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marketfreshfics · 3 months

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Love is a... | Sebastian x MC

Header image (Sebastian): @starrysallow ✦ 5,439 words ✦ NSFW content (MDNI) ✦ unnamed female MC (no use of y/n), estranged friends to lovers, mild physical confrontation, some angst, oral, masturbation, p in v, tw: choking ✦ Inspired by "Love is A..." - PVRIS ✦ Read it below the cut or on AO3

Events following catastrophe were called fallout for a reason. Oftentimes it wasn’t the disaster itself, but the particles of pain that amassed the body counts, thrown to the heavens and scattered. What goes up, must always come down.

After killing Solomon and being pardoned outside of a court of magical law, based on friendship and honesty at the decision of his closest two friends, Sebastian was never the same. He stopped regular class attendance, prioritized unhealthy friendships, and frequented the restricted section even more.

She worried, constantly, but each attempt to reconnect and rekindle had been dodged and ignored. Her poor owl probably thought her a right lunatic with the amount of return post that accumulated next to her bedside.

It was as if he breathed in strands of that wretched Killing Curse, and his former self was another casualty of that day.

Distance was the only solution, and weeks bled to months, then years. Hostilities were built, grudges cemented, and relationships wedged. A lifelong friendship built on mutual trust, obliterated by all counts without salvage.

It hurt her heart, to say the least. Even Ominis insisted on prioritizing Sebastian’s company, solely out of self-flagellating guilt in believing he could have, somehow, prevented all of this. Now, he felt like it was the best means of maintaining Sebastian’s composure, of averting further tragedy. Eventually, the infrequent study sessions and conversations in the Slytherin common room became a thing of the past. The Undercroft’s clockface locking mechanism collected cobwebs, of time lost and friendships standing still.

She withdrew; the end of her seventh year approached and she was consumed by the quiet, by research, by exams. By any and all distractions that held her focus long enough to neglect her feelings.

Until one sleepless evening, as she passed the time in the Slytherin common room, tracing shapes in the condensation on the windows looking out into the Black Lake. The sound of footfalls and deep snickers bit her focus and induced an automatic eye-roll, the tells of men being up to no good. She turned her back to the stairwell, opting out of asking what they were up to at one-thirty in the morning.

Nothing great from the sounds of it. The group halted at the bottom of the stairs, whispered amongst themselves, and let out hushed sounds of approval. And then, the last voice she wanted to hear in the middle of the night beckoned her attention.

“Hello.”

Fucks sake, she thought, hearing Sebastian’s unfortunately familiar tone. His cronies chuckled, and worry started to spread uncomfortably in her chest.

“Leave her be, Sebastian.”

Relief cooled her blood as Ominis chided his best friend. Nothing wary would occur if he was in their company, that was certain; the heir of Slytherin had a quiet but firm reputation that fellow housemates were keen to avoid fucking around near. She turned, and swallowed hard.

Sebastian was a ghost of his former self, having filled out the straight-up-and-down form of his early teenage years. His black button-down could have used a proper resizing, taut at the biceps, the slightest hint of his undershirt peeking through the first buttonhole. Had they maintained a proper friendship still, she might have found him rather fetching.

But that was off the table entirely, their friendship long past expiration, the unanswered letters like an obituary in itself.

Sebastian crossed the central chamber of the common room, walking with the subtle saunter of liquid courage and bad influence, smirking with a glassy haze in his eyes.

He stood far too close to her. “I said, hello.” Terse, unyielding. The firewhisky on his breath branded her cheeks, and at this proximity, she was painfully aware of how much taller than her he’d grown. His little band of brothers hung back much to her relief; Ominis stood between them and the tower of darkness, the only one of them with some decorum (and sobriety)

“What do you want?” She muttered, fists balled at her sides to hide their tremble.

Sebastian feigned a hurt expression but it immediately dissolved, replaced with a terrible implication in his grin. “You.”

His audience chortled, save for Ominis, who seemed to be carefully attuned to whatever Sebastian was about to say next.

She ignored his forward attempt, cursing herself inwardly for how excited it made her feel. “What happened to you?” She wasn't looking for an answer, at least not immediately. She would have preferred he give it some thought, then approach her the next morning with an explanation (and, perhaps, an apology). “What’s wrong with you? Ever since you-”

Chagrined by her prying question, he reacted abruptly, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her back hard against the window.

His friends seemed perturbed by the action, immediately noping out of any involvement and backing out of the room for what they believed was yet to come. Ominis however took a step towards Sebastian, his wand raised, pulsing red. “Release her, Sebastian.” There was an exercised firmness in his voice as if he’d done this before. She wasn't the least bit surprised.

What was surprising, however, was her arousal. For his hand to be large enough to cup her throat just right, she thought it unfair. His eyes commanded her gaze, nostrils flared and breath hissed over snarled lips. His words bore grit, and punctuation pronounced. “Watch. your. mouth.”

It was no suggestion, about as much room for argument as was left in her airways for oxygen to travel to and from; next to none. Her jugular pounded against the web of his thumb, and his eyelids fluttered, pupils contracting in the earth of his eyes.

He knew. He bloody well knew how she was reacting, he had to. It shredded her innocence then, flayed it on the rack and flung her into a pit that the bastard dug himself.

Sebastian’s lip twitched, the corner tugging upwards into a smirk. Fuck him, she thought before speaking her mind, an emphatically sharp remark cutting a web of spit that landed on his chin. It only broadened his grin, as he wiped it away with his middle finger before swiping it with his tongue.

Her sympathies were with Ominis who had to endure this display of power and obstinate threats. “You’re reprehensible, Sebastian!” he warned as a firm hand clapped his shoulder. “Leave her be. She’s gone through enough already without your mistreatments.”

But she didn't want him to leave her be. She wanted him to mistreat her even more, and leave nothing left.

Mercy was given as Sebastian released her, wringing his hand. He narrowed his eyes as she ran off towards the spiral staircase, leaving before Ominis could provide consolation. Only once she was safely out of eye and earshot did she suck in a breath. She winced, a sting of soreness at her swallow, coughing to clear her stuck esophagus.

But that wasn’t what she fixated on. Instead of fear, she felt curiosity. Instead of warnings heeded, she draped his red flags over her shoulders like expensive silks.

Deceived into tasting forbidden fruit by a fucking snake. She could have laughed if she weren’t so fixated on the abject deploracy of it all. Every detail was ingrained in memory, down to the searing heat exhaled from his nostrils, fanning her décolletage, his inferno blazing.

And still, tears sprung to her eyes as she ran to the only spot she considered would provide some quiet reprieve…

And somewhere she could moan freely without an audience.

Thankfully the greenhouse was left unlocked, most likely by a fifth-year tasked with watering the dirigible plums after dinner and forgot to lock up. She stepped into the classroom, the humidity warmer than the cold dampness of the Slytherin dungeons, and she found a quiet corner to scoot on her bottom out of sight.

Despicable as it was, her digits committed treason and slipped under the waistband of her pajamas, sinning herself, confessing to those immoralities to please with her pleas. Her eyes wrenched shut in concentration as she drew upon her new little devious spank bank, every reaction cycling on a loop as her wrist bones cracked quietly in her panties with the fervour of her ministrations. And as close as she managed to get herself, with the image of Sebastian tattooed on tight eyelids, she almost cursed out loud when the latch on the greenhouse door clicked with movement.

She wasn't alone anymore.

She might have anticipated Ominis following her in hopes of apologizing on his behalf, but she never would have expected Sebastian to be the one stepping into the greenhouse, not after what transpired minutes ago. Perhaps Ominis talked some sense and ordered him to reconcile in person.

He leaned against the door, his hands in his pockets. “I can see you,” He said quietly, gesturing to her slippers poking out of the shadows. “What are you doing over there? Please, can you come out a moment?”

“Or what?” She replied, still trying to steady her breath, the combination of running and masturbating making it draw shallow. “You going to strangle me again if I don't?”

He exhaled, and… pleaded? “Promise I won't. That… I was out of line. You didn't deserve a moment of that treatment, not ever.”

She frowned, not expecting this change of pace whatsoever. She pushed herself up to stand, quickly wiping her fingers on the inside of her t-shirt, shuffling closer to him while maintaining adequate distance. With the enchanted heat lanterns angled at the massive venomous tentacula nearby, his face was washed with a glow that gave him a false sense of innocence. Her heart ached as she looked attentively at her former best friend for more than she had in over a year. “Sebastian,” she began, crossing her arms. “Can we talk about this in the morning? You’re drunk.”

“Not anymore,” he replied. “Ominis gave me a rather sobering talk.”

“Still.”

He sighed. “Please… we’ve gone too long without hashing this out. There’s a lot I need to say, and I’m certain the same rings true for you as well, no?”

She nodded, chewing her lip. It took several heavy seconds for him to continue, weighed down by the breadth of time spent apart. “I want to start by apologizing for how I threatened you this evening. I had a few drinks, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” Even though it sounded like he was reading from a rehearsed script, his expression was genuine. “It wasn't right to scare you that way.”

If you only knew, she thought, but she wasn’t about to give him the benefit of the doubt. She looked down and focused on the small hole in the toe of her slipper. “It’s fine,” she replied, nodding. “No. I’m alright. Thank you for checking on me.”

Truth be told, she just wanted him to wrap it up so she could rub one out already. She couldn’t think of anything but his hand on her throat, and it was giving her a fuckton of bad ideas. When she looked up again he was eyeing her curiously, and the hint of narrowness in his gaze made her bottom lip tuck between her teeth.

“What were you doing here before I arrived?”

She wondered, at that moment, if he’d spent his free time studying legilimency. Her nonchalance did not convince him. The tells were there: flushed face, rumpled pajamas, the drawstring tucked into her waistband. Still, she didn’t want him to know that she was fingerfucking herself before his surprise appearance; Merlin knows what that would do for his ego. She played it off. “Just checking the growth progress on my mallowsweet.”

“You’re still a piss poor liar.” He huffed, though a shadow of a genuine smile made an appearance as he clasped his hands in front of him. He studied her, stepping closer. “I’ll need to be honest with you now, but I only ask that you be honest with me in return.”

“You weren’t before?” She raised an eyebrow.

“What? No, yes—- I was being honest there, truly.” He was tripping over words, evidently still feeling some of the alcohol in his system. “I won’t lie to you, promise.”

After consideration, she nodded. “Okay, what is it?” I’m probably going to regret this, she thought, leaning against a crate of potting soil.

Sebastian’s expression was thoughtful, the space between his brows creased. It appeared as though he were trying to choose the proper words. “Over the past couple of years, we’ve… well, I haven’t been myself.” The halfhearted scoff from her was not lost on him, but he continued. “Ever since, you know… that, happened, I’ve experienced these disturbing feelings, impulses that make me want to do terrible things. I don't know how to describe them, but they’re not inherently good. Ominis believes I’m dealing with guilt, but it’s not so simple. It’s not that direct.”

His quiet intensity doubled down then, and he looked at her. “I’ve wanted to… to hurt you.” His voice softened as he said your name. “I’ve thought of unimaginable things, truly awful acts that made me consider my very sanity. Things that you would never deserve in a thousand years. And they aren't just passing through.” The words seemed to leave a foul taste on his tongue. “They stick around. No one knows about it, because how could I admit such a thing? Even now I’m trying to cast them out. I don't know if it’s some kind of repressed anger that you decided against turning me in, forcing me to live with the consequences of my actions without trial…”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m prattling. I just want you to know, this is the reason I’ve been so… distant, with you. It ate me up inside to stay away and it wasn't fair to you without an explanation, but I couldn't trust myself. Even now, or earlier I mean… I don’t know if these thoughts will go away entirely.” Shame settled into his features. “Still, I miss you. I have missed you, and I miss our friendship. I miss…”

Sebastian blinked for a moment, and before she could interject he was standing right in front of her, hands on the crate behind her. She was locked in, his strong arms a barrier from freedom, but she wasn't about to attempt escape. To do so would mean she couldn't experience him this close, this intense. He towered over her, swallowing, Adam's apple bobbing. “I miss what could have been. Please, be honest with me…” He took her hand then, dwarfing hers. It made her chest tight as he murmured, and the heart was apparent in his words. “Even knowing what I’ve shared, knowing fully well that I want to fight these feelings for you, would you ever… even want, to be friends again?”

Her mouth fell open slightly, the wind out of her sails. The divisiveness in her was tumultuous, warring between slapping him across the face and shouting profanely for the blind selfishness. True that there was deep anger in her heart, but there was also a void that ran deep, a cut that never healed. She looked up at him, let out a sigh, and wrapped her arms around his torso, her face in his chest.

Sebastian was caught off guard, his inhale caught in his windpipe, but he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her in return. He held her so tightly she winced, letting out a small groan, but she didn't shy away, hugging him with equal enthusiasm as they swayed with the shared experience of reconnecting a missing piece after far too long.

“Can you tell me when those thoughts are too much to ignore?” She asked after several seconds, looking up at him, ignoring the heartbeat that skipped attendance as a result. “I don’t want you to leave me again. That… that was the hardest thing to go through. I mean, we did everything together, and then to just, suddenly not…” She sighed. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

His brow furrowed. “Still relentlessly selfless, I see.” He smiled, and when he breathed she was relieved to find his breath no longer carried the smell of firewhisky, instead just purely him. “I swear to you, I’ll never put you in danger ever again. If I need to talk to someone or, I don't know, distract myself. I’d sooner fling myself from the astronomy tower than knowingly cause you harm.”

She nodded, but her mind was ping-ponging an idea around that made her reconsider her sanity. Rationality missed roll call and so when she looked up at Sebastian, when the rest of the world vignetted around him, the kiss happened all on its own.

And he was just as eager, holding her body close as he consumed in a heat that scalded her resolve. Those fucking hands of his knew precisely where to hold her, where to pull, an indication that he’d imagined this before into his fist under bedsheets. She moaned with a tender kind of tact, fingers laced in his hair, practically pulling him into her petite form.

He parted to catch his breath moments later, cheeks and nose ruddy with blood flush. “This is okay?” His eyes flickered about her face, honing in on any evidence of disagreement in her expression. “I promise I won’t be rough with you, I--”

“Sebastian,” She murmured, tracing his clavicle as she spoke. Time to come clean. With any luck, he wouldn't be horrified of her. “I… I liked it… when you choked me.”

Brown eyes blinked, and she could practically see the cogs in his head struggle to make a full rotation around her admission. “You… you enjoyed that? But--”

“I loved it.”

His lips parted then, and she saw a new look in his eyes. Perhaps this was what he sought to keep buried from her and yet here she was, laying in the very mound of dirt he turned up.

So much is communicated in their gaze. His expression changes, and the paradigm shifts. “Yeah?” His voice has a hint of heat, a sample of what is to come, and the way he comes to terms with this burned slowly in her belly. “You like rough stuff?”

Her face flamed. “I-I never knew… But when you…”

The thought clicked then, and he tilted his head. “…what did you say you were doing in here, again?”

“…I didn’t.”

A slow smirk of understanding spread and remained in place, even as his lips crashed into hers. He kissed her with more insistence this time, harder, more ragged breaths than taking her breath away. Sebastian leaned into it, teasing her with his words. “What a little imp you are, scurrying off to rub one out. I’m surprised you didn’t go to your dormitory, where I wouldn’t be able to find you, left to your own devices…”

She gasped as those tactile fucking hands of his settled at her hips, fisting the waistband of her pajamas so hard the woven texture and seams of the fabric left indentations on his palms. Her hands were put to good use then as well, attempting to unbutton his shirt without breaking their kiss, a feat in itself considering how little thought was in her brain regarding anything that wasn’t connected to his body. Sebastian resumed his little wordplay while she untucked his shirt from his trousers. “Someone’s eager, aren’t we?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, and he chuckled while swatting her hands away from his nearly open shirt, grabbing and hoisting her to sit on the crate. Her legs snapped open immediately and Sebastian let out the most beautiful breathy groan, leaning into her as his lips descended the column of her neck. The humidity of the greenhouse gathered a whisper of perspiration along their brows, but the heat between them was something else entirely. Finally undoing his shirt in her conquest, it fell from his shoulders and she couldn’t help but drink him in. “Sebastian, you’re…”

He seemed a touch vulnerable at that moment, but it faded lightning fast as he grabbed the hem of his undershirt and pulled it over his head.

Her brain was rendered a useless mound of matter as she ran her hands over his defined chest, her eyes darting to the enticing trail of hair that disappeared into his trousers.

“Fuck,” she breathed, and her intrigue spurred him on, fed the deviant within. His hand slid up her torso, deliberately over a braless breast, settling to hold her throat. The other, however, buried between her legs and cupped her mound from over her pajamas.

The sound she made was positively primal, and she crushed her bottom lip between her teeth as he applied pressure, rubbing his fingers in devastatingly slow circles that made her hips buck. He leaned in close to her ear as she whimpered, nipping a lobe. “That's my girl… sing for me.”

So she did, letting the moans out freely as he tightened his grip on her neck. Her back arched as his thumb pressed into the side of her throat, and the sensation made her acutely aware of her heartbeat. It throbbed in her head and her sex, her mouth agape as his dark eyes watched her reactions, and the wicked grin he gave her pronounced his excitement. “You like that?” He asked, voice hoarse and low, laden with lust. “You like how I touch you like this?”

She nodded eagerly, trying to control the friction between her legs with more measured motions, and he obliged with enough pressure that her wetness began to wick through the fabric, ample and abundant. “Merlin, you’re already so wet for me.” The way he spoke to her was nothing short of sinful, his voice reaching a lower pitch she’d never heard before. He sped up, letting her rock into his palm as he varied the pressure on her carotid. She could come just like this, pathetic and whining and without having taken any clothing off yet.

Sebastian seemed intent on making sure she did just that. He leaned down to mouth a nipple from over her thin t-shirt, pulling another beautiful sound of pleasure from her mouth. The cotton wet with his lips around her pebbled peak and it throttled her impending orgasm. Her moans ascended in pitch, and just as she came the hand on her throat loosened. Her climax rocketed through her then, echoing sharply off the glass panels of the greenhouse, and if anyone were in the immediate proximity they would surely know it wasn't the sound of a mandrake that wriggled loose from its pot. Thighs spasming and tight to his sides, she rode out her release against his hand, the soaked crotch of her pajamas goading him on.

His mouth disconnected from her, capturing her lips in an almost desperate kiss, despite the confidence in his tone. “You’re beautiful when you come for me,” Sebastian purred, and he finally pulled off her shirt, baring her chest. His quiet exhale signaled his enjoyment. “Fuck, look at you…”

“You like what you see?” She found her voice mingled with a new sense of boldness as she palmed her breasts for him, giving him a rightful show. Sebastian uttered an expletive to voice his approval and eagerly claimed her lips in a breathtaking kiss as he undid his belt.

“God, yes,” his response was airy and rough. “Look what you do to me…”

And look she did, as he untucked himself from his underwear, practically twitching with the reflex of his abs clenching, his cock so hard it could crush diamonds to dust. She bit her bottom lip as he palmed his member, a groan born deep in his chest as she scooted off the crate and sunk to her knees in front of him, the cobblestone floor biting her joints. His cock bobbed at the most beautiful fucking sight he ever saw, and with an eager grasp at his base, she took the tip past her lips.

Sebastian’s head lulled back as he let out a quiet “unh,” drawn out once she slid the rest of his length into her mouth. She took his wrists then, bringing them behind her head, and his body knew precisely what to do as his fingers combed through her hair. With an abrupt thrust, he pushed deep into her eager mouth, and the moan that vibrated around his girth was all the encouragement he needed to repeat the motion. He imparted a slow, but intense pace, and she kept up with a slacked jaw and willing tongue. His cock glistened as it slid past her lips, a delicious mix of her saliva and his precum dribbling down her chin as she let him fuck her pretty mouth. The tip hammered the back of her throat and the sound she made to suppress her gag reflex stirred something in his chest, as if the nature of his ability to determine true love had some dirty little kinks of its own.

Then again, looking down into her eyes, gone glassy with the effort of her fellation, he had to wonder.

She didn't offer much room for second thoughts as she bobbed forward, taking him to the very base and then some, her nose pressed into the tufts of hair at his pubic bone. He held her there as she swallowed around his cock, her throat clenched as she sucked hard. With her airways constricted her breath was caught with nowhere to go and she properly choked, her face going red. Sebastian had never experienced something this intense, and he panted with balled fists in her hair to pull tightly.

His hips snapped, withdrawing from her mouth as she sucked in a breath, so quickly that she coughed from the rush of air. “While I’d love to keep fucking your mouth,” he grinned, and she swore she saw the devil himself, “I need you to come around my cock while I choke that pretty little throat of yours.”

His words were music to her ears. She obliged, and he pulled her up by the hair to stand again, attacking her lips, all teeth and tongues. His fingernails scratched her hips as he wrenched her pajama bottoms down, her panties joining them at her ankles before he lifted her onto the crate again. The wood scraped her bottom but she had no room to protest as his cock commanded her attention, dragging deliciously between her puffy folds. “Sebastian, please,” she mewled almost pathetically, angling her hips in hopes of slipping him in on her own.

“Oh sweetheart,” he sighed softly, “you’re so wet…”

An unexpected moment of tenderness claimed his senses then and he looked up, their gazes meeting, hearts swelling. He cupped her cheek, swiping a spot of spit from her chin as he leaned in to kiss her with a softness that he wasn't accustomed to. For all the pain he’d known, for all the darkness that stained his being, she was the safe space to embrace.

And he dare not let go of her. Not again. Not ever.

Her name fell from his lips as he slid inside of her. She hissed quietly as she acclimated to his length, testing his girth with a tightness that sent shivers up her spine. He rolled his hips, and she faced the heavens.

Sebastian was an intense lover, she discovered, his forehead pressed to hers as he fucked her deep, rocking on her ass with his eager motions. She was keen to contribute, her legs pretzeled around his waist, hands gripping his biceps for support, holding on for the ride of her life. Her plush warmth enveloped his cock, a silken heat that pulled him in. Their pace was perfection, enough to build their pleasure without losing traction.

“Mm, here.” He scooped her up at the bottom, carrying her effortlessly to a nearby workstation, gesturing her to lay her back on the desktop. “I wanna see all of you…”

He grabbed her hips with an almost bruising firmness and continued to fuck her on the workstation, watching his cock pump in and out of her, and she realized with a soft chuckle why he’d chosen this specific desk. No doubt this was a slight dig at her previous crush during their third year, Leander fucking Prewett, when Sebastian had caught them snogging outside the entrance to their common room. He’d teased her relentlessly for it, and now she had half a mind to wonder if it was a little crush of his own developing back then. His wicked grin implied they were on the same page. “You little shit,” she chuckled, but it cut off as he slammed inside, pulling an especially loud moan from her. No room for Gryffindor thoughts in this snake pit.

Sebastian’s gaze darkened with lust, his hair tousled along his forehead. One of those perfect hands claimed her throat as he shrouded her. “Yes,” she rasped, and he clasped firmly, squeezing precisely where he had to to get her heart thundering through her temples. She realized then, as her pulse became dangerously loud behind her ears, that he was timing his thrusts to her heartbeat. Her back arched with the increased pace, a symphony of gargled moans singing his praises as she quickly ascended the peak of an approaching climax. “Sebastian, I’m—I’m close…”

“I know,” he replied, unyielding in his motions. The edges of her vision greyed, and before she could protest the impending blackout, he eased his grip. At the precise moment that oxygenated blood returned to her brain, she came hard around his cock, hollering his name as she convulsed on the desk. Sebastian didn't stop, however, chasing the tails of his release with reckless abandon, hips pistoning so hard the table jostled and scraped against the floor. When he did come he punctuated it with a growled expletive, holding his hips flush to hers as her spent, quivering sex milked him for all he could give.

He collapsed onto her chest, kissing her sternum between shallow breaths. “You felt so, so good,” he whispered, craning his neck to offer breathless kisses as she cradled his head adoringly. She gestured to sit upright and he pulled out, sooner than he’d wanted, but he could tell by her soft groan that the firm surface had to be brutal on her spine.

Instead, she held him, melting into another appreciative kiss. “As did you. That was… I never knew it could feel like that.”

Sebastian chuckled, nosing her cheek with affection. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have left you alone after all.”

Her smile faltered, and he caught the echo of pain behind her eyes. “Sorry, I… I should have talked to you about this sooner. I was wrong to have shut you out this way. I was only trying to ensure your safety.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “I’ll make it up to you, for lost time.”

“You better,” she grinned again, this time with fondness as she brushed the bangs back from his forehead. “And, maybe… we can keep exploring these new enjoyments together. Perhaps by letting you indulge in some rougher activities, it will help.”

Sebastian nodded slowly. “You’d want to do that for me?”

“Of course I would,” She replied without hesitation. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer my assistance?”

A strong brow raised at that, and he smirked. “Oh, is this currently what you would define as friend behaviour between us?” he gestured to their naked forms, flushed pink with post-sex afterglow, glistening with a sheen of sweat. “Merlin, you’ve become awfully chummy.”

She rolled her eyes, thanking him wordlessly as he helped put her shirt back on before retrieving his own. “So you’re assuming I’m you’re girlfriend now or something?”

“Will you?”

She caught it; fleeting, but there nevertheless, a fond expression that brought back memories of his younger years, a boyish charm that captured her heart long ago. Her Sebastian was still living, hidden beneath layers of tarnish and grime, but certainly there, and she would polish him back to his original splendour and shine. She nodded, and they made plans to meet again sooner rather than later because later was an awful prospect in this touching moment of reunion.

She left the greenhouse with his hand in hers, a changed woman, gladly leaving the bodies of their former selves on the floor, all akimbo and forgotten, a distraction for the pain of the past to feast upon, releasing them from the confines of their creation.

Love is a murder, after all.

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scaranation · 1 year

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༊*·˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒’ 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐓

header art by @/kkaags on twitter

Pairing: chess captain!Ayato x reader

Content: fluff, headcannons, modern high school au, ayato is slightly a red flag on this one

You joined the chess club as a newcomer to the game, where Ayato introduces himself as a fellow beginner. You think he's just terrible at chess - after all, how could he lose to you so often? However, as time goes on, you begin to question if you're the one who's been playing into his hands all this time...

a/n - was just rereading ayato lore and remembered he plays chess, so i wanted to write about him doing it in a modern chess setting where he's absolutely whipped for the reader 😭 i cant stop writing about desperate genshin men im so sorry

chess captain!ayato, who’s been harbouring a small crush on you ever since you stepped foot in campus. despite taking different classes, you’d always be the centre of his attention, even if you rarely interacted with him.

chess captain!ayato, who’s elated to see you join the club. the moment you confess to being a beginner, he flashed you a smile before asserting that he, too, was new to the game.

chess captain!ayato, who revelled in the gleeful look on your face whenever you won a game against him. he’d take care to fumble right into your victory each time, just to feel his heart flutter when you smiled.

chess captain!ayato, who’d play exactly as you wanted when you tried book moves for the first time. oh, you were attempting a scholar’s mate? he’d ‘accidentally’ fall right into the trap, feigning shock as you smugly pushed your queen to F7.

chess captain!ayato, who ignored the incredulous looks everyone else shot him when he blundered his way through every game with you. as a highly accomplished player - winning all the tournaments he competed in - it certainly was a sight to see the kamisato ayato open with pawn to H4.

chess captain!ayato, who would only play at his true level when you weren’t looking. his favourite hobby was to push the worst move possible and watch your thinly veiled happiness as you won yet again, pretending to be annoyed when you teased him for his ‘stupidity’.

chess captain!ayato, who would leave ayaka to run the club as his vice captain whenever he was busy in a game with you. he enjoyed the expression on your face as you thought, the light twitching of your lips to murmur ghostly syllables to yourself. he liked to imagine how those lips would feel on his.

chess captain!ayato, who would desperately try to prevent you from realising he wasn’t exactly as bad as you thought he was. when you were talking to your friends about how absolutely hopeless he was at chess, he’d shoot them a silencing look to staunch their shocked expressions. if you tried to look up previous records from tournaments, you’d somehow find yourself in conversation with him and forget about what you were doing entirely.

chess captain!ayato, who’d nod eagerly and let you ‘coach’ him in chess. he’d smile so delicately as you bid him good luck before a tournament, whilst everyone else idly wondered why on earth the feared ayato would need help to be reminded of piece value.

chess captain!ayato, who’d be too immersed to notice you if you walked in on him playing a proper game. you’d be stunned at the way his fingers gracefully snapped the pieces into position without hesitation, the subtle clink of lacquered wood against the board reasonating through the room as he claimed piece after piece. he was nothing like the foolish, impulsive player you’d versed countless other times.

chess captain!ayato, who’d study his opponents with an almost terrifying look of sheer calculation. his eyes would skim emotionlessly over the board, lithe hands almost flying between the pieces and the timer. occasionally, a cold smirk or two would escape - indicative of his incoming victory.

chess captain!ayato, who’d look so wounded when you found out - acting like you’d caught him cheating on your non-existent relationship. you’d only feel embarrassed at having thought you were better than this absolute menace of a player, whilst he apologised time and time again before (timidly) asking you to play one more round.

chess captain!ayato, who’d then offer to properly teach you outside of school hours. of course, he didn’t view them as tutoring sessions - he saw them as dates. or, perhaps, just opportunities for him to admire your face until he reached the stage of his plan where he could ask you out, and you’d be too equally infatuated to refuse.

Checkmate.

༊*·˚

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drizztdohurtin · 3 months

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welcome to the collection of my favorite horny and hilarious bg3 content

!! MDNI !!

rolan fic updates

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about me

personal blog ( @hemipenis )

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social links (X, Ko-Fi, Bluesky, etc.)

header by Kent Davis

Do I take requests? Yes and no, read more. View WIPs here

Masterlist

// Rolan

See all dad!Rolan content here See all Rolan writing and thoughts here

NSFW Headcanons (NSFW)

Pining and Dating (headcanons) (slight NSFW)

Marriage and Domesticity (headcanons)

How would Rolan push away thoughts of a crush throughout the game? (opinion)

Would Rolan ever forgive Zevlor?

How does Rolan feel about Scratch?

Which companion would Rolan get along with the best?

How would Rolan discover kinks? (opinion) (NSFW)

Deciding to Start a Family and Conceiving (headcanons) (angst and NSFW)

Pregnancy (headcanons) (angst, fluff)

Rolan's First Day as a Father (blurb) (angst, fluff)

Is Rolan a chest or an ass guy? (opinion) (NSFW)

Does Rolan get a dad bod?

How does he feel about the companions holding his baby? (opinion) (fluff)

Fatherhood (headcanons) (angst, fluff)

Baby 1 vs Baby 2 (opinion/headcanons) (fluff)

sub!Rolan NSFW Headcanons (NSFW)

Taftm Mot (3.5k words one-shot) (NSFW)

// Gale

NSFW Headcanons (NSFW)

Pining, Dating, Marriage, & Domesticity (headcanons) (slight NSFW)

Deciding to Start a Family and Conceiving (NSFW)

Pregnancy and Fatherhood (NSFW , fluff)

// Other

Tiefling Purring Headcanons (partially NSFW)

General Tiefling Headcanons (partially NSFW)

Who would wanna get pegged? Would I write for Kar'niss? (opinion) (NSFW)

Is Nere just a brat? (opinion) (NSFW)

How prehensile are tiefling tails? (opinion) (NSFW)

// Ask a DM

Resistance to Drow poison through microdosing?

D&D/Forgotten Realms lore: Are all Drow men submissive and breedable? (NSFW)

My favorite class to watch players rp as a DM

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thevillainswhore · 10 months

Text

A Second Chance: Part 1

Pairing: Ex-Husband!Nick Fowler x Ex-Wife!Reader

Summary: Love just wasn’t enough to keep your marriage together - Nick’s restless ambition to get the promotion in his career ended up driving an everlasting wedge between the two of you, and resulting in divorce. But when you come back home to New York after three years away in London, can Nick win back your heart?

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of s-exually explicit content, flashbacks, lots of fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst? nothing too huge (yet).

A/N: Beta’d by @sgt-seabass, headers made by @saradika - so excited to be able to share my first story with you all! I had so much encouragement and support to begin writing and I appreciate it so much 💗 this is part one! not sure how many parts there will be altogether, but we go with it anyway 🤣 hope you enjoy!

People often asked Nick if he had heard of you before.

An Agent Recruitment Officer for Shield - hand picked by Fury himself for your hard ass attitude, along with a talent for training basic, low-level recruits and transforming them into the best agents anyone had seen.

A true force to be reckoned with.

Your name was in the whispers of the high-ranks of the CIA, impressed enough with your work ethic for offers to be thrown at you to join their team, only for you to politely decline ‘due to your loyalty to your own agency’. So of course Nick - a higher class CIA agent in the running for a director promotion at the time - had heard of you. The legend bestowed upon you didn’t allow many to wonder who you were.

But he would never forget the first time he met you.

A private gala to celebrate the new batch of Shield Agents cleared for active duty was an annual event - members from all agencies serving to protect invited too. Congratulations had been given to those who had completed the extensive year long training in order to serve the public and thank you’s for a successful year were designated to those who made it all possible.

That’s when Nick encountered you for the very first time - the spotlight directed onto you with applause for your groundbreaking achievements in training. The high slit of your silk black dress teased the side of your thigh enough to let his imagination run wild, ‘V’ neckline cutted down below your breasts, complimenting the shape of your body. Transfixed was appropriate to describe how he felt, your aura called to him like a siren to a sailor.

Nick needed you. The fixation he had harbored for you in such a short time should have frightened him, but he had already fallen too deep into your spell to ever want to come up for air.

As the live band music played after the end of the announcements, he set his champagne down onto the nearest surface without ever taking his eyes from you. Smoothing down the lapels of his jacket, he took off into your direction, his strides confident as he observed you catch his eye. Power oozed from you as you lifted your hand to halt the conversation with your group of friends.

There was interest in your gaze - Nick knew he was a very attractive man, the raise in your brow as you gave him a once over - evidence that you knew he was enchanting too.

He wasn’t afraid to use that to his advantage.

Nick stopped directly in front of you, your body fully turned to face him - a routine occurrence with men throwing themselves at you often. Intense eye contact was held between the two of you, your refusal to be any kind of submissive caused a tent to form in his trousers. Fuck, he had never met anyone like you.

You were dangerous and he loved it.

Nick sensed that the pair of you had gathered an audience of your co-workers, drawn to the spectacle he assumed was common for you at this point, and decided to be the one to cut the tension. “Hey. I just wanted to come over to congratulate you on your performance this year, Agent. Very impressive, if I do say so myself.”

A flash of disappointment crossed your face - you were expecting more from him. He needed to play his cards right. You didn’t need anyone, let alone a man, to tell you how you were doing your job - already fully aware of your excellence.

The tigress in you came out to play, “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be the first to tell me that.”

If Nick were a regular man he would have cut his losses there. “Is that so, hm?” He questioned as he followed up with an invitation. “Well, can I be the first to ask for the pleasure to take you out to dinner?”

An amused huff of air broke free from your lips as you angled your head in dismissal, “and what makes you so sure I’d be interested in you? I don’t even know your name.” The women surrounding you started to snicker, jokes passed between themselves at your jab, expecting yet another stranger who wanted to try their luck with you to fumble and walk away in embarrassment like they all did.

But that was the thing. Nick wasn’t like the others. And he knew now that he had set his sights on you, there was no way he was going to be fool enough to let a woman like you slip through his fingers.

So, with unwavering confidence and no falter in his stance for your disregard, his eyes trailed salaciously up and down your form as he licked his lips - that damn smirk almost gave you whiplash when he smoothly replied back with, “oh sweetheart.. I’ll make sure you know my name by the end of the night. In fact, I can assure you that everyone in this building will know it too.”

Your eyes dilated as the rest of the world blurred around the both of you, the genuine surprise at his cockiness in your features was subtle along with the tiny gasp you let escape.

You would soon realise that Nick didn’t miss a thing.

He could tell no one had ever caught you off guard like that before - he wished more than ever to be able to know what you were thinking.

But, for now, you quickly shook back your composure, and he admired your unwillingness to lose the fiery game you were playing.

It seemed you had finally met your match.

Rivalling his smirk with a menacing one of your own, you bit your plump crimson lip, and it took all of Nick’s strength to hold back his groan, imagining that same shade of red decorating a ring around his cock - which proved to be more difficult when your honeyed drawl snapped him out of his dirty thoughts. “Is that a promise, handsome?”.

And right then, was the exact moment Nick knew he was gonna marry you.

He already established from his first glimpse of you that you were a fierce powerhouse with a rare beauty you wouldn’t find often in a lifetime. But your teasing back and forth and indescribable pull solidified the conclusion in his mind that one else would ever stand a chance to compete, could ever hope, to live up to your standard.

He was hooked. And soon enough, he hoped you would be too.

Nick often thought back on that night with fondness, monumentally grateful for the chance to have met you and bask in your presence. You really did change his life in the most perfect way imaginable, the glint from his wedding ring confirming agreement.

“Fowler, let’s go. You’re gonna be late.”

Snapping the ring box shut, he places the treasured jewelry back into his safe and locks it shut, sighing with resignation at the reminder of what’s awaiting him tonight.

“Oh don’t you take your strop out on me mister, I’m not the one who agreed to this.”

He levels his assistant with a deadpan look. It’s a good job he likes Elsie. She’s one of the only people who can get away with talking to him like that, uncaring of his brooding nature that everyone else tends to avoid. She’s stuck with him for two and a half years now, the sweet middle-aged lady full of fire with a need to boss him around.

Huh, reminds him of someone else.

He stands up, grabs his blue velvet suit blazer from the back of his chair to slide through his arms, and buttons it up, reaching under his shirt collar when done to tie the undone bow.

After a few failed attempts, Elsie steps forward with a fond shake of her head and smacks his hands away, perfecting it first try with years of experience.

“What would you do without me eh, kid?” Nick strives to keep a smile from reaching the surface, but he can’t help the genuine laugh that escapes him at her antics. Happy for that little bit of relief she gives him in the impending chaos.

She’d seen all the highs and most definitely all the lows of Nick in the whirlwind of the last three years. So much has happened that time seems to have flown by and yet dragged on too. But he’s a better man because of it - the vow he fulfilled to get his shit together after everything went downhill, seen through.

He’s proud of himself.

He likes to think you would be too.

That didn’t mean he was looking forward to his fate for the night. An invitation from Tony Stark accepted for his latest convention to showcase the most recent technology and gadgets available for order to relative agencies who were clean - he was actually excited about that part.

The worst part of his night would be playing lovey dovey to his ‘date’ (translate to spoiled brat) - a media stunt arranged by his publicist to try and restore his name in the world. Delusional. But he made a promise to be on his best behaviour to Elsie, and Nick makes good on his promises. He respected her too much not to.

So, with the balance of chivalry and the need to bite his tongue to keep from snapping, treading a thin line, he holds the car door open for the girl who’s name he can’t remember for the life of him, and plays his part - zoning out from her incoherent babble on the way to the event in the farce of being a good listener.

Instead he lets his mind wander off to another memory of the past - to some of the best days of his life - lips curving up into a gentle smile, as he lifts his right thumb to stroke over the left side of his chest.

The three months since Nick first met you had been nothing short of amazing. The dinner dates. The flowers he had delivered to you at least once a day with dirty teases written on hidden notes, overflowing your office and making those jealous of you seethe. Nick had not fallen short of wooing you, your heart willingly falling into the palm of his hands for him to take care of.

And so most people would be shocked to know that the two of you only had sex for the first time last night. Heated makeouts as you grinded against his cock on his lap, panting into the others mouth in hot desperation were no stranger to the end of your date night routine. But Nick was determined to prove he wanted your heart too, not just your body - he craved to understand your mind.

He was down bad for you and wasn’t ashamed for anyone to know it.

So, as he laid in bed the morning after your passionate night together, admiring how at peace you seemed snuggled into his chest, he noticed the ruby red lipstick mark printed perfectly on his skin above his heart.

An idea sprung to mind, needing no second consideration as he called his tattoo artist, requesting an urgent home visit and a hefty price offer.

Quiet footsteps towards the open doorway gave away your quest to see where your lover had disappeared to and he couldn’t help the smile growing on his face he tried to hide under the pretense of not knowing you were there. But Nick saw you from the corner of his eye, shock paralysing your body, as he leaned back in his expensive leather chair, tattoo needle inking his skin with the finishing details of the shape of your lips, your name in cursive taking place right next to it.

It was no surprise to him to hear you blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re fucking crazy, Nicki”.

He simply looked up at you, walking towards him with his unbuttoned shirt hung loose over your shoulders, something close to awe in your eyes and waved his hand in signal for the artist to leave.

With you and Nick alone, you brought your body to stand between his spread legs, lifting your pointer finger to delicately trace his new addition, goosebumps following the scrape of your nail. It fit so well, almost like it should have been there all along.

He rested his chin on your stomach, those big hands that eagerly touched every part of you, caressed the back of your thighs. Mischief in his eyes, he suddenly swiped your legs from under you, the deep chuckle at your startled squeal making your bare pussy drip against his crotch.

Content with you straddled in his lap, he deposited a single kiss to the curve of your neck, trailing his lips against your skin to whisper pure Romanian honey directly into your ear.

“Nebun după tine, îngerul meu.” - Crazy about you, my angel.

The screech of the car tires snaps Nick out of his daydream. Wishing he could go back to that moment in time, he looks out of the window to see they’ve arrived, flashing lights and red carpet triggering the anxiety that’s rippled through him at the thought of doing these events since he started coming alone.

Maybe if he had you by his side again, he would enjoy it.

“Are you going to get out or not?”. The irritating high pitched drone of his companion grates on him.

He doesn’t even try to cover up the huge sigh he lets out as he begins to step out of the car.

It was going to be a long night.

A/N: I know i mentioned posting Bucky fic first but this popped up out of nowhere! Buckys coming very soon, but I loved writing this and couldn’t wait to get it out 😅 also I posted this on mobile, so if anything looks out of place or weird, please let me know! thank you 😌

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redthreadoffate · 2 months

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endgame

header by @/earlgreymon

for @ashxketchum!! requested some time ago and finally got to finish it (there's a part that just won't write itself!). i know you asked for takari but your takari for me, my mimato for you (even though it's a little unfair since i love mimato, too). i still do hope you like it! i had a lot of fun writing this and it kinda went on and on as i typed once the part finally wrote itself. anyways! enjoy (i hope)!!

endgame | main characters ; yamato ishida, mimi tachikawa, some taichi yagami and sora takenouchi, can't forget gabumon, palmon, agumon, and piyomon | universe ; au / can be placed anywhere after 02 | ships ; yamato x mimi, taichi x sora, takeru x hikari | genre ; fluff, humor | word count ; 2,235 | rating ; 13+ | edited ; three times - forgive me for any mistakes

Yamato was never in the mood for flirting. He knew people fawned over him, he knew his band was worshiped by those his age, and sure, he did “have a feeling” that flirting was going to be part of his life. But he never even tried to flirt back. Well, maybe he did, but it was usually against his will.

The band was not together anymore, having to go their separate ways, but he still loved them. The flirting, however, did not stop. He knew he was a good-looking guy but now that he was living a life that did not involve anything that required him to “go out there and fly”, maybe a life without people flirting with him 24/7 would be nice.

He and Taichi were having a meal in a small diner with Gabumon and Agumon hidden beside them. The digimons were enjoying their food while their partners talked about school.

Although they took up different courses, they still had some minor classes together, which, despite Yamato not admitting it, was a relief from all the other students they swarmed with. He had made some friends, but no one at the same level he had with Taichi. Everyone came from different backgrounds, and if they were to be honest, it was a little overwhelming, especially since it was their first year in university.

“Are you going to Shinichi’s party on Friday?” Taichi asked.

“Who’s Shinichi?” Yamato questioned, not bothering to look up from his food.

“He’s in one of our minor classes,” Taichi responded, “cool guy. But this party is a little too early, don’t you think? It could be a way to make some friends, I guess. Wanna go together?”

“Can we go?” Agumon asked.

“A party’s always fun,” Gabumon said.

Taichi smiled at them and then looked at Yamato. “What do you say?”

Yamato looked over at the smiling Gabumon and Agumon and sighed. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Great!” Taichi exclaimed.

“But you’re driving,” Yamato said.

“Sora will.”

“Sora?”

“Yeah. She wants to go. But she wants to bring her car so that she can leave anytime she wants.” Taichi shrugged. “Her mom’s car. And she said walking would be a pain, Shinichi’s venue is a little far.”

“We can always ask Birdramon to fly us away,” Agumon jested.

Taichi chuckled, Gabumon laughed, and even Yamato gave a smile.

“So what time do we meet her?” Yamato asked.

“Not sure yet. But we’ll ask her, or message if we don’t see each other anytime soon.”

Yamato smirked. “Right. Anytime soon.”

When Friday arrived, Sora, Taichi, and Yamato, along with their digimon partners, were packed inside Sora’s mom’s car. It was just a four-seater after all, it would only be Mrs. Takenouchi, Sora, whenever Mr. Takenouchi would come home, and Piyomon. And of course, Piyomon rode shotgun, while the men were cramped at the back.

“I think we’re here,” Sora said, looking out the window.

“Finally,” Yamato sighed in relief.

“The place is packed and in full swing!” Taichi said.

“Let’s just find a place to park. Doesn’t look like there’s a lot of cars.”

As they drove around, Gabumon pointed at a spot and Sora immediately swirled to get to it. Both Taichi and Yamato looked at each other, surprised by the speed and sudden jerk of the ride.

They got out of the car and Taichi whispered how his soul nearly left his body after that short ride. Yamato rolled his eyes and stated that he was overreacting.

“His place isn’t that big up-close,” Taichi observed. “It’s just the garden.”

“You think there’ll be beer?” Yamato wondered.

“You three find a spot,” Sora ordered. “Somewhere we can see each other.”

“I don’t think there is a place where we can see each other,” Yamato said.

That could be true. The house was packed. So far, the three have not found anyone they knew. But they were just outside and there were not many people around, perhaps they would find more people inside.

“Think you three can go around without being seen?” Taichi asked.

“Of course!” All three digimons grinned.

The group dispersed, the digimons to the right and the Chosen Children straight ahead.

When they reached inside, they looked around for anyone familiar. After a minute of standing by the door, Sora was called by another young lady and she excused herself from the boys.

“We’ll leave at midnight on the dot,” she told them as she walked away.

“Yes, ma’am,” they both murmured.

After some time of just being together, people-watching, someone came up to them. Taichi straightened up while Yamato raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, glad you two can make it!”

“Thanks for the invite, Shinichi,” Taichi said, smiling.

“Yeah, the party’s great,” Yamato said, although he actually did not find the party that great.

“I’m glad you think so, Yamato. I really wanted your approval.” Shinichi grinned. “I heard you were pretty popular back then, I know you are right now. I wanted the approval of someone who knows how to party.”

“I don’t know how to party,” he replied. “I was in a band, but that didn’t mean we were always partying.”

“I see.” Shinichi pursed his lips. “I’m sorry for assuming. But anyway, enjoy the party.” And he waved goodbye as he disappeared into the crowd.

“I think he likes you,” Taichi joked.

Yamato sighed. “I don’t regret the band.”

“I know you don’t, we all do.” Taichi placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “But come on, enough of this. Time to have fun before the old lady tells us to go home.” He snickered.

Yamato scoffed. “I’m going to tell her you said that, I’m sure she won’t like it. At all.”

They both laughed.

The two did enjoy the party. They made new acquaintances and even stuck with a group. They invited Sora in and the three were glad they had new people by their side.

At some point, as the group was talking, Sora paused mid-sentence and everyone waited for her to continue.

“So—?”

“Mimi!”

Both Taichi and Yamato immediately looked to where Sora saw Mimi, followed by the rest of the group.

“What’s she doing here?” Sora wondered, her voice filled with worry.

“Why?” One of the members asked. “What’s wrong?”

Sora shook her head and headed straight for the young girl. Taichi and Yamato followed suit.

“Mimi,” Sora called her.

Mimi looked back and grinned. “Sora!” She stepped forward and gave her a hug, which Sora returned. When they let go, Mimi hugged both Taichi and Yamato as well. “I’m sure Palmon has found the others already.”

“Mimi,” Sora said softly. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited,” she smiled. “They said there was going to be a party here and I thought it might be fun, you know. And Palmon’s with me.”

“Mimi,” Taichi started. “Who invited you?”

“Shinichi Ozawa did,” she replied. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well, no…” Sora said, tilting her head a little. “But, this is a college party. Does Shinichi know that you’re not a college student yet?”

Mimi began to think. “I went to your campus one time, and that’s when he invited me.”

“What were you doing on our campus?” Yamato asked.

“I wanted to surprise you all,” she answered, grinning at him. “But then I asked if you three were coming to the party. He said he wasn’t sure but I wanted to take my chances and surprise you here instead! Isn’t this fun?” Though she sounded unsure when she said the last part.

Yamato sighed. “I don’t think asking you to leave is an option, especially since you’ll be alone—even with Palmon.”

“So what do we do?” Taichi asked.

Sora licked her upper lip. “Babysit.”

Mimi’s eyes widened. “No!”

“Mimi, we don’t know these people. We don’t know these people. Please, stick with at least one of us. We’ll make it up to you, we promise. Just please, Mimi?” Sora pouted.

Mimi looked at all three of them but focused on Sora last. After a few seconds, Mimi sighed. “Okay. I don’t want to admit it but I am a little nervous about this.” She frowned. “Especially since I wasn’t even sure if you guys would be here.”

The three older Chosen Children sighed in relief.

Just then, the group that group the three were talking to appeared and asked what was happening.

“This is Mimi,” Sora introduced. “She’s one of our closest friends.”

“Really?” One of the guys asked. “I’ve never seen you around campus. What course are you in?”

“She’s from another university,” Yamato said quickly.

“May I visit you there?” the same guy asked, his voice a little flirty.

Yamato was suddenly feeling very protective of the younger girl. He did not like the thought of an older stranger visiting her. “Not at the moment,” he said.

“Why don’t you let her answer for herself?” the guy snapped.

Mimi smiled. “Yamato’s just always been protective of us. I don’t mind him answering for me…sometimes.” She giggled.

Yamato knew she was lying so he wondered why she was playing along.

The party was in even fuller swing about forty-five minutes later. Although the three knew Mimi was not too happy with the situation, they also saw that she was having a good time.

At the stroke of twelve, Sora ordered everyone out of the house after thanking Shinichi for the invite. As they headed for the car, the four digimons arrived by their side.

“Yamato, would you take the car and bring Mimi home?” Sora asked.

“Sure,” Yamato answered. “But what about you guys?”

Taichi intertwined his and Sora’s fingers and smiled.

“Got it.”

Mimi squealed. “You two have fun!”

“Agumon, Piyomon?” Palmon looked at them.

“We’ll protect them,” Piyomon said. “But we won’t ruin their moment.”

When everything was set, Yamato, Mimi, Gabumon, and Palmon entered the car. They were quiet for a while until Palmon asked Gabumon how Takeru and Hikari were.

“They’re still very shy,” Gabumon replied. “But that’s expected, right, Yamato?”

“Either very shy or very guarded,” he said with a laugh. “Taichi is still all over them.”

“And you’re not?” Mimi asked, smiling.

Yamato smirked. “Takeru can handle himself. Even if this is his first relationship.”

“Everyone knows Takeru and Hikari would be endgame,” Mimi said with a giggle.

“And Taichi and Sora, too,” Gabumon added.

“Yamato, didn’t Sora have a crush on you before? Mimi said that she gave you something special for Christmas one time. What happened?”

“Palmon!” Mimi chided.

Yamato sighed. “I’ve only told Taichi what happened.”

“I’m sorry,” Palmon said, bowing her head. “I was just very curious now that the topic came up.”

“I knew that Taichi had feelings for her, and I couldn’t do that to him, especially since I only ever felt feelings of friendship for Sora.”

“And Sora gradually had feelings for Taichi, too. And he didn’t even have to try too hard despite having strong feelings, correct?” Mimi grinned as Yamato nodded. “It just means they’re meant to be!”

The four talked more about their friend’s love lives. Mimi’s home was a little on the farther side so they had a lot of time to gossip.

Finally, Mimi had a mischievous look on her face. “What about you, Yamato?”

Yamato smirked. “What about you, Mimi?”

“Don’t turn this in my direction. I asked first.”

“If there’s nothing to say then it only makes sense the question goes back to you.”

“Oh please, someone like you is bound to have someone in mind.”

“There’s no one, Mimi. And again, what about you? If I remember correctly, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.”

“I still am,” she admitted. “But my goal is different now. I want to play Cupid.”

“Don’t force it though.”

“I know the limits. Now c’mon, Yamato. Answer me.”

“There’s no one, Mimi.”

“Do I have to play Cupid?”

“If it’s with you then I don’t mind.” A smirk on his face.

“I’m serious!”

“Oh look, we’re here.”

Mimi looked up and sighed when she saw the building she lived in. “Okay, fine. But you owe me an answer, Ishida.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes, but a smirk appeared on his face. “It’s time to go, Tachikawa. It’s getting late. Too late.”

“Will you bring the car back to Sora’s?”

“Yes. And then Gabumon and I will walk home.”

Mimi smiled. “Okay. Thanks for the ride.” She turned to the back seat as Palmon went down. “Goodnight, Gabumon.”

Yamato raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll say goodnight to you if you give me an answer.”

“The gas is running,” Yamato said, looking at the meter. “Goodnight, Mimi. Goodnight, Palmon.”

“Goodnight, Yamato,” Palmon said with a wave.

Mimi chuckled. “Okay. Goodnight, Yamato. Goodnight again, Gabumon.”

“Goodnight, Mimi. Goodnight, Palmon,” Gabumon said.

Yamato looked at her and smiled. “G’night.”

Mimi smiled once again and closed the door.

Once Yamato saw that the two had gone inside the building safely, he drove away.

“Yamato,” Gabumon said.

“Yeah?”

“You were flirting with Mimi, weren’t you?”

Yamato choked. “Flirting? Me? I wouldn’t say so.”

“You were.”

“I was not.”

“You even said—.”

“Gabumon,” Yamato said in a warning tone. This only made his digimon laugh. “Gabumon!”

“You won’t admit it, but you were!”

Yamato sighed. “You’re not letting this go, are you?” Gabumon shook his head. “Just don’t mention it to anyone. And no, I was not flirting.”

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