what he was capable of. You’re terrified of him.
With a satisfied hum, he begins washing you.
It had been three days since the massacre. Joel gently scrubs away the crimson caked onto your skin and the color of the water turns to rust. You don’t know whose blood you’ve been wearing—could it be your father’s?
He had been standing in front of you when his life was taken by the very same man that knelt beside you. Had his blood splattered on you? Was it being cleaned off by the same man who had so violently spilled it?
Your stomach lurches at the thought.
He had been trying to protect you during the ambush.
Your father had been trying to fucking protect you.
And Joel Miller had killed him.
He had killed him just to get to you.
Joel runs the washcloth down your arm, his dark gaze dragging over every inch of your body. “Such a pretty, pretty little girl,” he murmurs. Dropping the washcloth into the water, he gently cups one of your breasts in his large hand. He sweeps his thumb over your nipple and lightly teases the pebbled flesh, his digit circling it until it becomes a stiff peak.
Your eyes flutter closed and you inhale sharply.
There’s a strange feeling in your lower belly.
Strange because it’s not entirely unpleasant.
He trails his hand lower, raking over your tummy.
Lower.
Lower.
Lower.
He rests his palm over the mound of your pussy.
Gasping, your thighs clench together.
You’d like to think it’s to keep him out, to keep him from violating you further, but the burning pressure building in between your hips seems to be saying otherwise.
Horrified, you squeeze your thighs even tighter.
No. Don’t let him in.
But what if your resistance led him to force his way in?
You shudder, unable to decide which would be worse.
Joel leans forward over the bathtub, pressing his lips to your temple. “Don’t fight it, honey. S’okay that it feels good,” he mumbles against your skin. “It’s s’pposed to feel good when I touch you, baby.”
No, it’s fucking not!
Bowing your head, quietly begin to sob.
He wraps his arms around you. “Don’t cry, babygirl,” he soothes. “Don’t cry. Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you. I promise I’ll always take good care of you.”
His vow makes you cry even harder.
divider credit @saradika 🤍
#tw dubcon#tw dubious consent#tw noncon#tw dark fic#raider!joel#raider!joel miller#dark!joel miller#dark!joel x reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x afab!reader#joel miller blurb#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller drabble#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction
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Shai! Shai! I've thought of another scenario for Leon😊 Altho being a new fan I've come to the conclusion that Leon is the type to believe he's not good enough for his partner, he believes they could do better then him. So imagine a Leon who has finally accepted he has feelings for you and works up the courage to confess only for you to turn the tables on him and say you dont feel good enough for him. I imagine he would be in disbelief? How would he react to his crush telling him "You're too good for me Leon."?
too good for me | leon kennedy x reader
pairing: leon kennedy x reader (unspecified gender)
genre: fluff, miscommunication, the "endeared badass x normal person scared shitless of the endeared badass" trope. no spice, unfortunately. only good vibes and leon being head over heels smitten. enjoy!
word count: 2.7K? It's short!
notes: hi sarah! i am SO SORRY this has taken forever. you requested this one month ago! its been so hectic lately, i've been having health problems that required regular hospital visits and tests upon tests, but now that my surgery (yeah i know... yikes) is authorized i'm only waiting for them to call me for the date and have all the time in the world to get my rest and write. i'm also working on your other (wink wink) request! thank you so much for being patient with me. hope this is what you had in mind! i also added my touch and ideas to it lmao. happy reading!!
🌀 read on ao3!
“You’re too good for me,” is the hesitant, small answer you give him while avoiding eye contact and playing with your fingers in front of your office’s shared coffee maker Leon had made countless paperwork excuses to be able to simply stop by — to his question, that is, about why you wouldn’t go on a simple date with him.
You puff out an awkward laugh to smooth things over as humorous but it’s forced and not at all sincere.
It’s taken Leon a whole inner journey (Spain. Mostly the simultaneous trauma and catharsis of Spain) to get over himself to recognize what his heart truly wanted but was too pussy to look at before, yet here you two are. The lone angel in his life telling the failure Leon is that he’s too good? For you?
He simply stares, dumbly standing there, piping hot coffee that’s actually incompatible with his taste buds he insists he must do a detour to get from here simply because you often do, stiff and awkward in his hold, thinking he heard you wrong because he hasn’t gotten a good night’s rest — rest, not sleep — in forever since he came back from Spain.
He’s been forcing himself to come to work just for a glimpse of you and your pretty face to recharge his battery, heal his soul a bit, let you be all that occupies his mind despite being laid off after that outrageous mission that resulted in the president’s unwanted favor and nightmares upon nightmares with only anxious yet soothing thoughts of you as the best bad out of the worst he’s had to face— and what is it that you said again?
“You’re joking right?” Leon says, pride not knowing if it should be broken or not because he’s not sure to take this as a rejection, and it isn’t his intention for it to sound that harsh. He’s not some asshole who can’t take no for an answer, it’s your reasoning that has him downright jamming like a gun.
Leon has to remind himself to switch off work mode because now you look mousey as if he has a paw on your tail, shoulders pulled into yourself. “Sorry!” He feels so bad, heart expanding within his ribcage and it aches, fuck, he just wanted to ask you out and all he’s doing is scaring you. “I’m sorry, you were kidding. I didn’t get it— I’m kinda slow and you sound flat sometimes, of course you weren’t serious, I’m—”
“No, I was serious.” His eyebrows furrow at yet another self-degradation from you. “It’s you who has to be kidding. What do you mean too good for you?”
You are at a loss of words, mouth opening but nothing coming out, and finally look him in the eye and all Leon wants to do is lean down and capture your mouth, he’s heavily distracted by you licking your lips and swallowing, the sighting of the tip of your pink tongue makes his shirt suddenly suffocating and tight.
“I mean,” you begin tentatively, unaware of what’s going on in his head, vaguely gesturing to Leon. “Well… You’re you, I mean… And I’m. Me. Look at you and look at me. Why would you even…?”
“Hey,” Leon sets his mug on the counter, closing his eyes and pinching the insides with his thumb and pointer. The implications alone sent a zapping headache through his skull that he knows he has to rest to be able to unpack, especially when he’s finally decided on seriously pursuing you in spite of himself. Leon can’t let this remain unaddressed, for your sake and his sanity. “How about I wait for you after work today and we talk about this somewhere else?” He’s squinting. “In detail.”
“We don’t really need to—”
“We do.” Leon wants you to see he’s serious about this — about you. “Because I see something here that I want to pursue and we can’t have any misunderstandings. Would appreciate it if you at least give me the chance to clear the air.”
“P-pursue?” You swallow and Leon’s mind wanders again. “Clear the air you say…”
He breathes in. “Can you give me your phone?”
You slap it into his palm almost immediately, the speed with which you obey him without asking him any questions surprises him. He wants to scold if you’re willing to hand over your mobile to any guy who asks, but supposes it’s not his place — is frustrated this is what it takes to get him annoyed, as well. He isn’t some young adult. Weirdly, you make him feel like one.
He’s punching his own number in, despite the conflicting feelings, finally feeling like this is getting somewhere and he’s doing it when you start talking again, nervous. “You can uh, clear the air… right here… without taking me to a secondary location…”
His eyes flick up to yours in confusion and you look to the right immediately, and back to him. To the right. Back to him. It’s somehow comedic, because why do you look like you’re cornered by some bad guy?
You really look like you want to be anywhere else than here, Leon’s fucking this up and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. Was he going too fast? Should he have told you his number and let you save it instead?
You’re mumbling, nervousness clear as day for reasons he can’t fathom, he hears you, but he doesn’t really understand.
“What? What's wrong?" Leon asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. He takes a step closer, wanting to bridge the gap between you and alleviate whatever discomfort you were experiencing. "You seem... uneasy. Did I do something wrong?"
Your eyes meet his briefly, then quickly shift away again, as if you are struggling to find the right words.
Leon's heart sinks. His intention wasn’t to make you feel nervous or pressured, especially when he is genuinely trying to connect with you — then, in a brilliant moment of heart-stopping realization, the fact that you might just not be interested slaps him in the face and he’s…
Well. Wouldn’t that be the reality?
Leon is… He isn’t exactly the ideal man. Not with what he does, and how his life is. He’s aware of that. Have been running from forming connections because of what he knows will end up happening because of that. He can’t get attached and keep losing people — can’t keep getting hurt in the vicious cycle to prevent everyone from getting hurt. It’s been the bane of his existence ever since STRATCOM plucked him off straight from Raccoon City. Even if you work in the same field as him, just different offices, who is to say it will work out anyway?
He’s getting ahead of himself. You might not like him at all in the first place. Jesus.
Maybe you see him for what he is. Maybe you think he’s not —- the effort’s not worth it, and you wouldn’t exactly be wrong in thinking so. You could be wanting something else in life that he only has the desire to give you, and not the promise. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, who would blame someone for being their own person with their thoughts, wishes, wants and goals in life?
You’re too good for me, really, is his line. It has been right from the beginning, his excuse in running away from his undeniable, frightening attraction to you.
"No, it's not you," you finally managed to articulate, prompting Leon to release the breath he was holding, your voice shaky, playing with your fingers. "I just... I feel a bit overwhelmed. This is all happening so fast, and I never expected..."
Leon nods, his expression softening as he realizes the weight of the situation. He hasn’t fully considered how his sudden confession and determination to pursue you might have caught you off guard. He has been so focused on his own feelings that he hasn’t taken into account your own thoughts and emotions.
"I understand," he replies, voice gentle and reassuring. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just... I couldn't keep my feelings to myself anymore. But please know that I don't expect an immediate answer or any commitment from you. I just… Well. I just wanted to tell you. See where this goes. Or, maybe, if that’s not the case… Get rejected for good so I can move on, you know?"
You laugh a little and it’s genuine — you have no idea how it turns Leon’s heart into putty right where it hangs between two lungs. “Do you really mean all of that?”
“Of course,” he says, offended the tiniest bit. “Why do you think I would joke about something like this?”
“It’s not about you joking, really…” You’re uncomfortable again, hesitating to tell him something.
“Hey, you can tell me.”
“Can you promise you won’t get mad?”
“What am I, your father?” He snorts. “Come on, tell me.”
You brace yourself for it and he doesn’t understand why until you say it. “You, um… You’re kinda scary.”
He blinks. “Sorry?”
“Sorry!” You raise your hands up in panic. “I don’t really mean it like that, not to insult you or anything, it’s actually admirable, I’m just saying! Discipline, work ethic, unmatched field performance! You’re very… Very, uh… Intimidating, yeah, that’s the word…? I mean, like… You, uh, you’re famous, you know, we all know your work, you’re very hard working, working hard, very hard work — uh, um… So it’s…”
“I scare you?” Leon swears he felt his eyes get bigger the faster you kept on vomiting words. “You think I would hurt you?”
“No!” You reject strongly, waving a nervous hand at him. Silence befalls later, which you follow awkwardly with a silent, guilty. “Maybe,” after clearing your throat.
He had always strived to be a protector, but he hadn't realized that his image and reputation — what it had become after Spain — could have such an effect on someone he cares about.
"I never meant to scare you," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, he puts the coffee mug on the counter and leans his hip on it, shoulders sagging a bit as he crosses his arms. The thought of you only feeling intimidation about him leaves a bitter taste worse than the coffee does. "I guess... I've always been so focused on work, on the dangers just around the corner — I’m aware how it might affect my relationships in the long run so I never attempted to form any at all, but I never realized how it might affect how people see me in the first place. I never wanted to make you, of all people, feel this way. I could never hurt you. Never."
“I didn’t want to imply you’re a guy who’d intentionally hurt someone—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, ruffling his hair to get rid of the awkwardness. “So I’ve just been bugging you this whole time, huh? Jesus. I’m so sorry.”
“No! No, don’t say that, you’re amazing! You’re like a hero around here…”
“Around here doesn’t mean shit,” he replies curtly, and regrets cursing like that in front of you immediately. It’s unbecoming of him — and doesn’t help his image in your eyes at all. He’s getting frustrated. His tone lowers into a softer, more disappointed, heartfelt one. “I only care about how you think of me.”
“Well, you’re amazing,” you say again, bashfully this time, and it prompts him to look at you. There’s something shy about you now that has him standing taller in anticipation, wondering if it’s him reading this wrong or not. “It’s pretty well-known if you didn’t know.”
“I don’t know,” he prods, idiot heart fluttering at the way you’re flustered. “What do you think? Besides intimidating, I mean. Not reporting on the local gossip this time, if you don’t mind.”
“You seem like a nice guy,” you settle. The middle ground. “I’ve seen you with the president’s daughter.”
Leon's expression softens at your words, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the tension that had built up within him. The mention brings a slight smile to his face, memories of Ashley flooding his mind, a fondness evident in his eyes. "Ah, Ashley. Yeah, that was quite the adventure. Though what can you be other than a nice guy when your mission is the president’s daughter?"
“I know a couple people who’d treat her like a package to be delivered. You prioritized her wellbeing more than anything.”
“What else was I supposed to prioritize?”
“You know what I mean. Emotional wellbeing. I’ve read your initial report and her statement. You cared about her.” A smile tugs at your lips, he can tell you’re a bit more comfortable now. "Especially during what you’ve been through. It's impressive how you handle yourself in those situations."
He shrugs modestly, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. You respect him. "I guess you could say it comes with the job. But it's not all action and danger, you know. There's more to me than just being a government agent."
Your curiosity piques, and you tilt your head, prompting him to continue. "Tell me more. What's Leon Kennedy like outside of work and missions?"
It catches him off guard that you want to know more and take the first step. You could have just rejected him. His heart picks up, chest expanding in excitement, he’s glad for the opportunity to share a glimpse of his life beyond the chaos of his work — he’s normally not eager to share pieces of his life like this, but… He’d give it to you on a silver platter, whether it'd lure you in or not. That’s how Leon knows he wants this with you so bad. “I wanna lie to woo you but… Would it be too unattractive to tell I really don’t have a life outside of work? I’m still trying to find some balance in my life. The upper echelon guys are pretty ruthless and demanding. I guess it means I can say I’m into traveling?”
“Is this the cool guy way of saying you’re an introvert these days?”
The unexpectedness of it is what gets him to throw his head back to laugh, and he catches you staring, scrambling to rub his face to get rid of it and regain some composure. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Pretty much.”
“Well,” you gesture at him, there’s a vague pink hue dusting your cheeks. “What are you into, then?”
God, he can’t stop, “Other than you?” from escaping his dumb mouth. He shouldn’t have said it. It’s too corny. So uncalled for. Your mouth hangs open and he wishes he could rewind the tape to take it back and choose some other option. “Say… What about we continue this discussion after work? I know a good coffee place. Let me make it up to you for invading your lunch time. I’ll tell you all about me, what do you say?”
You look at the clock on the wall, he knows you didn’t get to have anything because he decided to turn up and serenade you with unwanted attention, it’s two birds with one stone for him if you decide to accept — he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t see a perfect moment to seize the chance.
“Coffee sounds perfect,” you nod, with no pressure from him, and it lifts a great weight off his shoulders. “Would it be okay if I eat something too?”
Why are you so adorable? You don’t know that you own the power to get Leon to have your superiors let you go for the day, but he can’t get too excited right now. “Say the word and it becomes a dinner date.”
It gets you flustered again, you don’t know where to put your hands, and he’s so happy about it. “It’s a weekday… That’d be a bit exhausting…”
“Okay. Coffee date it is.”
He’s noticing you like the cheeky confidence, and it makes sense, considering the intensity had you intimidated. “Thank you,” you say. “I’d like that.”
“Believe me,” Leon can’t stop the grin from overtaking his expression. “My pleasure. You’re honestly too good for me.”
There’s the sudden urge to kiss you when vulnerability and shyness lights up your whole face, but he’ll take it slow. He has to take it slow. For himself.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s. kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy fluff
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Surrender III
Eddie Munson x fem!Reader x lesbian!Chrissy Cunningham
Part One. Part Two. Part Three.
cw: established relationship, platonic!hc (eddie-chrissy are college besties), questioning/bi reader, threesome, fingering, oral (fem-fem giving and receiving), piv sex (unspecified birth control), squirting, one instance of spanking and singular use of the nickname “daddy” (not by r, it’s kind of a joke?)
6.5k 18+, MDNI
“Hey…are you sure you’re okay with this?”
Eddie’s voice is soft in your ear and you have to slightly rouse yourself, nearly having fallen asleep as you and he wait for Chrissy to arrive.
The room is quiet except for the low sound of the album he put on the record player, vinyl crackling occasionally, and the faint humming of the fan overhead pushing cool air down on your half-dressed bodies.
He’s drawn the gauzy curtains closed so the fading sunlight can still filter through and casts across the bed in a hazy glow. You lay flat on your stomach, wearing a pair of sweatpants a size or so too big so they’re slung low on your hips, and only your bra so he can gently rake his nails over the expanse of your back.
“Yeah,” you whisper, still halfway half-asleep. “I’m nervous, but I’m excited.”
“Me too.” He smiles at you and leans over to place a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “I just don’t want you thinking this was like a plan or something. I thought for sure these days were behind us, I never imagined this would happen.”
“Old habits die hard,” you snicker.
He grins back, his smile deepening the dimples in his cheeks and making your own heart swell.
“And you know you can take it back any time, right? Neither of us is gonna be disappointed or mad or anything like that. We just want you to have a good time.”
His steady voice and the words he’s saying warm your chest and you nod, cheek rubbing against the pillow under your face.
“I know that,” you say. “I trust you both.”
You fall quiet for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on your lip, and open your eyes to look up at him.
“Hey, um…are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Of course,” Eddie smiles. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know, maybe because I was a total jealous nightmare obsessing about you and Chrissy getting together and now…”
You fall silent, pushing down the crack in your voice you can feel coming. Eddie tips your head up to look at him and gives a reassuring smile.
“I just kind of feel like a hypocrite,” you admit to him, your voice small.
“Don’t,” Eddie tells you, still smiling. “I get why you were worried, especially when I wasn’t telling you everything. You think you don’t deserve good things, so you can’t help but think when you have something good that it’s going to be taken away.”
He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple. You sigh at the feeling of his lips on your skin, the way his stubble rubs your hairline and gives you shivers that run across your scalp. You could have never imagined how good it would feel being with someone who knows you like he does. Someone who knew your body inside out, but also your head. And your heart.
“I know Chrissy…and I know you,” he tells you. “Neither of you would hurt me. You’re the best thing in my life. Nothing and no one is going to change that.”
He leans in to kiss you again, too wrapped up in one another to notice the turn of a key in the front door or the soft creak of its hinges.
“It’s you and me, right?” he murmurs, keeping his lips close to yours.
You nod decisively and whisper back. “It’s you and me.”
“God, you guys are like…disgustingly cute.”
You and Eddie’s heads both lift at the sound of another voice in the room. Chrissy leans against the door frame, arms crossed in front of her chest with a doting smile on her face. She’s dressed much more casually than the last time you saw her, in a matching set of velour sweats like an updated version of those Juicy tracksuits that were all the rage in college.
The soft mocha color of them sets off the red in her hair making it look less blonde than it did at The Hideout. Her make-up is simple, what little she’s wearing at all. You can’t help but grin at the sight of her as you bite down on your bottom lip. Her eyes sparkle as they meet your gaze and her nose scrunches adorably as she smiles at you.
“That’s what you get for breaking and entering,” Eddie chortles. Chrissy just rolls her eyes.
“That’s what you get for never changing your hiding spot.”
She holds up her hand and twirls the spare key Eddie keeps underneath an ogre statue in the yard around her finger. The sun catches on the sparkles on her nails as she lays the key down on your dresser and moves inside the bedroom.
“Someone likes back scratches, huh?”
The mattress dips as Chrissy joins you and Eddie on the bed. She reaches out and traces your spine with her forefinger from the nape of your neck all the way down to the small of your back. It causes more shivers to ripple across your body and you emit a deeply contented sigh.
“Mmhmm, better than a massage,” you hum.
Chrissy’s eyes find Eddie’s over you. “Mind if I take over?” she asks.
He doesn’t answer audibly, but you assume he must have nodded or brandished his hand with a silent be my guest when you feel Chrissy shift and swing out her leg. You feel the gentle graze of her velour sweats as she lowers to straddle you, knees resting on either side of your hips.
Eddie brushes your cheek one last time with the backs of his fingers and carefully climbs off the bed. “I’m gonna grab us some waters,” he says. “Chris, you need anything else?”
Chrissy glances over her shoulder at him with a playful smile. “Got any candles you can light? A little ambiance never killed anybody.”
“No, but candles sure have,” he says back wryly. “I’ve got some, but it’ll take me a minute.”
“That’s okay,” Chrissy hums. “We’ll keep ourselves busy.”
You listen as Eddie’s footsteps recede down the hall and you have to try and contain not only your excitement, but also the nerves that are starting to bubble up in your chest. As though she senses it, Chrissy devotes herself to keeping you relaxed. She gently strokes your back with a sensual skim of her fingertips up and down your spine, light as a tickle but smoother.
“I’m gonna unhook this, okay?”
Her hands rest on the clasp of your bra, but she waits to separate it until you give an affirming nod. The relief of it releasing is instantaneous, the band and straps falling away. Chrissy begins to scratch methodically, first with all ten fingers moving as one in a long, slow crawl down your back, and then splitting off in different swirling patterns. She knows all the places that need to be paid special attention, like right above your rib cage where the band dug into your skin all day. Her nails aren’t long, just a short almond shape, but they’re enough to offer a deeper scrape and more relief than Eddie’s blunt fingertips.
Leaning forward so her body presses against your back, she lets her lips hover over your ear.
“If you ever want to stop, you tell me, okay? If you aren’t enjoying yourself, I’m not either.”
“You got that from Eddie,” you say, recalling the first time you’d come over to his place. The first time you’d laid in this bed that would eventually become your own.
Heart in your throat, you’d warned him you weren’t ready to go too far. After all, you were still living in New York at the time and staring down the barrel of your return flight home set for the day after your sister’s wedding in a little over a month. The last thing you needed was to get too attached to someone who lived hundreds of miles away—least of all the sweet, handsome, oddly disarming guy you just met at a strip club. And you knew if you gave in to what your body was screaming for, it would only lead to heartbreak. There was no way it wouldn’t.
Eddie responded perfectly. More than perfectly. He said he didn’t care what you did or how far you went. He only cared about spending as much time with you as he could; and that he would go at whatever pace made you comfortable. If you aren’t enjoying yourself, I’m not either.
Which of course only made you want to do it more.
Chrissy laughs breathily, the sound a sweet and fluffy thing like a wisp of cotton candy.
“Eddie got that from me, babydoll.”
She pushes up on her knees so you have room to roll over onto your back. As you do, your arms come up instinctively to cover your breasts, suddenly feeling ashamed of the way they probably look from this angle, flat and flopping around unlike her tiny, perky ones.
“Don’t hide from me, beautiful,” she tuts, wrapping her hands around your own and bringing them to the zipper of her sweater.
Your fingers fumble around the metal pull and Chrissy helps you drag it down, revealing her skin is bare underneath. She has a faint smattering of freckles across her chest and you stroke your fingers softly along her collar bone and over her breasts as her sweater slides off her arms.
The light pressure of her body settles back down on your hips and she leans forward again, letting her warm chest press against your own. Her long lashes flutter and the gold ‘86 charm hanging on the chain around her neck swings steadily like a pendulum and bumps your chin.
“Can I kiss you?” she asks. Wordlessly, you nod.
Her lips are familiar, in a way. Plush and full, not unlike Eddie’s. They move against yours with purpose—not aggressive, but insistent. Like she’s trying to show you how much she wants this too. Gradually, you open up to her, giving her tongue access to probe your own and sighing softly when it does. The light clicks of your lips meeting again and again fill the room under the gentle strums of the acoustic guitar on the album playing.
You’re so lost in her, you don’t catch the sound of Eddie’s bare feet padding softly on the carpet as he returns. A soft creak makes your eyes fly open and you turn your head to the side.
“Don’t mind me,” Eddie chuckles, leaning against the low bookshelf your record player sits on.
Beside it, he’s arranged some white pillar candles of varied sizes and states of dripped wax. There’s a soft hiss and a faint smell of smoke as he strikes a match to light them. The flickering flames make his shadow dance on the wall and once he’s done, his attention turns back to you.
His eyes are luminous as he watches you and Chrissy together, the deep brown of them warm and bubbling with excitement seeing the way your lips move so sultry and sensuous with hers.
“She’s a good kisser, huh?” he asks his friend.
“So good,” Chrissy murmurs, pressing her mouth back to yours. She swallows your soft hums and breathy moans of pleasure. Your hands come up to cup her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks and fingers slipping into her fine, soft hair.
She nips gently at your bottom lip, a little hint at wanting something more, and you remember that little request she made on the phone. You slide one hand into her hair until the heel of your palm meets the base of her skull and firmly squeeze the hairs closest to her scalp.
You don’t yank her head back, just grip her tightly enough to tip it back and get at the column of her neck. You suckle at the skin there, soothing the red mark you make with your tongue after. Her throat vibrates with a moan and you hear the soft plop of Eddie’s own sweats falling to the floor.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans as he palms the front of his boxers.
“Taker her pants off for me, Ed,” Chrissy instructs, tipping her head back down for another kiss.
Eddie nods and kneels dutifully at the foot of the bed. His fingers curl around the waistband of your sweats and he starts to tug them down over your hips and off your legs. He tosses them into the growing heap of clothes by the bed along with his pants and Chrissy’s sweater.
“I think she likes kissing you, Chris,” he says, his fingers toying with your dripping entrance.
“The feeling’s mutual.” Chrissy smiles, shooting you a wink as she slips off you to stand.
She removes her track pants, leaving her in nothing but a dainty thong, and your eyes go wide trying to take all of her in. A smile plays across her pillowy lips as she climbs back onto the bed and drapes herself against your side. You’re now laid bare before them, gazing down at Eddie between the valley of your breasts as he lowers himself to kiss at the apex of your thighs. His breath is warm as he exhales and brings his fingers to your core.
He slides in one with ease and follows it with a second, relishing the hitch of your breath it causes as he begins to massage your warm, wet walls. There’s more warm breath on your ear as Chrissy leans in close to whisper to you.
“How’s he feel, angel?”
She smoothes her hand over your forehead and brushes a few pieces of hair from your face, letting her fingertips trail over your cheeks.
“He’s…he’s really good,” you pant, struggling to draw breath. Your body is already on fire after just a minute of having Eddie’s fingers, reactive to every touch of Chrissy’s soft hands.
“I’m not surprised,” she giggles, letting her fingers skim your navel. “He learned from the best.”
“Oh, please,” Eddie snorts from between your legs. “I’m completely self-taught.”
“Excuse me?!” Chrissy squeaks in mock outrage. “I’m like your Mr. Miyagi of pussy.”
You start to giggle until Eddie curls his fingers particularly deep and the sound crumbles into a low moan. The two of them continue their light squabbling while you drift away, being blissfully rocked by the pace and rhythm of Eddie’s capable fingers inside of you.
“Not a chance,” he tells her. “If anything, you learned everything you know from me.”
“You have some natural talent, I’ll give you that,” Chrissy concedes. “But there’s always room for improvement.”
With that, Chrissy places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder in a signal to swap places with her. He withdraws his fingers from you, his eyes locking with yours as he brings them to his lips and sucks them into his mouth. Just the sight makes you flutter and ache with need.
Chrissy lifts herself up until she’s suspended over you, caging you between her limbs. Her eyes glimmer as she dips down and little tendrils of hair caress your cheek as she kisses you sweetly.
“I taught him everything he knows,” she whispers. “But not everything I know…”
Her soft lips skim the line of your jaw, traveling down to your neck and then your breasts. She laves her tongue over your nipple in a dazzling array of circles and flicks, gently rolling one between her fingertips as she suckles the other.
As she moves further down your body, Eddie smoothly moves up to lay beside you.
“Hi,” he whispers, smiling down at you, dimples deepening in his cheeks. “You okay?”
“Yes,” you breathe, the sound hitching in your throat as Chrissy’s warm breath fans across your mound. You meet her sparkling eyes once more as she glances up for one last check-in. Without a word spoken, you can see what she’s asking and you nod eagerly.
Her mouth is a mystifying combination of familiar and fresh. You recognize a couple of Eddie’s moves one or both of them must have learned from watching the other, but there’s still a clear distinction between the two. Where Eddie is precise and exacting in his movements—creative, yet deliberate as he’s working towards a goal—Chrissy has more finesse and flair.
It’s whimsical and variable, changing up and keeping you constantly attuned to her. It’s kaleidoscopic, in a way, shapes and colors twisting in seemingly random order to create a stunning, beautiful pattern.
While Eddie’s fingers have the benefit of sheer length and girth, Chrissy’s can maneuver more efficiently. They actually dance inside of you, like they’re trying to waltz with your g-spot. It’s not even a matter of better or worse. With a gun to your head, you couldn’t decide which was more enjoyable. Luckily, you don’t have to.
You feel the weight of Eddie’s broad palm as he strokes the top of your head, and dreamily turn your head to look at him.
“How is she, beautiful?” he asks.
“She’s really good…holy shit…”
You hook a finger in his ball chain necklace to tug him down, but find it slack as he’s already on his way to kiss you. His mouth meets yours eagerly, relishing the feeling of the moans and whimpers that fall from your lips as Chrissy plays expertly with your clit.
“This is so great,” Eddie breathes as you pull apart. “I can hardly see you when I’m eating you out and now I’ve got a front row seat. God, you’re fucking gorgeous…”
He swoops in to plant his lips against yours again and it steals all the breath in your lungs. You reach out and fumble like mad to find Chrissy’s hand where she’s holding your thighs apart, weaving your fingers with hers and squeezing to tell her you’ve not forgotten her.
She squeezes your hand back, but lifts her head when your hips start to squirm.
“I think she needs to be fucked soon or we might kill her, Eds,” Chrissy says teasingly.
“That true, baby?” Eddie husks, his voice low in your ear. “You ready for my cock?”
“Yes, yes—please,” you gasp desperately.
Chrissy’s slides up and her warm body lays against you, sandwiching you nicely between them as she pecks your lips softly.
“How do you want him to take you, angel?”
“From behind,” you say, daringly looking up at her.“So I can eat you out while he fucks me.”
The words feel clumsy coming out of your mouth, but still you commit to the statement as best you can and it must be enough for them to buy it. Chrissy’s large eyes widen even further as she exchanges a glance with Eddie, who looks at her like he might blow his load on the spot if you say something, anything, like that again.
“I think we created a monster,” she chuckles.
Needing no more prompting, Chrissy begins to arrange herself on the bed with a pillow under her hips and lays down another for your chest.
“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Eddie says, stroking himself as he watches you get into position.
You roll over on the bed to lay between Chrissy’s spread legs. You let your head drop low to ghost your mouth over her baby blue g-string, noting it’s the same pale shade as her eyeshadow you complimented that night you met at the bar. You lift up your hips, dripping slit on full display as Eddie kneels behind you. He draws a shuddering breath and a loud CRACK fills the room as he smacks his hand down on your ass. Your whole body jerks and you wail pleasurably.
Chrissy props herself up on her elbows and takes your chin between her fingers.
“Someone likes that, huh?” she says. “You like it when Daddy spanks you?”
You nod earnestly, eyes big and round, getting more excited by the second. Chrissy’s eyes flicker over your head to meet Eddie’s as a playful smirk spreads across her lips.
“Maybe keep that in check while she’s neck deep in my pussy?” she suggests
“Will do, Cap’n.”
Eddie gives Chrissy a little salute as you glance back over your shoulder at him. He shoots you a secretive wink, both of you knowing he had no intention of administering another even before Chrissy said something. Any more than one and the pain becomes too much of a distraction.
His ass, on the other hand…
You gasp suddenly, bunching the blanket in your fists as Eddie teases your entrance with the head of his cock. He smears your own juices between your legs, mixing them with the precum leaking from his tip. Rather than sinking inside, he slides it forward and the ridges of his tip and shaft catch on your clit and make you keen forward.
“Should I take these off?” Chrissy asks, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her thong.
“No, I…I wanna,” you say softly.
Your head dips again and you begin a soft trail of kisses following the dip of her hips until you reach the curve of her waist. You place your mouth over the pale blue string, taking the thin elastic band between your teeth to pull it down. Behind you, Eddie actually whines at the sight and he leans sideways to watch as you drag the tiny piece of fabric down over Chrissy’s hip bone.
With all the grace of a ballerina, she brings her legs together and sticks them up in the air so you can lift her panties off completely. Once they’ve been tossed away, she lets her legs fall open on either side of you and you can’t help but stare. A bare shave, skin smooth and soft as a peach. Pink tissue glistening with her own arousal.
You tilt your head as you regard it, eyes dancing, a little surprised. “Huh,” you say. “It’s so…pretty.”
“Thank you,” Chrissy says with a tittering laugh. “And it tastes as good as it looks.”
You meet her gaze over her mound and the two of you share a devilish smile.
“Start slow, baby,” Eddie coos, his hands running up your sides. “The way I do with you, you know? Touch her thighs…rub around the outside…tease her…get her all needy…”
“Leave her alone, Ed,” Chrissy tuts. “Let her play with her new toy how she wants.”
The two of them exchange a smile and you feel the familiar weight of your boyfriend’s palm smoothing up your spine, the heel of his hand pressing gently down and helping to coax you forward. Your heart pounds in your chest as you descend, tongue slipping out to wet your lips before placing a kiss on the inside of Chrissy’s milky thigh.
“Mmm, hang on a second,” Eddie says, suddenly backing off the mattress. He walks around to the head of the bed so he’s standing over you as you look up at him plaintively.
“Are you not gonna…”
You glance behind you at the space he just occupied, pussy clenching around nothing as if in mourning. Eddie smiles and leans in close, his hand reaching out to cradle your jaw. You shiver at the roughness of his calloused thumb against your cheek and stare into his eyes.
“I will, baby, I promise,” he says. “You just…god, you look so hot right now I have to watch.”
You swallow hard, torn between the thrill his words send through you and the nerves now creeping up your shoulders and making them tense. Giving head was one of the things you actually felt pretty confident about. Guys were quick to tell you how good you were—Eddie in particular, even before he had discovered your affinity for praise. Of course, you could never shake the suspicion they only told you it was really good so you would do it more often.
Still, you’d certainly done it enough and you had it on pretty good authority your skills were above average. And you’d sort of been hoping maybe you could coast on that and Chrissy might help you with the finer points. But the thought of Eddie watching you do it? Being on display like that…not only having to be good, but also make it look like it was good?
What if you were bad at it? What if Chrissy hated it and didn’t have the heart to tell you after all this build up? You imagined her lovely face grimacing as you remained oblivious between her thighs. That would be a disaster in and of itself, but the thought of Eddie bearing witness to your spectacular failure?
At least if he was fucking you, he’d have something to keep him occupied.
“Hey,” Chrissy whispers, placing her hand on your other cheek so they’re each cupping a side of your face. “Come out of your head, angel.”
“Sorry,” you say meekly. “I’m…I’m trying to stay confident, it’s just hard.”
“Baby, why? You’re doing so good,” Eddie hums. “And you’re so sexy, can you really blame me for wanting to watch this?”
Your lip quivers as you avoid his gaze. “I just…it feels like I’m on display…”
“We’re not here to judge,” Chrissy says with a kind smile. “We know this is new for you, you’re not gonna get a scorecard at the end.”
“Just pretend I’m not here,” Eddie chuckles. “Chris already is.”
Chrissy swats his shoulder and it makes all three of you laugh gently. You look back and forth between them, warm brown eyes and sparkling blue-green ones. Both pairs shining and eager, focused solely on you, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen.
Making it easy to believe you are.
You carefully lean forward and peck Chrissy on the lips, then turn your head to kiss Eddie’s as well. And back to Chrissy, for longer this time, cupping her jaw before returning to Eddie again. Anywhere you look, there’s a pair of lips to kiss and you greedily drink your fill of both.
“Let’s slow down a little,” Eddie murmurs, words making his lips vibrate against yours. “You two kiss for a bit and I’ll just watch for now. Okay?”
His eyes find yours and he lifts his brow with the question. You nod, almost imperceptibly, and he drops his hand to wrap his fingers around your wrist. Three squeezes. I. Love. You.
Chrissy grins. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” she says, hand slipping around the back of your neck and pulling you into her mouth.
Eddie backs away and settles into the chaise by the window, spreading his legs wide to stroke himself as he watches you and Chrissy’s bodies begin to move together. You remember how mystified he’d been by you putting a chair there— “Just seems silly to have extra furniture. If we’re in the bedroom, we’re only gonna be on the bed,” he’d chuckled.
He’s eating those words now, you’re sure of it.
You lay your body against Chrissy’s, letting one of your legs slot between hers, relishing in the velvety feel of her freshly shaved skin. Her mouth is open and inviting, tongue running across the seam of your lips to politely request access, which you grant her happily.
The kissing is deep and slow, like you and Eddie used to do when you first started dating and you realized making out with him was better than all of your past sexual experiences combined. You brushed your fingertips over the swell of her breasts, so dainty and perky, playing with her nipples until they stiffen at your touch.
She gasps as you move your lips down her cheek and sprinkle a line of kisses along her jaw until you reach her neck. You kiss and lick and suckle at the sensitive skin until Chrissy trembles in your arms. She turns her head to the side, mouth falling open in a gasp as you run the tip of your tongue across the shell of her ear.
“Get on top of me?” she asks in a breathy whisper. “I wanna feel you.”
You move quickly to straddle her hips as she’d done to you, placing your hands on her waist both to steady yourself and to hold her down as you begin a slow, deep grind down.
“Fuck, baby,” Eddie groans from his seat. “You’re so goddamn hot, I can’t stand it.”
Chrissy smiles up at you and nods in agreement. She flattens her hands against your stomach and moves them up to palm your chest. At her touch, that burning pleasure reignites. You sneak a glance at Eddie and your whole body tingles at the sight of him. He looks almost primal. Eyes hooded with lust, gripping himself so tightly it must blur that border between pleasure and pain. His stroke is long and slow, tortuously so, to stave off his release as best he can.
The feeling of having his eyes on you, the ravenous way they rake over your form, causes your confidence to surge. You lean forward, boldly pressing your mouth to Chrissy’s before beginning a trail of kisses down her body, mouthing at the hollows of her neck, nipping at her pronounced collar bones until you reach her breast and suck her pert nipple into your mouth.
“Such a little tease,” she hums excitedly, pursing her lips in a pillowy pout.
You chuckle around her nipple and release it with a lewd pop before continuing your trail down her body. Sternum to stomach, navel to mound, and at long last to your final destination.
You try to remember the things Eddie and Chrissy did that feel best for you, but eventually you give up on thinking at all. You let instinct take over, exploring her folds, listening to what makes her breathing get heavy, what makes her chest heave, what makes her thighs twitch and her toes curl over. You lose yourself in her taste and her musky scent, new but familiar.
“Oh, fuck you, Munson, I can’t believe you get this tongue all the time,” Chrissy whines, her voice wavering as you delve deeper into her center.
You swirl your tongue around the edges of her entrance, spreading her lips apart, licking at them like honeysuckle petals. You’re so wrapped up in her you don’t even realize Eddie has left the chaise until you feel the sudden delicious stretch of him pushing inside of you at last.
Gasps and whimpers fall from your lips right into Chrissy’s folds as he fucks into you. He starts with a steady roll of his hips, but you thrust back against him, chasing more force. He increases his pace, the slapping of his thighs against the backs of your own filling the room, as your lips surround Chrissy’s clit and you suck it like a piece of candy.
“Oh, yes, keep doing that,” Chrissy cries out, her voice jumping an octave in a pleasurable scream. “Just like that, just like that—”
Behind you, Eddie moans and you can feel his reaction as he pulses inside of you. “Jesus Christ, fuck—baby, you’re drenching me,” he exalts.
It doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. You’ve never felt as attractive as you do right now; never as wanted and desired.
The sounds of both of them fill your head, a symphony of pleasure and praise. You squeeze and clench around Eddie’s cock, milking him for all he’s worth. He feels you getting close and his hand comes around to find your clit and rub the flats of his fingers over it.
The coil in your belly grows impossibly tight with every pass over the bundle of nerves. He pushes further into you, his cock reaching impossibly deep until he hits that sacred spot within you that has you seeing bright white as you moan into Chrissy. Your orgasm rips through your body, walls gripping Eddie like a vice as his warm release paints your insides.
The sound of him coming is loud and guttural, his hips stuttering and thrusts growing erratic as he loses all control. Still, you do everything you can to maintain your pace on Chrissy. Her hips are squirming, her back arching as she grinds her hips against your lips and tongue.
“I’m so close,” she pants, breathless as her chest heaves. “Y-you’re gonna make me come, you’re making me feel so good—ahh!”
You plant a hand on her lower belly mostly for purchase as you add your fingers and crook them up in search of that spongy wall inside of her, but the pressure causes something else entirely.
A spray of liquid hits your neck and chest, dribbling down your breasts. Chrissy’s voice goes higher as she rides out her orgasm, her thighs twitching against your ears. Behind you, Eddie’s eyes go round with shock as though he thinks he must be dreaming.
“Was that…did you…did she…”
Answering him seems unnecessary when the evidence is all over your face. Chrissy’s chest and stomach heave as she draws one shuddering breath after another, her high moan dissipating as the waves of her pleasure finally ebbed.
“Ffff-uck, angel, that was amazing.”
“Really?” you ask, looking up at her hopefully.
“Absolutely,” Chrissy hums, content and sated as she lets her head loll back on the pillow.
You look back at Eddie, your eyes big and hopeful. “How are you? You good?”
He bends at the waist and leaves a line of kisses down your spine, the soft ends of his long hair tickling your tingling skin as he does.
“Oh, baby, you have no idea,” he says, the noise throaty and strained from his efforts. “What about you? Are you okay?”
“Incredible,” you sigh, laying down next to Chrissy and letting your head rest on her shoulder.
She curls her slender arms around you and her fingers start to stroke the hair at the crown of your head. Eddie heads for the bathroom and returns with two washcloths. One, he hands off to Chrissy and the other he dips between your legs to collect his spend as it’s trickling from your entrance. Once she’s cleaned herself up, Chrissy has you sit up with her and she reaches for one of the waters sitting on the bedside table.
“Good girl,” she sighs as she brings the glass to your lips, her cheeks still flushed and skin all glowy and radiant from her orgasm.
You can’t imagine ever looking as good as she does after you come.
She kisses you after you sip, licking the chilled water from your lips before taking a drink of her own. You fall back onto the bed together and Eddie curls up beside you, their arms layering over one another’s as they hold you between them. You roll over after a minute, burying your face in the crook of his neck, Chrissy now curling around you as your big spoon.
“You hungry?” you murmur against his chest.
“Fucking starved,” Eddie groans, making Chrissy chuckle.
She unwraps her arms from around you and stands to pull her clothes back on, glancing down fondly at the rumpled mess the three of you have made of the bed. As she zips her sweater, she pauses, looking for the first time a little unsure of herself.
“So, um…I guess I should go?” Her eyes dart back and forth between you and Eddie and you pull yourself off him to sit up.
“Do you have to?”
You look up at her plaintively and then back at Eddie, not quite sure what you’re even asking. All you know is you hate the thought of…kicking her out. Making her feel used. Letting her go back to Robin and Nancy’s without anyone to take care of her. God, do you wanna take care of her.
“You should stay, Chris,” Eddie tells her warmly. “Dinner should be done soon and we can watch a movie. Have a cuddle pile on the couch.”
“You sure? We’ve, uh…we’ve never done that before,” she says with a giggle.
It makes you laugh, too. The thought of them balking at something as innocent as cuddling when they’ve watched the other one fuck on multiple occasions. Eddie just shrugs and a smile plays across his lips as he leans in to brush the tip of his nose against yours.
“First time for everything,” he chuckles.
After you eat, you all settle in together on the big sectional sofa. Eddie sits up against the arm and you lay between his legs with your back against his chest and Chrissy draped across your front. It’s a delightfully crushing feeling, having both of them surround you. Eddie’s firm, solid body cradling yours while Chrissy rests her head on your chest and lightly strokes your legs.
You find out they both like to talk during movies and chuckle at the little quips they trade back and forth while you get to sit quietly, happily listening to them. Dinner sits warm in your belly and the heat of both their bodies around you is like the best electric blanket ever.
About halfway through the movie, you start to crave something sweet. And just as you lift your head to ask if he wants dessert, you see Eddie’s phone is out and he is already DoorDashing ice cream for all three of you.
Pistachio, strawberry and butter pecan.
The sleep you eventually fall into isn’t deep. You let your eyes flutter closed, and your breathing grows even and rhythmic, but you’re conscious enough to feel it when Eddie lifts you off the couch. He carries you down the hall to the bedroom and Chrissy follows, helping him tuck you under the duvet in the center of the bed.
“I’ll call her tomorrow,” she says, her voice hushed in the dark room.
“You can just stay the night if you want,” Eddie whispers to her. “She’ll be bummed if she wakes up and you’re not here”
You have to resist the urge to chuckle at all the domesticity you’re overhearing.
“I’m so happy for you, Ed,” Chrissy hums. “You guys are great together. Really solid.”
Eddie just smiles in response and holds a finger to his lips, shooting you a cautious glance to make sure you’re still asleep. He leads Chrissy to the closet and you hear the soft creak of the door opening as he ushers her inside. There’s a light rustling as he searches for something in the pocket of one of his blazers—the only hiding place he felt certain you wouldn’t find.
“Ohhh,” Chrissy mewls at whatever he shows her. “It’s perfect.”
“Thanks for the idea about getting her size. I thought she might have noticed the ring was missing, but she never said anything.”
“I’m so glad that’s the one you went with, it really suits her. When are you gonna ask?”
“I talked to Robin and Nance about having a dinner thing when they get back. Their patio is so nice with the lights and the pool and the fire pit and everything. And Jon will be there — I asked him about taking pictures. Will you still be in town? I think she’d like you to be there.”
“Of course,” Chrissy says. “Maybe we can go get our nails done that day.”
“That’s perfect.” Eddie exhales, breath coming out slightly shaky as he sucks in another. “And she…she’ll say ‘yes,’ right?”
“Oh, Ed…”
Chrissy lets out a soft sigh and you’d bet anything she’s rubbing his arm.
“Definitely,” she tells him. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#chrissy cunningham x female reader#chrissy cunningham x reader#chrissy cunningham x you
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