#alright this is my last tag but i’ll be around. hope you are well and let me know!!

[hanjisick]

— COOKIES

order #6 of the coffee shop series: a cookie

ingredients. y/n x barista!felix. he’s never had a gf before. hopeless pining on felix’s end. mostly fluff with some angst. also the boys keep trying to play shitty wingmen again.

allergies. making out and felix being awkward

size. 3.2k

special add ons. felix is a sociable, confident, kind barista at yellow wood café. but once you show up on one rainy day, you turn him into a mess.

you hadn’t prepared for the rain to come so quickly.

the forecast had said that it would only pick up in the afternoon, and you figured that you would be home by then. so of course, you had left your umbrella at home.

you decided to run into the nearest building, hoping to stay there until the rain had died down a little.

it was a coffee shop, one that you hadn’t been to before. you had no clue how you didn’t know the place existed. it seemed like just your type of hang-out spot.

the difference between the café and outside was stark. looking through the windows, it was gloomy and intense, while inside, the atmosphere was warm and cozy. the smell of coffee brewing and people chatting filled your senses.

“can i help you?” you had been staring off for a minute now, your entire body drenched in rain.

“sorry,” you apologized, “i was just looking for somewhere to be until the rain stopped.”

“you’re alright! could i get anything for you while you wait?”

your eyes stared the barista up and down. he was around your age— and was the epitome of sunshine. his features were gentle and strikingly beautiful.

his name tag read “felix.”

then, you drifted towards the menu on the counter, written in chalk, slightly smudged.

“are the cookies any good?” you questioned, staring at the cute plastic containers full of baked goods, specifically the heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies.

“well, i baked them myself, so they better be good.” felix’s shy smile told you that he was proud of his baking.

“i’ll buy one and see for myself.”

usually, the freckled barista wasn’t nervous at comments like these, but your gentle eyes made his heart flip in ways that he didn’t quite understand. “will that be all?”

“for now.”

he rang you up, handing you the cookies straight out of the container.

without waiting to sit down, you bit into the cookie.

two of felix’s fingers met his neck, checking his pulse quickly— a nervous habit of his.

but his nerves turned into excitement as your eyes lit up.

“i’ll take two more cookies and a mocha, please!”

felix couldn’t help but smile widely, “our muffins are really good too. we have blueberry and chocolate chip right now, but i’m working on a recipe for a cappuccino muffin.”

you cut his ramble short, “i’ll try both. and a brownie.”

“got a sweet tooth?” he rolled up the sleeves of his baby blue cardigan to begin making your mocha, “i don’t want you to get any cavities.”

“i’ll have just one bite of each and bring it home with me,” you reasoned, taking a stool at the bar, “i have nothing better to do, anyway. the rain says it’ll last for another hour.”

“so you’re gonna spend that hour taste-testing the treats?”

“i’ve never been here before, i better start working on my regular order.”

“will you be a new regular?”

“if the mocha is good. otherwise i think i’ll just go back out into the rain, i’m already drenched anyway.”

there you go again. causing felix to worry about how good his barista skills were in a way that nobody does.

he couldn’t help but drizzle a chocolate heart on top before handing it to you.

immediately felix jumped back. “your hands are freezing!”

“that’s what happens when you’re in the rain.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at felix’s concern. it wasn’t bad at all.

“i think this goes against every rule we have here,” felix shrugged off his cardigan, throwing it across the counter.

immediately your quiet laugh died down, your stomach twisting with butterflies. mostly at how kind the freckled boy was, but you couldn’t ignore the way that the white shirt under it clung to him tighter.

“thank you.” you wrapped yourself in the cardigan, breathing in a faint scent of a fruity perfume, almost masked by the overwhelming smell of coffee.

“felix,” chan, his boss, nudged him with a grin, “did you just do what i think you did?”

if it were any other barista, they would’ve been scolded. but felix had taken up a large spot in chan’s heart, one that meant that he refused to rebuke the boy.

“she was cold! right, y/n?” he defended, “she just came in from the rain outside.”

“so you’re just gonna give every customer your clothes if they’re cold?”

you could see a faint red tint forming on felix’s ears, “well no! but she’s new, i wanted to give her a warm welcome.”

there was a familiar look in chan’s eyes, one that felix could spot from miles away. one of knowing.

“alright then. i’m glad you were able to earn us a new customer. even if it meant giving up your clothes.”

“do you have any paper?” you interrupted with a mouthful of muffin, “and maybe a pen too?”

felix was thankful that you saved him from chan. “yeah! i’ll get it for you. hold on.”

thirty minutes later, once a spot of sunlight through the clouds had appeared, you were gone.

felix glanced over at your spot, sadness pulling on his heart, full of what if’s.

what if you didn’t come back? what if that was the last time he would see you?

he noticed the piece of paper left behind.

the title read, “felix’s bakery ranking.”

first place was the cookies. second was the brownies. then the chocolate chip muffin, then the blueberry.

“she must love chocolate,” felix jumped at jeongin’s voice from behind him, “she also got a mocha, right?”

“how do you know? you weren’t even here.”

“chan was telling the group chat.”

“he was doing what?” felix reached for the phone in his back pocket to confirm his words.

“talking about how you were mesmerized by that girl.”

“was not!”

“you totally were,” chan patted his back, “i’ve never seen you smile that wide.”

“says a lot for how much he smiles.”

felix groaned as jeongin flipped over the scrap paper.

“see you at 3 tomorrow,” he read out, looking up at felix whose eyes widened, turning to chan.

“i don’t work tomorrow! can i work tomorrow?”

“so it isn’t just you being kind?”

“i need to get my cardigan back.”

“you’re a terrible liar. just admit that you want to see her again.”

“just schedule me to work tomorrow!”

the next day, felix was walking on clouds.

the boy normally walked with a pep in his step, serving customers with a comfortable kindness that nobody else could replicate, but today there was an extra hint of sweetness to everything that he did. even some of the most unobservant customers had pointed it out.

but each of the boys knew exactly why he was acting the way that he was, thanks to the messages that chan had sent.

as the vintage clock on the wall inched closer and closer to 3, felix became more dazed, clumsy even.

“are you sure that he should be working right now?” minho shot chan a questioning look.

“just let him get it out of his system.”

“but we’re cleaning up his spill messes all for a girl that he had one conversation with. he’s hopeless.”

“i don’t even think he’s had a girlfriend before.”

“really?” minho’s eyebrows raised, “with how all of the girls stick to him like glue?”

“i don’t think he knows how much of a heartthrob he is.”

chan glanced towards felix, who was busy chatting with two girls who had stopped by just a few minutes ago, “he’s clueless sometimes.”

the bell on the door rang as you stepped in, blue sweater in hand, eyes darting across the room to find the blonde boy who immediately abandoned his conversation.

“i came to return this,” you slid it across the counter, just as felix had done the previous day, “and get a cookie as well.”

“just the cookie?”

“and a mocha.”

“your total will be—“

“just give it to her for free,” chan whispered from behind, trying to help the frantic boy.

“it’ll be free today,” felix stumbled on his words, “and maybe i could heat the cookies for you too? they’re better warm.”

“that would be great,” you took a seat at the same spot as before, “your customer service is top tier. free service and a cardigan on a rainy day?”

“we try.” felix couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face, or take his eyes off of you.

even when you weren’t paying attention to him, typing on your laptop and munching on a cookie, he would stare at you, just barely hiding behind the espresso machine.

“why don’t you ask for her number?”

felix jumped as yet another barista appeared from behind him— something that had been happening too much recently. or perhaps he was just less focused on his surroundings.

“i can’t do that. what if she rejects me?”

“she would’ve let you down by now, do you know how obvious you’re making it?” hyunjin tried to reason with him.

“i guess that’s true, but i’m nervous. she’s really pretty.”

“so? you’re pretty too.”

felix gave the compliment a light laugh, “but she’s intimidatingly pretty.”

he kept an eye on the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your finger tapping to the rhythm of the café’s record player on the table.

“you’re such a hopeless romantic. just get her number. she’s gonna leave again and you’re gonna be upset that you didn’t.”

“maybe.”

with those words in mind, felix shyly approached you, hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

“hey,” he started, almost chickening out just from your eye contact.

his fingers went to his throat, checking his pulse, “do you think i could get your number?”

when you stared at him in silent shock for a moment, he continued, “not as, like, a weird thing! i just want to be your friend.”

he could see hyunjin out of the corner of his eye, ready to pull out his hair in frustration.

your smile faltered, but you still took the phone from his hand, saving your name as y/n.

“text me later.” there was a hint of sadness in your voice that felix didn’t fail to pick up on, but he didn’t dare to comment on it.

he ran off into the back room, ready to scream over the most embarrassing, disappointing moment in his entire life.

hyunjin followed close behind, “felix! what the hell?”

“i got nervous!”

“so you decided to friend-zone her?”

“she could’ve friend zoned me first!”

“she obviously wasn’t going to!”

“but if she did then i think i’d die!”

hyunjin was close to slamming his head against the nearest wall. “i’m gonna die right now if you don’t walk back out there and tell her that you’ve spent the whole day thinking about how pretty she is!”

“she’ll think i’m weird!”

“then i’ll do it!” felix tried to hold him back but failed as hyunjin opened the door, only to be met with an empty spot where you used to be.

felix let go, his shoulders dropping.

“where is she?”

“i guess she left,” hyunjin turned to see his devastated friend.

“did i fuck up that badly?”

hyunjin bit his lip, trying not to make it worse for him than it already was. but the truth was that, yeah, he did.

“maybe she’ll be back.”

felix texted you that night while he sat in bed, deciding on, “hi it’s felix! :)”

he kept his cardigan next to him.

perhaps it was a little creepy, but he decided to sniff it. it smelled different than usual. perhaps that’s what you smelled like.

perhaps he would never even get to know what you smelled like.

tears brimmed his eyes as he shut off his phone, staring up at the fan on his ceiling, letting the noise drown out the eerie silence.

felix wanted to slap himself for being such an idiot. he had no problem talking to people, he was the most extroverted extrovert that an extrovert could get. but he couldn’t help but question everything he did in front of you, even if he had just met you.

you didn’t respond.

when felix showed up to work the next day, it was like the sunshine was hidden behind a rainy cloud.

he knew that it shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did. he knew that checking to see if he got a text every minute wasn’t normal, or whip his head toward the door every time a customer came in.

so felix spent another night in his bed, phone in hand, staring at the text that he sent.

would it just be easier to forget about you? it’s not like he had anything going with you anyway.

it was only when he set it down for the night and closed his eyes that it began to ring, and he sprang right back up, eyes widening as he stared at the caller ID.

it was minho.

“hello?” felix answered, voice filled with sleep.

“you were upset at work today,” he stated, “is it because of that girl?”

“you could see it?”

“everyone could. like we always do.”

“i’m just gonna try to forget about it.”

“don’t.”

“what do you mean?”

“you have her number, right? come clean, text her that you were nervous. ask to meet up.”

“like a date?”

“exactly. ask her on a date.”

felix chewed on his lip, anxiety clouding his judgment once again. would he have the courage to even do that?

“chan said that you’re not allowed to work until you sort out your sadness. and nobody wants to cover your shifts, man.”

when minho hung up the phone, felix laid back against his pillows, letting out a breath of air that he didn’t know he was holding. then he checked his pulse.

opening your texts, he began typing. ‘i lied. it was something weird. you’re really pretty. you can block me if you want.’

he deleted the message.

‘actually,’

no.

‘i meant to ask for your number in a not-friend-way,’

no.

‘sorry for the other day. i was anxious and said the wrong thing, but i really wanted your number because i think you’re gorgeous. do you want to go out sometime?’

he sent the message and resisted the urge to chuck his phone across the room. instead, he threw it back down onto the bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and squeezing it as hard as he could.

minutes later, felix heard his phone buzz. he scrambled to pick it up.

‘that’s ok. i was a little disappointed, you’re rly cute :)’

it buzzed again.

‘wanna come over tomorrow and watch a movie or something?’

his fingers shook, trying to type back, ‘sounds great! does 5 work?’

you reacted to his text with a thumbs up, and then he was back to squeezing the pillow.

felix didn’t work the next day. instead, he spent the day showering, squealing, spam-texting friends, and preparing for his first-ever date.

when you opened the doorbell, you were met with quite possibly the cutest sight in the entire world.

there felix was, holding a box of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies in his shaky hands. “i baked these for you, kind of as an apology, kind of because i wanted to impress you. and i know you like the cookies.”

you giggled at his honesty, letting him inside as you took the box, “thank you felix, you’re such a sweetheart.”

he checked his pulse.

“sorry for the mess. i tried to clean a little, but i don’t have people over often.”

“it’s okay,” he was quick to reassure you, “my house doesn’t look all that clean either. kind of comes with being a human.”

you laughed, taking a seat on the couch. he followed your actions.

“so, about the whole number thing,” he toyed with the rip on his black jeans.

“i thought you were really really beautiful.”

suddenly, he was way too aware of how close you were to him. but he wouldn’t let himself get nervous again.

“one of my coworkers was telling me to ask for your number and i was nervous and thought that you wouldn’t like me like that.”

felix sighed, “so i ended up saying the wrong thing and giving you the wrong idea.”

when he looked back up, you were smiling, holding in laughter. “that’s honestly adorable.”

“really?”

“i got sad, i thought you were just that kind to everyone and that i was developing some crazy ego thinking that a boy as attractive as you would like me.”

“you think i’m attractive?” his ears were on fire by now, completely stiff as you leaned in to look him in the eyes.

“i don’t understand how you don’t know how attractive you are.”

“what do you mean?”

“do i have to spell it out for you?”

“probably.”

“i think you’re gorgeous.”

“i also think the same about you. you looked so cute eating all happily, and when you smile, it makes me want to kiss you.” he chewed his lip, trying to not regret his bold words.

something tense was in the air, something that made felix’s heart pound a thousand times faster.

“then do it.”

felix froze. was he supposed to tell you that he had never kissed a girl before, much less sat this close to one?

“well, are you going to? or are you getting shy again?”

“i’ve never kissed anyone.” he let his heart thud out of his chest at the confession.

your eyes visibly widened, “you? you haven’t had your first kiss?”

“or held hands with a girl. and i’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“that’s impossible.”

“i don’t know how to prove it.”

“your awkwardness does the job.”

you decided to make a move, “but i can show you how if you’d like.”

felix’s mouth went dry, unsure of what to do or say.

“it’ll come naturally. just let it happen,” you smiled reassuringly as he nodded.

climbing onto his open lap, your hands carded through his blonde hair.

you leaned in to meet his lips briefly, his eyes burning into your own.

it was a soft and gentle kiss, just like him. but his eyes were full of desire for more.

“can i have another?” his hands met your back, pulling you into him.

this time, the kiss lasted longer, so much longer that he began craving more of you, so he did what he saw in all the movies.

he slipped his tongue into your mouth, grinning against your lips in pride at his actions.

felix’s hands traveled to your waist as took your word, letting go of his anxieties and doing what came naturally.

and without even realizing it, he began to take the lead.

all of the feelings were overwhelming. the way that you tugged on his hair, how close your bodies were, the way your tongue felt against his own.

he never wanted to stop.

until his phone began ringing.

you pulled away and he let out a shaky breath, slowly opening his eyes to stare at your features up close.

“felix, your phone,” you reminded him.

he jolted out of the daze, reaching for it.

chan.

he was about to just cancel the call when he saw the spam texts, asking where he was.

with a heavy sigh, he answered with you still on his lap.

“did you make up with y/n?”

“be quiet! i’m with her right now!”

you let out a laugh.

“oh! tell her hi!”

felix hung up on his friend with a groan, turning the ringer off.

“can we go back to kissing again?”

“after he’s done blowing you up,” you pointed at the buzzing phone.

#skz #stray kids #lee felix #lee felix smut #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids blurbs #stray kids imagines #felix fluff #felix imagines #felix #skz fanfiction #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz masterlist #skz stay #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids lee yongbok #lee yongbok #yongbok x y/n #felix x y/n #felix x reader #skz x y/n #stray kids x y/n

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 2

02 : THANK YOU

SUM. : you thank your heroes with home made lunch at their work place, leaving with a temporary tattoo and three men wrapped around your little finger.

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist sirius ; tattoo artist james ; piercer remus ; innocent reader ; all three are smitten with you ; all three also being casually dominant with you ; sweetheart reader x rough tough men is the trope! ; prepare to be as obsessed as i am over these men! ; marauders with tattoos and piercings are hot

LENGTH. : 2.6k

PREV. : 01 | RESCUE

“Well there’s a familiar face,” Remus greets with a smile as you step into the shop. You timidly smile back and wait for him to wave off a customer with their care kit before stepping forward with your heavy tote strung over your shoulder, “do you have an appointment for a tattoo or a piercing?” he asks, eyes trained on the tablet at the front desk. 

“Oh, no no,” you bashfully stammer, “I’m not here for any of that, I’m scared of needles,” 

“That’s a shame,” Remus contemplates and you look up to see him leaning over with a thoughtful look, his elbows on the counter as one hand holds his chin up - he’s so handsome. He has several piercings decorating his ears and an eyebrow piercing to accentuate the angles of his brows. As he moves his chin off his palm to caress it in contemplation, he continues to take you in as you also take the opportunity to admire some of the tattoos on his arms. There are some phrases in different fonts, an impressive vision of a wolf with a full moon and a minimalist set of the moon phases alongside much more, “you’d look good with cute little piercings on your ears,” he finally comments, reaching out to point at your ear. 

“Th-thank you,” you subconsciously reach up and touch your ear, his statement making you briefly consider his suggestion.

“So what are you here for if not for a piercing or tattoo?” straightening up into his full height, Remus lets a light scowl take over his face, “Is that bastard troubling you again?”

“It’s alright, don’t worry, I told my manager and he’s been banned from the pub I work at so I haven’t had anymore bad encounters,” 

Remus smiles at your precious appearance, you really look adorable being all timid in front of him, “I’m glad,” his voice is warm and comforting, different to the roughness brought on by the ink on his arms. He was dressed in a white shirt under a sleeveless brown sweater vest, high-waisted, tailored pants with the bottoms just about reaching his Doc Martens - he’s a good balance of soft but edgy. It’s a unique charm of his, you gather.

“I-I just wanted to say thank you to you guys,” you gesture to your tote bag, “so I made you some lunch, I hope that’s okay…” 

“Free lunch, home cooked by the most beautiful lady I’ve ever seen?” Sirius interrupts, stealing your attention as he appears from a corridor to your left with a boyish grin. He reaches for your hand and brings your knuckles up to his lips for a soft kiss, “what an honour,”

Your cheeks heat up incredibly at the gesture, “it’s really nothing, you guys saved me last night, it’s the least I could do,”

Sirius smiles down at you and after sharing a look with Remus he begins to lead you down the same corridor he had just appeared from, “well, you have the most perfect timing, darling because it’s a slow day and almost our lunch break,”

“I’ll tell James and help him finish up with his last client for the day. We’ll see you in a bit,” Remus announces as he flips the sign at the door to ‘CLOSED’. You wanted to protest and say that you didn’t want to waste too much of their time but the mousy haired piercer smiled and that was enough reassurance for you to hold your tongue. 

“Let’s go love,” Sirius leads you down a corridor to a room with rock posters and varying pieces of art decorating the wall as sofas lined half of the walls with varying aesthetics, one was very much distressed but still cosy looking, as the other was of a sleek, black leather. Thankfully, there was a pretty large coffee table that you could set your tote bag on and slowly began to take out the food you had cooked. On the distressed sofa behind you, Sirius admired your tentative figure and appreciated your stark difference in aesthetic to the room around you. Your style fits close to Remus although more feminine and carefree. There was a cosy structure to Remus’s fashion but with your long flowing white skirt, chiffon blouse and delicate jewellery, you embodied a breath of fresh air under the summer sun, “what a beauty,” Sirius says to himself, arms resting along the back of the sofa as you finally settled down.

Thinking he meant the food in the tupperware, you smile, “you like the food already?”

“I’m talking about you, darling, although the food does look delicious,” Sirius chuckles under his breath as you timidly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Th-thank you but really, I hope you like the food,” 

“I’m sure I will,” silence slowly permeates the space between you as you wait for Remus and James but it was still comfortable, not awkward at all. In that time, you both take in each other’s appearance. Sirius wears a white tank that clings to his toned figure and ends just under his belly button, showcasing a majority of the tattoos that embellish his skin. He’s also in black jeans and a pair of worn combat boots. The tattoos on his arms and those that peak out from his torso and chest don’t have a visible theme but they all still go together somehow. There are many unknown symbols and long winded sentences written decoratively around said symbols and the occasional elaborate illustration. There are some doodles dedicated to music, some to inside jokes you would guess and you want to ask questions but you bite your tongue. You didn’t want to be rude. 

“Curious?” Sirius asks, having noticed your wandering eyes and smiling at your kitten-like interest. 

“A little bit…”

“Ask away,”

When James and Remus finally join the two of you a few minutes later, they see you fully turned towards Sirius on the sofa, eyes focused on a tattoo on his chest that he was explaining the meaning of, catching you in a trance with his voice. The tattoo artist has his tank top moved down and to the side as you absentmindedly reach your hand up to his tattoo, almost tracing the ink on his skin with your delicate fingers. From the grin on Sirius’s face and the love-eyes he was watching your face with, they could tell he was smitten with you, which was rare. Sirius was very much a ladies man but you’ve managed to rope him in with hardly any effort put in. Remus doesn’t blame his friend, though, you’re very captivating. 

The chuckle from both Remus and James pulls your attention away from Sirius who smirks up at them, unbothered by their interruption.  

“I heard a pretty lady was treating us to some home made lunch today,” James eagerly sits down in the space beside you as Remus sits atop the far right of the coffee table. 

“Y-yeah, I hope you like it, please dig in,”

“Don’t mind if I do!” James cheers and promptly consumes his share of food, giving the occasional groan of satisfaction from the taste in his mouth, “Sho good!”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Remus corrects with an amused smile before turning to your with an appreciative grin, “Thank you, truly, (Y/N), I was getting tired of take out,”

“Home cooking is the best,” Sirius groans from your other side, already half way through his share, which makes you giggle in happiness. Your heart swells with joy knowing that you could properly thank your heroes. Speaking off, you finally get to admire James in better lighting than the street lamps. He isn’t nearly as decorated with ink as Sirius but there was a pretty illustration of a stag on his forearm that you admired. You hadn’t wanted to feel awkward so you brought some lunch for you too and ate alongside the trio, stealing secret glances at James who remained oblivious, too engrossed in his food. He’s in much cosier attire compared to Srius and Remus. Hanging from his broad shoulders was an oversized, faded shirt and washed-out jeans with the bottoms rolled up to showcase his high converse shoes. Framing his face was a charming pair of round glasses and, matched with his unruly curls and tattoos, made him a pictured balance of casual and wild that suits only him.

Lunch passes and James was the first to finish between the trio, quickly proceeding to pull puppy eyes at his two friends in a soft plea for them to surrender some of their food to him but they firmly decline. 

“I’m not letting you have some of my lunch just because you finished yours too quickly,” Sirius huffs, pulling his tupperware closer to him. 

“Sorry Prongs,” Remus laughs, “those puppy eyes aren’t going to work on me, our dove’s cooking is too good to share,”

Unable to resist James’s pouting face, you hold up a spoonful of your meal, “it’s okay James,” you bring your spare hand to sit under the spoon and move it to James’s lips, “here, say ‘ahh’,”   

With a boyish, golden-boy grin, James happily accepts the mouthful and moans in happiness, chewing away like a happy squirrel. Enjoying his glee so much, you happily feed him the rest of your lunch, saying that you were already far too full to eat any more so that Remus and Sirius didn’t scold James too much. It was partially true though because seeing James eating was enough to make you feel full already. 

Once done, you set aside the tupperware and was completely unprepared for when James kissed your cheek as thanks for feeding him the rest of your lunch, “you’re too kind, angel, thank you,” he whispers into your ear, his breath brushing against your sensitive skin and sending a shiver down your spine. You could only muster a timid nod in response. 

When lunch ended, casual conversations started which slowly divulged into the boys wanting to give you a temporary tattoo as thanks. You wanted to protest the redundancy of their actions but were quickly convinced by the verbal pleas of Sirius and James as Remus simply stared at you with interested eyes.

“What tattoo would you like, doll?” Sirius asks, smiling at your pondering face. You're far too cute for your own good.

“Surprise me!” you finally chirp, missing the roguish grin the three men share. 

Not too long after, you were brought into a room with a computer connected to a specialised printer against one wall of the room. Remus and Sirius immediately move to prepare the temporary tattoo on the screen and set up the printer while James leads you to the tattoo bed in the middle of the room. 

“This can fold into a chair but that’s a bit of a hassle right now, do you mind sitting on the bed instead?” James asks as you shake your head and reassure that it’s alright. He loves how compliant you are and watches for a moment as you struggle to get on the high bed before offering assistance, “May I?” his hands hesitates just before they reach your figure but you pay his touch no mind and nod, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders as he secures his hold on your waist. With a small countdown, James lifts you onto the tattoo table with hardly any effort. 

Shuffling back, you smile up at James who remains taller than you on the table as he stands between your thighs, “Thank you, James,” the tattoo artist smiles when you say his name but frowns at the distance you’re sitting at the table. 

“No worries sweetheart but you we need you a little closer than that,” without another word, James grips your thighs with his large hands and pulls you with some force to sit closer to the edge of the table, which also pulls a surprised squeal from your lips, “sorry sorry,” James chuckles softly his hands still on your thighs and shudders at your proximity when he looks down to see your skirt bundled up, accentuating how close your hips were to his. Stepping away, James tidies up your skirt as you giggle and thank him once more for his assistance. He smiles at you before being called over to the computer, trading places with Sirius. 

“Where would you like your temporary tattoo, love?” he asks gently, opening a packet of sanitising wipes as the sound of the printer starts and whirrs in the background. 

“Hmmm…even though it’s temporary I want it to be easily hidden,”

“Such a shy princess aren’t you?” Sirius comments with a smile, “it’s so cute,”

Ignoring his comment, you rush to think of the perfect place for the tattoo and distract from your racing heart, “how about here?” you point to your chest, just above your breasts and below your collarbone. Sirius immediately recognises the placement and raises an amused brow. 

“Like my tattoo?”

You timidly smile, “yes please,”

“Very good choice,” Sirius praises playfully as pride swells within his chest, “but we need to get to that spot first, love,” you look down at your blouse and curse under your breath. 

“Umm…” you try to pull down the collar but it was a small cut and the fabric resists. The temporary tattoo finishes printing and Remus approaches the table with James to see you struggling with your blouse.

“Where does she want it?” James asks as Remus carefully holds the small tattoo. 

“Where mine was,” Sirius points to just below his collar bone, “but her blouse is in the way,”

Remus nods and approaches you, “that blouse is going to have to come off, dove,” his brown eyes watches you gnaw at your lip, it’s a hesitance he’s familiar with so he knows what to do, “don’t worry, you have nothing to be scared of, okay?” he gives you a warm smile when you look up at him and soon feel assured enough to untuck your blouse and pull it over your head, “good girl,” he praises with the same soft tone. You feel silly, these men give tattoos and pierce people’s skin, you’re sure that they’ve seen plenty of shirtless women in only their bras. Remus especially…he’s an expert piercer and has probably been asked to pierce lady parts that weren’t…very common.

“I’ve got to prepare your skin, love,” Sirius holds up the wipe and once you confirm exactly where you wanted the tattoo again, he wipes the area clean. Your skin is soft and slightly bouncy as it leads down to your breasts that makes the tattoo artist wipe at your skin a little longer than normal. After Sirius finishes prepping your skin and letting it dry, Remus steps up and applies the tattoo as best as he can without wrinkles. He swipes over the tattoo with his fingers and smiles at the handiwork. Beside him, Sirius and James admire the temporary ink, all three internally screaming at what you had let them ink you with.   

“Wait a full hour before you peel off the applicator,” Remus gently instructs, “and try to avoid sweating or showering for the next 6 hours okay?” you nod and Remus pats your head in approval with a contented hum. You put your blouse back on and let James help you down, laughing brightly when he raises you up high and spins you in the air before he finally sets you down, laughing alongside you. 

The boys still have a business to run so you collect your empty tupperware and wave the three goodbye before hurrying home, excited to see what tattoo they had given you as they were adamant at keeping it a surprise from you. When you finally arrived home and got a hold of a mirror, you examined the tattoo with your blouse off and felt your cheeks gradually heat up as you trace the differing fonts of the three names decorating the space beneath your collarbone. 

Their names in their handwriting. James, Sirius, Remus.

NEXT : 03 | GROCERIES

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS SERIES

A/N : i'm becoming more and more obsessed with this au - i couldn't stop writing! if i'm going down, im bringing your darlings with me! no survivors allowed! maybe i'll make a part 3? i don't know yet. again, i've added additional tags of the people who have expressed interest in more parts for the timestamp. tell me your thoughts, lovelies!

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins ; @astonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @goodoldfashionedluvergirl ; @tiensmamains ; @manical-heaven ; @ch3rry-pops ; @unholyhuntress ; @animeluvr99 ; @peppers-library ; @thepowerthismanhasoverme ; @buck-fics ; @bohemian-lavender-girl

#james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #marauders #marauders fic #sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius x reader #remus lupin #james potter #james potter x you #☆ : timestamp #𐂂 : timestamp #☽ : timestamp

[thewritingofamadwoman]

That’s My Girl

Another attempt at writing Roy Kent. Inspired by the amazingly sweet @onceuponaoneshotfanfic

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Tons of fluff, more of Roy Kent’s potty mouth, a secret relationship and Jamie Tartt being the reader and Roy’s unofficial child.

Enjoy!!

The second the words “no curfew tonight” came out of Ted Lasso’s mouth, you just knew the evening was going to be a fun one. Both you and Roy had agreed on the way to Amsterdam that you’d both spend the last night together, sightseeing and then staying in bed for hours while everyone else was none the wiser.

As the team’s co-pr manager, it was imperative that you tagged along on the trip for business reasons; Rebecca also told you if you didn’t come along and enjoy yourself she’d purposely make your life hell. So here you are, on the charter bus with the rest of your friends. You looked down at your phone, the time reading 5pm. Roy suggested meeting up at around 9pm, when everyone else was surely going to be in their rooms. It was the perfect plan…which meant it probably wasn’t going to happen.

You looked over at Roy, who gave you a sly wink before getting up and roaring at Jamie Tartt.

“Not for you Tartt!”

Your beloved got up and grabbed Jamie’s bag, tossing it to Will before storming outside. Jamie, depressed that he’d be spending the rest of his time in Amsterdam training, got up from his seat reluctantly. Before heading out, he stretched and looked back, noticing you seated in the back. As if having a moment of clarity, his brain immediately came up with what he thought was an ingenious plan. He called your name and once you looked up at him, he put his plan into action.

“Hey love, do you have any plans right now?” He smiled, everyone else on the bus discussing their potential curfew free plans.

“Not really, I was gonna head back to my room and nap for a bit I guess. Why?”

Jamie’s smile widened.

“Nahhh a gorgeous girl like you alone in a hotel room? Not happening. Come on, hang out with me and grandad for a bit.”

You laughed, and so did some of the players listening in.

“Fuck it, why not?” You said, and the bus is filled with loud cheers once more as you made your way towards Jamie, who took your hand and pulled you out of the bus with him. The first thing you saw was Roy’s back to the bus as he stretched his legs.

“Took you fucking long enou-what are you doing here?” Roy asked, his face full of genuine surprise. You shrugged and pointed to Jamie who smiled like the cat who caught the canary.

“This stunner was going to go back to the hotel alone and take a nap. In one of the worlds’ most beautiful cities. I couldn’t let that happen. And who better to keep her company than us fine, young gentleman. Well, some of us more young than others, isn’t that right grandad?”

Roy gave Jamie a deadpan expression and growled lowly. You shook your head and chuckled.

“I hope that’s alright? You don’t mind do you, Roy?” You gave the poor man one of your sweetest smiles, one that Roy had fallen in love with over the course of the last few months. Roy sighed and eventually nodded, the thoughts of the night he had planned for the two of you going down the drain. Jamie cheered and punched Roy’s shoulder, jogging backwards with his hands in the air.

“Come on Roy! Lighten up! Here, I’ll run ahead while you two trail behind me. Can’t have gorgeous here run in those heels. Fantastic heels by the way,” Jamie said as he ran his gaze from your heels to your face, winking as he reached your eyes. The striker was doing his absolute best to get Roy to react to him flirting with you. He knew the coach had feelings for you, it was painstakingly obvious. But he doubted the man would ever make a move. So his “genius plan” was to spend the evening turning on the signature Tartt charm as much as he could until Roy had no choice but to confess his love for you. The perfect plan, Jamie thought to himself.

You blushed at the compliment and laughed , shocked that he was flirting so boldly with you in front of your boyfriend. Not that he knew you two were an item, but still. Roy, on the other hand, was glaring so hard at Jamie that it was a surprise the young man hadn’t combusted into flame. Jamie gave you both a very cheeky smile, turned around, and began to run.

“Come on, grandad! Keep up!”

Roy growled and you laughed once more, causing the older man to look at you.

“And what are you laughing at?” Roy grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as you two began to walk, keeping Jamie in your sights as he ran up ahead.

“At how easy it is for Jamie Tartt to get you riled up. He’s only being silly, don’t let it bother you,” you smiled, reaching over and placing a hand on Roy’s arm.

“And besides, we did want to sightsee, and now we get to do that earlier than planned,” you added, looking around at the beautiful city around you. Roy scoffed and looked back at you.

“Yeah, I wanted us to sightsee without Jamie Fucking Tartt running around like a child we need to keep on a leash.” You giggled and Roy’s lip ticked upwards, the sound of your laugh being one of his favorite things.

“I don’t know babe, this might be a glimpse into our future,” you teased sweetly, looking at Roy playfully. Once again, Roy snorted and turned to look at you.

“Please, our children will be way more behaved than that twat.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about our future children hmm?” Your heart soared at the thought of Roy seeing a future with you. Roy looked at you dumbfounded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course. Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

Your heart melted, and you were about to reply when Jamie suddenly appeared from behind the both of you, squeezing himself in between you and wrapping an arm around each of your shoulders.

“Look at you two, looking all chummy. And look at this magnificent city! Have either of you seen the tulip gardens? Or the windmills? We’re actually coming up to the world famous Skinny Bridge, just up ahead. Did you know that it’s one of the most romantic places in the world? Legend says that a kiss between lovers while on this bridge ensures that they will be in love forever. Isn’t that LOVELY, Roy?”

Jamie had pulled you both close to him, and thus each other as he continued to spit fact after fact about the romantic connotations of the bridge. Roy looked murderous, annoyed at Jamie’s incessant chatter. Roy had originally planned to take you to the bridge later that night to share that very same fact. He was a romantic at heart, and you were one of the very few people to know that about the mysterious Roy Kent. He was also a man with a VERY short fuse.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he growled, and the striker stepped forward from between the two of you and turned around, running in place while he faced you.

“I think it’s lovely, Jamie,” you said, trying to defuse any tension and placate the young man. Jamie beamed at you.

“I thought you would. I bet even someone as tough and grumpy as Roy believes in true love, don’t you Coach?” Jamie began his jumping jacks while looking at Roy, who only grunted in response. The Mancunian then pulled out his phone and handed it to Roy.

“Come on Coach, take a few pictures of the two of us and I’ll take a few of you two as well!” He said enthusiastically as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him towards the bridge. After a few photos with you, Jamie suggested he take a few photos of you alone on the bridge. You agreed, posing and laughing, causing both men to smile as they watched you. Roy even let out a laugh as you posed dramatically on the railing of the bridge. As you continued to look out onto the water, Jamie nudged Roy.

“Look at her, mate. She’s fucking stunning. Do you think she’s seeing anyone? I mean, any man would be a fool not to snatch her up and never let her go. I mean, look at her,” Jamie nodded towards you as you were being approached by another young couple who asked you to take their photo. Roy watched as you smiled politely and took a few pictures of the couple, watching you light up as they loved the pictures and thanked you. Jamie watched Roy’s expression, seeing how the man let down his guard as he looked at you. Jamie nudged him again.

“Go on mate, don’t let someone else come along and steal her away. Don’t let another man have the opportunity to stare at that bum. I mean LOOK at that ass-“ Jamie was cut off from his sweet-turned-idiotic ramble by Roy advancing on him.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Tartt,” but before Roy’s fist could collide with his face, Jamie called your name, catching your attention.

“Would you like some pictures with Coach Kent? I’m sure he’d love to take some with you!”

Jamie watched as Roy glared at him before walking over to you to stand next to you almost begrudgingly.

“What, don’t want to take a picture with me?” You teased him and he gave you a look.

“Don’t start, you know that’s not true.”

“Come on now guys, you’re on a romantic bridge. How about you pretend to, you know, be in love or something. Like a couple. Pose couple-y. Go on.”

You and Roy looked at one another, before you decided to just play along. You stood close to Roy and placed a hand on his chest, stepping closer than you usually would when you weren’t alone together. As if running on autopilot, the second you stood close to him, Roy’s arm snaked around your waist. Jamie whistled and Roy glared even harder than before. You could tell Jamie was starting to get to him.

“Just take the photo please, Jamie.” You pleaded with a small smile. You had a sneaking suspicion that Jamie knew what he was doing but didn’t want to think of that yet, choosing to focus on the smell of Roy’s cologne and the feel of his warmth against you. After a few pictures, Jamie decided to start up on his training again and began skipping forward.

After a few more stops at historic landmarks and a few more ridiculous flirtatious comments and innuendos from Jamie, you paused for a moment of respite by a chip shop. Jamie went in to use the bathroom when you turned to Roy, who was fuming.

“I’m going to fucking kill him. If he talks about windmills ONE more time, I’m going to throw him over the fucking bridge!” You giggled at his anger and tried to soothe him, placing a hand on one of Roy’s arms.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m pretty sure Jamie is either on to us or really wants to play match maker,” you admitted and Roy grunted.

“Yeah I know, he’s a smooth as a bull in a china shop. Phoebe would have been more subtle than him,” You let out a laugh and nodded and Roy continued. “I have half a mind to give in and tell him. But watching him think he’s failing at getting us together truly gives my soul the peace it needs.”

You laughed harder and Jamie finally made his way back with an order of chips in one hand and a tulip in the other. He walked up to you and handed you both.

“Crisp chips and a flower for the lovely lady. Coach maybe you should take notes, this is how you treat a beautiful woman,” Jamie preened and you could see Roy’s resolve begin crumble. Jamie was going to leave Amsterdam with a black eye if he didn’t stop pushing Roy’s buttons. You decided you had enough and made your move.

“I don’t think Roy needs any tips on how to treat a woman, Jamie. He makes sure I’m nice and satisfied at least twice every morning before even heading off to work. Now, if you’re done teasing him: yes we’re together, no, no one knows except for you and we’d like to keep it that way please, and thank you for the chips. Shall we continue?”

You didn’t wait for Jamie or Roy to reply before stepping forward and making your way down the cobblestone street, popping a warm chip into your mouth and twirling the tulip in your hand. Roy’s eyes followed you, full of pride and love, impressed at how you handled the situation. Jamie, however, looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing before finding words.

“You fucking cunts, you’ve been together this entire time?? For how long?? I’ve been trying to get you to admit you like her for HOURS!”

Roy gave a smug, satisfied smile.

“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but today marks six months. And I had fucking dinner plans tonight but you and your fucking windmills ruined it.”

Jamie was still gaping, staring back and forth between your retreating figure and Roy’s smug face.

“Six fucking months?! Roy Kent, you absolute legend. She’s wonderful, I’m happy for you Coach.”

Roy smiled and for a split second, he could see himself becoming closer friends with the team striker.

“Oi!”

Your voice brought both Jamie and Roy’s attention back to you.

“Are you two coming or not? I was promised windmills and I want to see windmills!”

You smiled at your boys, one hand holding your flower and chips and the other hand on your hip as you waited for them to come to you.

“That’s your girl, mate.” Jamie teased as he looked at the taller man. Roy smirked, a genuine smile before nodding his head.

“That’s my girl.”

And with that, both men caught up with you. You passed the chips to Jamie before hooking your arm with Roy’s, the three of you making your way to wherever the windmill hunt took you.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #Roy Kent fanfic #Roy Kent x fem!reader #Roy Kent oneshot #Roy Kent x reader insert #Roy Kent imagine

[joedirtymadre]

Hello 😊 I hope you are having a great day! I would like to request a fluffy Luffy x y/n story please!

The Potion

LUFFY X READER! FLUFF! (PLEASE SEND MORE REQUESTS! PLEASEE 🦫)

“Where is he?” You asked yourself as you continued exploring the new island. You were currently looking for your idiot captain, but adorable boyfriend. Nami thought it was a good idea to stop by an island to restock on some supplies. Nami only planned for a day stop, but Luffy still hasn’t returned… So a part of being his girlfriend is to find and drag him back to the ship. You groaned, “I can’t believe he just ditched me on the ship, why didn’t he ask if I wanted to tag along? Aren’t we dating?”

While walking down the main plaza, you turned and noticed a familiar dark haired man, with the very familiar straw hat on his head. “Luffy!” You called out as you ran over. He quickly turned and grinned once noticing you. “Yo (Y/N)! You found me!” He waved excitedly. “You idiot! I spent the last hour looking for you! How dare you ditch me?” You asked angrily as you smacked his head.

“I’m sorry…” he pouted. “It’s alright, I’m glad I finally found you. So, what have you been up to?” You asked as you rubbed the spot you hit. “Just running around, but I stopped to talk to this granny,” he said, motioning towards the older woman sitting at the stand.

“Oh hello,” you smiled, and the woman smiled back. “Hi sweetheart,” she said. You looked at her stand, and realized that it was simply a table with a crystal ball in the middle, with a small stand with different colored bottles. You noticed one particular bottle that caught your eye, it was a beautiful shade of deep purple. “Would you like one deary?” The woman asked. “Ummm… well what are they?” You asked. “Potions!” She smiled. “Potions? “Really?” You asked suspiciously. “Well of course, I spent years trying to perfect each potion. Which one would you like?” She asked.

“Hmm… Well, what does each one do?” You asked curiously, eyeing each bottle. “Can one of them make me super strong? Or shapeshift? Or fly?” Luffy asked excitedly. “No, my potions don’t do that. They’re small potions, but trust me… they work,” she said. “I see, but what does each potion do?” You asked again. “Ahh… that all depends on you. My potions create whatever you heart desires,” she explains.

“Whatever my heart desires?” You questioned. “So that means I can fly!” Luffy said with stars in his eyes. “Perhaps, if your heart truly desires to fly,” the woman sighed. “Oh wow! Now we have to get one (Y/an)! Just imagine me, like a superhero, or a bird,” he grinned. You laughed at his reaction, “I guess I’ll take two,” you said.

“Only 1 per each group,” the woman said. “Huh?” Luffy pouted. “Well, I can’t have everyone getting their deep desires granted. Plus there are potions that take decades to create, my inventory would disappear if I didn’t limit purchases,” she explained. “I guess that makes sense,” you said. “Well which one sweetheart, I saw that the purple one caught your eye,” she said. “Yeah, it’s a pretty color,” you said softly. “I’ll take this one then,” you said. “Good choice, and remember all potions last for 24 hours,” she said as she took the berries from my hand and placed the bottle in it.

“Wow, a potion! Let’s drink it!” Luffy said. “No sharing, the potion won’t work if two people drink it,” the woman quickly explained. “Awe man…” he pouted. “If you want it, you can have it,” you smiled. “Seriously? Tha-“ Luffy was cut off. “Only the person that I gave the bottle to can drink it, for others it won’t work,” the woman said as she winked at me. “O-Oh… well that sucks,” Luffy frowned. “Sorry Luffy,” you said. “It’s fine, just means I’ll have to keep an eye on you. See if anything changes,” he laughed. You nodded and you both headed back to the ship.

“Drink it, drink it!” Luffy chanted. “Alright, but if I do can we go walk around some of the shops? I really wanted-“ you were interrupted. “That sounds boring…” he whined. “O-Oh… uhh, well alright. I guess we can do something else after,” you sighed. “Oo let’s go find another witch, maybe then I can get a potion!” He said excitedly, as he headed back to the plaza. “You go ahead, I’ll meet you there,” you said softly. “K!” He shouted as he raced off.

You let out a deep sigh, and walked over to an empty bench. “When’s the last time we’ve done anything I wanted to do? Or the last time we’ve done regular couple stuff?” You asked yourself as you leaned back into the bench.

“Hey! The woman said that this’ll grant my deepest desires! Maybe it’ll help Luffy be romantic again, like when we first started dating!” You said excitedly, as you opened your bag and pulled out the bottle. You stared suspiciously at it before you opened the lid. It made a hissing sound as you slowly opened the lid.

You shrugged it off and chugged it in one swoop. “Ugh… it tastes terrible,” you said in disgust. “If anything, at least Chopper can cure food poisoning or… regular poisoning,” you said.

All of a sudden you felt a nauseous wave rush through you. “I think I’m gonna pass-“ you immediately knocked out.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)! Wake up, please!” You felt yourself being shaken. You slowly opened your eyes, and saw Luffy cradling you. “Luffy?” You asked as your eyes adjusted to the light. “Yeah it’s me, are you ok? I found you passed out on the bench,” he said, worriedly. “I-I’m fine,” you said as you tried to get up but slowly fell back. “Be careful, here I’ll carry you,” he said as he picked you up bridal style.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “You’re carrying me?” Yo I asked, surprised. “Well, why wouldn’t I carry you? You’re my girl,” he smiled. You felt your face heat up even more, and nuzzled your head into his chest. Just enjoying the moment.

You were finally able to stand, so after a few words of trying to convince Luffy that you can walk he finally let you down. As you were walking, you realized you were back at the main plaza. You suddenly felt someone reach out for your hand, you looked over and saw Luffy holding your hand. “I wanted to hold hands,” he smiled. “Ok!” You grinned. “Look, isn’t that the store you want to go to earlier?” He asked, as he pointed at a jewelry store. “Yeah… but it’s fine you said it was boring, let’s do something else,” you suggested.

“What? No way! Come on, you said you wanted to go so let’s go!” He smiled and dragged me to the shop. My eyes widened, there’s no way that her potion actually worked! You both spent the day like a normal couple, walking around being lovey dovey. Going to eat, exploring some cute store you found, and just enjoying each other’s company.

Now you were both at the main plaza’s water fountain. Just enjoying the sunset. “Man, I had an awesome day Luffy,” you smiled. “Me too, I’m glad you desired this,” he said, strangely. “Desired? Why’d you say it like-“ you were interrupted.

“(Y/N)?” You heard a family voice call out. You quickly snapped your head towards the voice and saw, “Luffy?” You stared in shock as he walked up to you. “L-Luffy? B-But I don’t- how- why?” You grabbed your head, not sure what the hell is going on. “(Y/N) who is that guy?” Luffy asked. “I’m Luffy, the better Luffy,” the other one said.

“The better Luffy? You’re just an imposter!” He yelled. You stared in disbelief, unsure what to do or say. “Not in (Y/N)’s eyes. That’s why she wished for me,” the other said, getting close to the other Luffy's face. “Wished for you? I-Is that true (Y/N)? Did you wish for him?” Luffy asked as he turned towards you.

You were speechless, you tried to explain yourself but nothing would come out. “Of course she did, she wanted that old spark we used to have. She hated how you treated her like a regular crew mate, how you would ditch her, ignore her wants or feelings, and just take her love for granted,” the other one said. “T-That’s now true, I love (Y/N)! You don’t know anything about us,” Luffy shouted.

“But it is, why else would she wish to do regular couple stuff with you? Because you never took the time to do it, that’s probably why she thinks you don’t love her anymore,” the other one explained. “Is this true (Y/N)? Do you really think I don’t love you?” He asked softly. “No, I-I… all I think is that you don't treat me the way you used to when we first started dating. Why?” You asked tearfully.

“I-I don't know, I guess I didn't realize it… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. I promise!” he said as he reached out for me. However, you felt a different pair of arms wrap around you from behind. They pulled you into a close hug, you looked to see the other Luffy who was holding you. “What makes you think that she’ll still want to be with you? After the amazing day we had? I carried her, held her hand, followed her to some nice shops, and ate nice food. We both know you wouldn’t have done that,” he said as he tightened his grip.

“Shut up! (Y/N), please believe me! I’m sorry, I do want to be with you. I love whenever you smile, when you smack me around whenever I’m acting dumb, when you rub and take care of me whenever I’m feeling down. I see now that I should’ve done the same for you, but please… Please let me try again, I won’t make you wish for a better me again,” he pleaded. “Oh Luffy,” you said softly. You quickly pulled yourself out of the other Luffy’s arms and leapt onto your Luffy. “(Y/N)!” He said, holding onto you tight.

“I’m sorry, this will never happen again. I swear,” he said with a light tremble in his voice. “I know,” you said as you pulled him into a kiss. This kiss almost made your legs give out, but luckily Luffy was keeping you steady.

“Hmm… it’s not 24 hours, but I guess my job here is done,” the other Luffy said. “Huh?” You asked as you turned your head. “Yep! I granted your deepest desire, to have your Luffy treat you like before,” he smiled, and you noticed his body began glowing. “But before I go,” the other Luffy said and ran over to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Hey!” Your Luffy shouted, pulling you back into his arms. “Take care of her, she deserves it,” the other Luffy said before disappearing.

Once the other Luffy was gone, you were quickly turned around. You felt a million kisses placed on the cheek the other Luffy kissed. “L-Luffy?” You blushed. “Good, now that fake’s kiss is erased,” he huffed. You laughed and pulled him into another kiss, happy to have your boyfriend back. I guess that woman is a real witch after all.

#anime fanfic #fanfic #fluff #x reader #anime #one piece fluff #one piece x y/n #one piece #monkey d luffy fluff #luffy x you #luffy fluff #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #mugiwara no luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece strawhats #straw hats x reader #straw hat pirates #monkey d luffy #one piece fanfiction #one piece oneshots

[ghuleh-witch]

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Mature Warnings: Dry humping, blood and blood-drinking Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia/Dracopia x GN Reader Characters: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia/Dracopia, GN Reader Additional Tags: Coming in pants, no beta Chapter Word Count: 1360 Summary: You allow Copia to bite you for the first time. Author's Note: I tried to keep this as gender-neutral as possible. Please let me know if I missed anything. AO3

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

You look up into his mismatched eyes surrounded by coal black paint. Even in the dim candle-lit room, you could see the tenderness his eyes held. It caused your heart to melt into a puddle inside your chest. Despite being a predator of the night, Copia was too sweet for his own good at times. 

“You won’t,” you responded. “I trust you. I know you won’t do anything to hurt me. I want to do this for you.” A few days have gone by since Copia last fed, and from what he told you, he only got his hands on some pig’s blood that was supposed to be used in a ritual Terzo was planning. “I’ll replace it before he knows it’s missing,” he told you. The Siblings trained to be donors for the vampires in the ministry were either scheduled off or busy with others, leaving Copia to either hunt for animal blood or find another willing donor. 

And you wanted to play the part of willing donor.

“Let me do this for you,” you said, cupping his cheek and bringing his gaze to yours. You could see how tired he was. The hunger was there just floating under the surface. He looked ready to snap at any given moment, but you weren’t afraid.

Copia sighed, and his hand came to rest over the one you held to his cheek. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to your palm. “Are you sure, amore ?” He asked.

You nod. “Very sure.”

He looked unconvinced, his frown lines deepening. “It will hurt at first. You will feel like your skin is on fire…”

“I trust you. And besides, I know that feeling goes away. You told me yourself.”

“Eh, si , I did. The pain fades and you’ll become calm and pleasure.” You could have sworn there was a tinge of pink in his cheeks when he said that. 

“Well, we’ll just have to see where that takes us,” you replied with a hint of a smirk. “So, let’s do this. How do you usually do this with the donors?”

“They sit next to me and give me their wrist,” Copia said. “But they are trained and used to the pain the bite brings. You are not. It would be best if you sat in my lap so I can hold onto you so you don’t fall over.” 

You straddle his lap as he sits on the sofa. “Like this?” You all but purr.

“Hmmm, si ,” Copia responded, his hands came to rest on your hips. “And then I’ll take your wrist and bite into the vein.” His hand came to lift one of your hands and his lips ghosted a kiss over your knuckles.

“Why not drink from my neck?” You suggested. You remembered him telling you how drinking from the neck was very intimate and intense. You craved to know what it felt like; to be held so close on the edge of life and death. 

“I—I shouldn’t,” Copia stammered, his eyes glued to your neck, just below your jaw where your pulse thudded. “Not for your first time.”

“I want to,” you responded quickly. “I want to feel it all.” 

Copia’s eyes slipped closed as a sigh escaped his lips. He was silent for a second, probably debating whether to give in to your request. You could see the battle he was warring with himself. After a moment his eyes opened and looked into yours. His hand came to cup your check as he nodded. “Alright, amore , but you must tell me if you feel lightheaded or sick. I cannot live with myself if I hurt you.”

“I promise,” you pledged. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

“Well, we’re trying to avoid that last bit, eh?” Copia said, his lips coming to yours in a gentle kiss. “I’m going to kiss you for a bit and then I’ll bite.” 

You nodded. “Okay, I’m ready.”

His lips were on yours once more as his hands tightened around your waist, holding you close. The kiss started chaste and soft and quickly deepened. You could feel his cock harden beneath the laces of his pants. You gasped as his lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw, stopping to nip your earlobe, before continuing the path down your neck.

“Copia,” you moaned breathily as you felt his fangs graze the delicate skin over your jugular.

“Try to be still for this part. I don’t want to make it worse,” he murmured against your skin.

It felt like a pinch at first, and you wondered what the big deal was. It didn’t hurt. You spoke too soon though because then it felt like lava was flooding your veins as his fangs sank deeper into your neck. You let out a pained whimper as you tried to pull away, but his arms held you steadfastly in place. Something that sounded like a muffled apology came from Copia as the hot pain flooded your entire body. Tears sprang to your eyes and for a moment you really thought you might die.

Then just like Copia said, a calm fell over you and the pain began to ebb away. Endorphins surged through your bloodstream and you became lost in the feeling of peace and pleasure. “Oh,” you breathed as your fingers curled into the black fabric of his shirt. You could have sworn you felt Copia smile against your neck as warm rivulets of blood trickled down your skin.

“Feels nice now,” you said, rolling your hips against him without even realizing it.

That is until he groaned.

You were fully aware of the hard bulge beneath you; fully aware that he was just as aroused as you. Unable to help yourself, you rolled your hips again, grinding down against him causing you both to groan. Pleasure filled you as the friction of your jeans rubbed against you just right. “Fuck, Copia,” you moaned as his hands slipped from your hips, into the waistband of your pants, and to your ass. He squeezed your ass and pulled you impossibly closer. He wanted you to keep going and you had no intention of stopping. Your fingers grip his shirt so tight that your knuckles turn white as you grind against him, pushing yourself to your peak. You felt the coil in your lower abdomen grow tighter and tighter before suddenly it snapped. “Oh, fuck,” you panted. Dizziness caused your head to swim as you came, Copia's name fell from your lips in breathy moans. You felt his cock kick beneath the layers of clothes separating you and you smirked knowing he came as well.

His head fell back from your neck as he looked into your face with half-lidded eyes. His pupils were blown and crimson stained his lips and chin. With a quick swipe of his tongue, he cleaned his bloodied lips. His eyes fell closed as he savored the flavor.

“Amore,” he panted as his hands gripped you tight to him. “You are absolutely delicious. And I don’t mean just your blood.” His eyes opened and looked over your face, searching for any signs of distress or discomfort. “How do you feel? Did I take too much?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “A little dizzy, but that could be from how hard I came.” 

He frowned. “Maybe I did take too much.”

“Copia, I’m fine. It’s nothing a juice box and a cookie couldn’t fix,” you said, cupping his cheek as your thumb stroked over his paintless skin. “I promise I’m okay.”

That seemed to satisfy him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, eh? You got blood all down your neck and shoulder.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the spot he bit. The sensitivity of the wound made you wince. He pulled back and gave you an apologetic smile. “It’ll be a little uncomfortable for a day, but I have a balm we can put on it and it’ll heal right up.” He adjusted his grip and stood, carrying you to the bathroom. You knew after tonight, you’d always be his willing donor. 

#ghost #the band ghost #papa emeritus iv #copia #cardinal copia #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus fanfic #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #gn reader #dracopia x reader #dracopia #my fanfic #copia x reader

[joelsgreys]

We love a writing prompt challenge - I'd love to see what you do with post!outbreak Joel and ❛ what if i hurt you? ❜

smut prompt challenge

Thank you so much for sending this one in to me my darling! <3 I decided to be a little adventurous with this one, I hope you like it. Also, it turned out to be a longer than I meant to, it was supposed to just be a blurb/short drabble and it turned into a 3k oneshot. Whoopsie. I am not at the point where I can write smut with no plot, I have to have at least a teensy bit of plot lmao.

pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

warnings/tags: 18+ only, minors dni. explicit. post outbreak, set in Jackson. established relationship. jealous/possessive/slightly intoxicated Joel. reader is just a lil bit toxic too. rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, bit of spanking, praise and pet names. very lightly implied age gap (reader is referred to as kid by an older side character but she’s in her mid to late 20s, Joel is canon age, mid 50’s; purely self indulgent with the age thing tbh) okay, I think I got it all.

word count: 3k

“Alright kid, I’m heading out for the night,” Seth announced, flipping off all of the lights inside of The Tipsy Bison. He made sure to leave one last dim yellow light on for you so that you could finish cleaning up around the bar. He tossed you a set of keys to the building from where he stood near the front door. As he shrugged into his blue denim jacket, he asked you one last time, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay locking up the place all on your own at this hour?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You walked over towards him, twirling the set of keys between your fingers. “Oh please. What could possibly happen to me in a secured, gated community where everybody knows everybody, Seth?” You questioned him, shaking your head slightly. “And besides, it’s not like we’ve got a register full of cash just waiting to be robbed. It’s the end of the world, so I think I’ll be just fine closing up shop.”

“Well, you got me there,” he sniffed. “I suppose I don’t have anything to worry about.” He paused, lowering his voice as he added, “And much less when you have your very own guard dog sitting over there and keeping his watchful eye on you.”

You glanced over your shoulder at Joel. He was sitting at the opposite end of the long bar nursing what had to be his third or fourth glass of barrel aged bourbon; even after all the shit you two had been through together over the last several months while making the dangerous and violent trek across the country, Joel had never, not once, behaved like this with you. He had never been this ridiculously overprotective of you, not until you’d begun working as one of the evening bartenders at The Tipsy Bison. He wasn’t all too fond of your new role in Jackson, and he’d made it abundantly clear by dropping in late at night to make sure the rowdier male patrons who would frequent the bar after evening patrol were behaving, keeping their hands to themselves—and off of his girl.

You turned back to Seth, flashing him a sheepish, apologetic smile. “Look, I know he can be kind of rough around the edges sometimes. But he’s not all that bad, you know?”

“Kind of rough around the edges? One look from Miller can send anyone running for their lives in the other fucking direction,” he remarked with an amused snort as he pushed the door open. “Be sure to turn off that last light before you leave, kid. Oh, and don’t forget that I’m going need you here tomorrow at three for the opening shift, alright?”

“Got it. See you tomorrow,” You said, giving him a little wave as he left. You pulled the door closed and locked it behind him, giving it a gentle tug to make sure it was secure. Shoving the set of keys into the back pocket of your light blue denim cut off shorts, you made your way back across the quiet, empty bar and over towards Joel. You let out a soft sigh, lightly draping an arm around his shoulders. “Joel, please. It’s almost one o’ clock in the morning. I still have quite a bit to do around here before I can leave,” You stated. You reached up, affectionately running your fingers through his graying, dark brown curls. “You have patrol duty in a few hours. Go home and get some sleep. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He scoffed. “Ain’t no way in fuckin’ hell I’d let you walk home alone at this hour.”

You sighed again, withdrawing your hand from his hair as you stepped back.

Joel turned on the bar stool he’d been perched on for most of the night, his dark brown eyes taking the sight of you in; they glazed over your fitted, tight black tee shirt with a neckline that scooped way too low and exposed too much skin for his liking. His lips pressed together into a thin, tight line as his gaze wandered down further, noticing how the frayed hem of your cut offs fell a couple of inches above the middle of your thighs. “You really gotta fuckin’ wear that outfit every night?” 

You glanced down at yourself, frowning. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“I just don’t fuckin’ like it,” he muttered gruffly, his fingers holding onto his glass of whiskey in a near death grip. “You’re showin’ off way too goddamn much. Every fucker you served tonight got more than a fuckin’ eyeful. I probably watched ‘bout a dozen idiots stare at your tits and openly flirt with you right in front of me, you know that?”

“There’s a reason why this is the uniform I have to wear, Joel,” You teased with a giggle, hoping to ease the tension that was practically radiating off of the man.

“You fuckin’ enjoyin’ this?” He asked bitterly as he glared at you. He drained the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass down onto the counter with a little more force than what was necessary. His jealousy was seeping out of him, and you’d be a damned dirty liar if you said you didn’t find it so incredibly hot. 

“Mm, just a little bit,” You replied with another tiny giggle. You leaned up against the bar and crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze meeting his; you noticed the way the seething anger flashed in his dark eyes. His raw, raging emotions were only exacerbated by the amount of bourbon he’d had to drink that night. “Oh lighten up, Joel! I’m only kidding and you know that. Listen, the outfit and the flirting, it’s just part of my job as a bartender. It’s something that all the girls around here have to do. I’m just eye candy for the lonely and horny patrolmen who have nothing better to do with their free time. Besides, Seth makes it very clear to all the fucking guys around here that they can look but they can’t touch—”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Joel snarled, suddenly rising to his feet. “I don’t give a fuck if they don’t touch you, alright? I don’t want those bastards lookin’ at you, hell I don’t even want any of them so much as fuckin’ breathin’ in your direction!” He drew closer towards you, his voice going so dangerously low it sent a little chill right up the length of your spine. “You’re mine, you fuckin’ understand me? You are mine.” 

Your playful smile faded slightly. 

His possessiveness should have bothered you. It should have angered you, even. You were a human being, not his piece of property. But as you drank in the sight of him, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides, the way his nostrils flared, and not to mention that all too familiar murderous look in his eye, you couldn’t help the wanting heat that flooded your lower belly.

“Then take me,” You murmured, your voice soft.

Joel sobered up ever so slightly. “What?”

“I didn’t stutter, Joel. I said, take me.”

Joel stared at you, mouth agape. “You’ve lost your damn mind. We’re in a fuckin’ bar—”

“A dimly lit, locked bar with no one else around,” You smirked, pulling your top down to expose the black lace bra you wore underneath. “You say I’m yours, so show me. Right here, right now.”

Joel’s cock twitched behind his zipper, his mouth going dry when he caught a glimpse of the way the soft, delicate lace hugged the delicious curve of your breasts. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him as he watched you bite down on your bottom lip and tilt your head up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently—you knew how to play him just like a fucking fiddle. 

“Baby, no. Not here.”

You pouted playfully. “Don’t you want me?”

“Not like this,” he rasped, although the continued straining against the dark blue denim of his jeans stated otherwise. “I’m drunk, I’m pissed off—I just don’t trust myself with you right now.”

You smiled sweetly at him and stepped forward to shrink the gap of distance between your bodies.

You slid your hands underneath his brown jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. You placed a hand on his chest, right over his heartbeat as your eyes met his. “I trust you.”

He rigidly shook his head. “What if I hurt you?”

“I trust you,” You reassured him. “Please, Joel. I just need you to fuck me, right here, right now. I need you to show me that I’m all yours. Yours and only—”

Joel didn’t even bother to let you finish.

He reached out for you and pulled your body flush against his, his mouth crashing violently against yours; his tongue darted through your parted lips, dominating your own in a way that made you melt into a submissive little puddle right in his large hands. He wasted no time, moving his lips down to your neck where he started nipping and biting at your delicate flesh with his teeth—hard enough that your silky skin would be covered in discolored marks tomorrow. But any worries about him being too rough had gone out the window. He wanted to mark his territory. He wanted every motherfucker in Jackson to know you belonged to him.

“Joel,” You moaned out his name and clutched fistfuls of his dark green flannel shirt.

He said nothing, allowing his mouth to continue ravaging you as his hands started ridding you of your clothes; he broke contact for as second, just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. You aided him and reached around yourself to unhook your bra, carelessly tossing it somewhere behind the bar. Your shorts and matching lace underwear came off next, along with your tan brown cowboy boots. 

Normally, Joel would take his time. He’d kiss and worship his way across every inch of your entire body, but not tonight—no, tonight he was going to take you quickly, roughly. Between all the alcohol and his pent up frustrations, being gentle was the very last thing on his mind.

“C’mere.” Joel yanked you over towards a small, square wooden table just a few feet away from the bar, the same damn table where patrons would enjoy their after work duty drinks. He gripped the back of your neck and shoved you down, bending you right over the table; you let out a little gasp as your warm, naked body hit the cold, laminated wood. His rough, calloused hands glided their way down your smooth back and he took a single step backwards to admire the view. “Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me see you—all of you.”

You glanced over your shoulder at him with lustful, hooded eyes. Biting your lower lip, you did as you were told and spread your legs, your entire body erupting in goosebumps as the chilly air coming from the vents of the building hit your throbbing center. 

Joel groaned, noticing the way your inner thighs were slick, coated with your own arousal. “Look at you, my pretty girl. Already soakin’ wet for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Giggling, you turned away from him and pushed your feet apart even wider. You then opened your mouth to speak, but instead let out a loud yelp when you felt him deliver a swift but harsh strike to your ass with the palm of his hand. 

He’d never fucking done that before.

Joel began kneading at the spot he’d just struck you with his fingers so aggressively that you were certain you’d find bruises there in the morning. 

The thought alone made you drip onto the floor.

“Joel—” You lifted yourself slightly off of the table.

“Stay down,” he commanded, pushing you back down.

You nodded and pressed your cheek flat against the table, your wet, aching walls clenching in pure anticipation as you heard his belt buckle clinking followed by the sweet sound of his zipper coming undone. Seconds later, the tip of his rock hard length pressed against your drenched slit.

You spread your legs even wider, prompting Joel to chuckle.

“You want me bad, don’t you my little darlin’?” he nearly taunted you. “Hm? You want me inside that pretty little pussy?”

“God yes I do—please fuck me,” You pleaded him. “Please, Joel. Please.”

He hummed. “Since you’re bein’ an awfully good girl and askin’ so politely…”

Joel didn’t even finish his sentence. There was a momentary pause and before you could ask him what the hell he was waiting for, he slammed into you, sheathing himself in your tight heat.

No warning. No warmup.

No time for you to think about anything except for the feeling of his thick, hard cock filling you up and stretching you completely.

You gasped out as all the air left your lungs. “Joel!”

Gripping your shoulders, he slid himself out of you entirely before delivering another powerful blow, one that had you seeing fucking stars. He didn’t give your body any time to adjust to him as he began to thrust, picking up a wild pace that you felt would split you in half if he didn’t ease up.

He’d fucked you plenty of times before—but never like this.

Senseless.

You gripped the edges of the table, gasping for a breath—you tried to cry out, but when you opened your mouth, all that came out were quick, pathetic little pants, desperate for air.

It hurt.

But the kind of hurt that felt so fucking good that you wanted more and more of it.

“You look so goddamn pretty, takin’ my cock like that,” Joel grunted out. His hands had abandoned your shoulders in favor of your hips, his fingers bruising the soft flesh there. “What a fuckin’ good girl you are for me, baby. Such a good girl—”

Planting your shaky hands on the table top, you pushed yourself up.

Joel’s hands left your hips. He slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling your naked back against his broad, clothed chest where he held you firmly in place as he continued to fuck you into oblivion with his barbaric, almost animalistic thrusts. 

“Who do you belong to?” he whispered into your ear, his other hand resting on your stomach. “Tell me, darlin’. Who do you belong to?”

“You,” You somehow managed to choke out a reply between gasps. “I belong to you, Joel.”

“Yeah? You’re mine? All fuckin’ mine?”

You could only nod your head in response.

Joel’s arm around you tightened. “Say it,” he demanded. “I need you to say it.”

“I’m yours, all fucking yours!”

His hand moved from your stomach and dove between your thighs, two of his fingers finding your clit as swollen and sensitive as it had ever been. His digits circled the bundle of nerves, causing your legs to tremble as you felt the beginning of an orgasm coiling tight in your lower belly.

“Oh fuck,” You breathed out in a moan. “Joel, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me baby,” he encouraged you huskily, his breath hot against your ear. “I want you to come all over my cock like the good girl you are.”

Finally, you managed to find your cries inside of you; they tore themselves from your throat where they had been lodged, echoing throughout the entire, empty bar as you came undone, your walls clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck baby,” Joel released a deep, guttural groan and shoved you back over the table, pinning you down on it with both his hands as he spilled inside of you.

He leaned over you, his body hovering over yours as the two of you took a minute to catch your breath. He gave one final gentle thrust, groaning again when he felt the way you fluttered around him. 

“Already wantin’ more sweetheart?” Joel planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before finally pulling out of you. He stepped back, pulling his jeans back up into place; he stopped for just a moment, noticing the way his cum dripped out of you and slowly trickled down the inside of your thighs. Resisting the primal urge to take you all over again, he zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt. He then realized you still hadn’t moved and a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Baby I didn’t hurt you did I—”

“Shut up,” You told him, lazily waving a hand at him. “Don’t ruin it.”

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle as he shook his head. “You really are somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Mhm, but that’s why you love me,” You reminded him, glancing over your shoulder at him with a tiny little smirk.

Joel leaned over, quickly feathering a trail of kisses down your spine before he started walking around the bar and picking up your clothes. He handed them to you along with his jacket and helped you clean yourself up with a clean rag from behind the bar. As you dressed, he disappeared behind the counter once more, returning just moments later with a glass of bourbon in one hand and another clean, damp cloth in the other. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing to a bar stool and you obeyed. You sipped on the hard liquor watching as he started wiping down the table. Discarding the cloth into a garbage bin, he began putting all the chairs up on the tables for you. Looking around, he asked, “What else do you need me to do?”

Setting the glass down, you stood up and shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come in early tomorrow and finish up my tasks before the bar opens.” You smiled tiredly at him. “Let’s just go home, yeah?”

“Yeah, you need to get some rest—” Joel stopped, his dark eyes widening when he caught a glimpse of the marks that had already begun forming on your neck. “Shit,” he muttered as he hurried over to you. He moved the lapels of his jacket out of the way and touched them delicately. “You’re not gonna be able to hide these, baby.”

“It’s fine,” You grinned at him. “At least now, everyone will know who I belong to.”

#smut prompt challenge #Joel Miller #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller hbo #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller angst

[rascal-xo]

Hi ! I hope you’re doing well, I wanted to request the 141 & perhaps Los Vaqueros (I am a sucker for Ale) with y/n (preferably for her to also be in the military with these fine men) whose ex boyfriend ends up recently joining either the military or tags along a mission (I would love if their rank was below the 141/los vaqueros just to see how they would react, not intimated by the ex but more like cocky because they know they are better than them). Also maybe add a bit of NSFW… (pls & thank you). I’m sorry if it seems too specific or detailed but this plot has been nagging at my brain and I love the way you write so I was like okay, I know who can write this perfectly ! I appreciate you taking the time to read my request ! Have a good one !

Loose Ends | Alejandro x Female Reader |

Chapter Summary: You find self face to face with a toxic part of your past…

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, fluff, some minor smut |READERS CALLSIGN IS “RED”|

Word Count:

Tags: @satorisgirl

A/N: Ahh sorry it took so long but it’s finally here! I hoped you enjoyed the fic :))

——> Some stuff is not canonically accurate to MW2 or CoD in general

“Alright, gather around!” Price calls out to the team, There’s maps and documents sprawled over the top of the table where you and the rest of the team stand around it. “We’ve got one hour until we’re back out in the field, thanks to our lovely General Shepard, we’ve got our work cut out for us.” He says, with a hint sarcasm on his tongue.

You exchange a knowing glance with Soap, both of you aware of the tension between the Task Force and Shepard.

“We’re joining forces with Los Vaqueros for this one,” Price continues. “As you know, we’ve been tracking Hassan in the city for weeks now, and we’ve been tasked with assisting them in finally taking him down.”

The 141 and Alejandro’s men were hand in hand the past few weeks hunting down Hassan and the rouge missiles.

In the few times you had the pleasure of working with Colonel Vargas and his men, you always enjoyed it a little more than you liked to admit. You look over at Colonel Vargas, and he meets your gaze, nodding a smile.

But then, Price's voice interrupts your thoughts. "Another one of our company contacts will be joining us on this mission. They’ll be leading behind the operation alongside Colonel Vargas."

You feel your stomach drop as Price gestures towards the door. The man walks in question walks in, and you immediately recognize him as Phillip Graves, your old commander and ex boyfriend.

You had worked with the Commander side by side for 3 years, when you were recruited for the Shadow Company by Shepard.

The last time you saw him was when you announced your decision to leave. You had a huge fight, and things ended on a more than sour note. Hitting closer than personal between you and Phillip. You never expected to see him again so soon, especially not on a mission like this.

“Commander Graves, good to have you and the Shadows here.” Price greets him. The rest of the team seems oblivious to the history between you and Dom, but you can't help but feel awkward and uncomfortable.

You try to make a quick exit as soon as the briefing comes to an end, but Graves catches up to you, “Hey, Red, it’s been a while.”

You turn to face him, trying to keep a calm demeanor, “Not long enough, unfortunately.” You say before you have time to really think it through.

The commander smirks, “Don’t worry, Y/N, I’m just here to do my job.” He pauses, looking you up and down. “Hopefully you won’t be too distracted.”

You internally roll your eyes and walk away, not wanting to engage in any more conversation than you have to with him.

As you gear up and head to the chopper, you can feel the weight of the mission and the added tension of the Shadows presence weighing on you.

“What’s got you quiet, Roja?” Alejandro says, leaning closer to you.

“Just thinking.” You answer, “Don’t have much time to do that in peace lately.” You chuckle.

“Say I’ll buy you a drink once we make it out of this shitstorm alive, huh?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I’d like that.” You smile.

Once you're on the ground, you and the rest of the team move quickly, working alongside Los Vaqueros to track down Hassan's whereabouts.

The mission is intense, with gunfire ringing out and explosions rocking the city. Despite the chaos around you, you stay focused, your training and instincts kicking in as you move with precision and purpose.

It's only when you and Graves are alone, working together to take down a group of insurgents, that things begin to take a turn.

You look over at him, out of breath from taking a hard blow to the ribs, taking in his features. He looks older, more weathered than you last saw him. But he’s still annoyingly good at his job.

“Not like you to take hits.” Graves suddenly says, breaking the silence between you two, once the coast is clear. You two are alone in one of the emptied buildings, awaiting clearance to evac.

Like you’re perfect.” You reply, trying to keep your annoyance at ease.

Graves smirks, “I never said I was perfect, just better than most.”

You roll your eyes, “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?”

He chuckles, “No, that’s what you used to tell me.”

You feel a pang of memories hit you, remembering the times when you and Phillip were together, laughing and messing around during your downtime. But the memory is quickly replaced by the bitterness of the person he’s become, or was all along.

“So, this is what you left our unit for, coverts?” He says, leaning against a broken door. His demeanor suddenly shifts, and you feel the hostility radiating off of him.

“That’s one less person you can have at your disposal for good old Shepard.” You scoff, meeting his dark expression.

“You know, Y/N, you always did have a problem with authority. It's no surprise you didn't last long with the Shadows.” You feel your blood boiling.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" you snap. Graves takes a step towards you, his voice lowering dangerously, “Watch it. Don’t wanna start anything you can’t finish, Soldier.”

Before things can escalate any further, Alejandro suddenly appears comes through the doorway, pausing in his steps when he takes in the tense atmosphere between you and Graves.

Without hesitating, Alejandro strides forward, stepping between you and Graves.

"Graves," Alejandro says, his voice low and controlled. "You need to back off of the Sergeant. Now."

Graves sneers, "What, you gonna protect your little girlfriend?"

Alejandro's fists clench, but he remains composed. "I'm not playing games, Cabrón. Back off."

Graves takes a step forward, his face contorting with anger. "You don't know what you're getting into, Vargas. This has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me when you're threatening a member of my team," Alejandro says, his voice sharp. "If you can't handle working with Y/N, then you can leave."

Graves looks like he's about to say something else, but the sound of the C-130’s engines outside interrupts him. "Don’t butt in where you don’t belong, Vargas." Graves says through gritted teeth, before turning and stalking out of the room.

You take this as an opportunity to brush past Phillip as you move towards Alejandro.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding as he turns to you, concern etched on his face. "You okay, Roja?"

“Yes i’m okay. We just have a long past.” You exhale, fixing your red bandana that seems to have slipped a little from your forehead.

“Let’s get out of here.” You say, relieved to finally have an excuse to get away from Graves.

Alejandro nods, and the two of you head out of the building together. Once you're outside, the weight of the mission and Graves' presence finally lifts off your shoulders.

“I need a drink.” You say, trying to lighten the mood as you head towards the evac.

Alejandro chuckles, “I remember promising you one earlier.”

You smile, “Lead the way, Colonel.”

As you make your way back to base, the two of you decide to leave the the post-mission bar celebration earlier than the rest of the team, and you decide to go back to your quarters, which Alejandro happily obliges to.

As you walk through the quiet halls, you can feel the heat and electricity between you and Alejandro, and you know that you're not the only one who's been thinking about it.

Finally, when you reach your door, he turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours in a way that makes your heart race. Granted you too are reaching tipsy at this point.

“Y/N…” He says, his voice low and husky.

Before he can finish, you reach up and pull him down to meet your lips in a heated kiss. The passion between you is electric, and you can feel the heat building as you explore each other's mouths.

As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he presses you against the wall. The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment

Eventually, you pull away, both of you gasping for breath. You look up at Alejandro, seeing the desire and intensity in his eyes.

The moment you enter the room, he presses you against the wall once again, his mouth claiming yours as his hands roam over your body.

You feel the heat building between you, the need for each other growing with each passing second. Without breaking the kiss, Alejandro begins to tug at your clothes, revealing more and more of your skin.

Soon you're standing there in nothing but your underwear, your body flushed with desire. Alejandro steps back to admire the sight before him.

You reach down to palm him through his pants, eliciting a low groan from his lips. He breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes dark with desire.

His hands slide down to your panties, tugging them down your legs and throwing them aside.

With one swift movement, he lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing on top of you.

Your bodies are a tangle of limbs and heat, desire and passion taking over.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #call of duty smut #ghost x reader #fanfic #simon riley imagine #ghost x female reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #los vaqueros #alejandro vargas #alejandro x you #los vaqueros x reader #phillip graves #graves x you

[st4rgzer]

ORANGE JUICE matt sturniolo

summary: y/n comes back after a few tough months (very much recommend listening to orange juice by noah kahan before reading)

genre: fluff and angst

cw: big TW for recovering and becoming sober :)

a/n: again, theres more info in the songs if this doesn’t make much sense but yeah, hope y’all like it<3, will do more song rec fics, i love them

The triplets called me today, they heard I was better and they were hanging out with Nate and some other friends, so I decided to tag along.

It’s been 6 months on the dot since I got sober, I think they know about it. I’ve kind off disappeared from the face of the earth, changing myself, and I wasn’t sure if some people would approve.

I knock on the door and I’m greeted by Nick immediately, he engulfs me in a hug that lasts about a minute

“nick I missed you too but I think that’s enough” I laughed, trying to unwrap his arms, he eventually does it himself.

“yeah stop hogging her!” Chris says before wrapping his arms around me in yet another never ending hug. After a bit, Im left standing in front of Matt, he’s different, he’s grown a little bit of a beard, barely a beard, more like a stubble, a smile creeps up on my face, a familiar one, a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“you look great” he smiles at me, coming closer and embracing me in my third hug in the span of 5 minutes, I linger there for a little longer, he sighs and rests his head on the crook of my neck, his words tickle. “I’ve missed you, a lot” I giggle a bit as the stubble brushed against me jawline. I break from the hug as soon as I remember Nick, Chris, and Nate are waiting on us. “I missed you too” I whispered before Nick began ranting on about the things I’ve missed.

“And we’ve been on tour! And we’re going again soon” he explains as the end of his Ted talk comes to an end.

“wow! Thats great, im so happy for you guys” I can’t help but have a huge smile on my face, looking at the three and realizing how much they’ve grown without me, and the fact they’ve waited for me and they’re not mad at me for leaving, no questions asked.

“What have you been up to?” Matt asks with a quiet voice “if you don’t mind us asking” he quickly reassures me I don’t have to say anything I’m not comfortable with.

“Well, I’ve been getting help, doing better now” I leave it there, not wanting to give any more information than I needed to, not right now at least.

“That’s amazing, we’re proud of you” Matt places a hand on mine for comfort, everyone nods agreeing.

“Wanna help me with the snacks?” Matt breaks the silence, I nod and he leads me to the kitchen, it hasn’t changed a bit since I got here, there’s just more stuff, it’s more lived in, I like it.

I open the fridge and see a row of beers at the bottom, probably for when friends come over, my body goes tense and the sounds around me become muffled, I snap out of it when Matt pats on my shoulder.

“Hey, you alright?” He ask’s concerned, I know he’s trying to keep a calm expression but I can tell he’s worried.

“Yeah I’m fine just- got caught up for a second” I utter out with a sigh, I don’t notice my hand trembling till he grabs it.

“Theres orange juice here, I know it’s your favorite” he says softly, rubbing the palm of my hand, making sure I looked at him in the eyes so I wouldn’t get distracted with something else.

“Yeah? Thanks, I’ll get it then” I smile at him, he kissed the tips of my fingers gently

“Anything you need ok? Count on me, please” he begged, looking at me with sincerity, no games.

I nodded and the corners of my mouth turned upwards as it hit me that I was with him again, after such a long time, for me at least. I then grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and poured myself a cup, Matt glancing at me with a smile on his face as I did so.

Our hearts have changed, our faces have changed, but we’ll always find our way back to each other, no matter the changes we succumb to, and I’ll always hold that in my heart.

taglist: @iha8you @dwntwn-strnlo @slaysturniolo @stvrni0lo @strniolo @gabbylovesreading @sturn3g1rl @ifilwtmfc

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo image #matt sturniolo fluff

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

Just A Little Taste*

pairing: masseuse harry x reader

warnings: smut, oral(female receiving), swearing

~

Walking into the front door of the massage parlour, YN is greeted by the smell of flowers and essential oils as she proceeds further into the building. Everything around her is white and organized, not a single thing stained or out of place. She’s a little afraid to walk on the clean, shiny floor, not wanting to scuff it up or get it dirty.

Her hands are shaky with nerves as she makes her way to the front desk to see where she needs to go. The older woman, whose name tag reads Jessica, greets her with a bright smile.

“Hello, welcome! What can I do for you today?” she asks, her white manicured nails tapping against the counter lightly to the rhythm of some sort of elevator music that is playing in the lobby.

“Hi, I have an appointment for 2:30. My name is YN YLN,” she greets back, wringing her hands together as she awaits further instruction.

Jessica nods and turns to her computer, typing away until she nods and hums in recognition. “Alright, I see you on the list. I’m going to go ahead and get you checked in and then you can take a seat over there on one of our couches. Someone will be out very shortly to escort you, and I hope you enjoy your time,” she explains, YN thanking her with a smile before walking away.

She takes a seat on the empty couch, and it’s so soft she could fall asleep right then and there. Trying to stay awake, she decides to grab a magazine from the large stack beside her. Getting the first one, she opens it up, seeing that the main article is about chakras and the importance of female orgasms. Her entire neck and face heat up, but she’s unable to put it down, genuinely intrigued by the words on the page.

There are masturbation tips, best sex positions for orgasm, and even sex you coupons. She takes one out and slips it into her purse, ready to put it to good use later. Not long afterwards, a woman steps out from a hallway and heads over to her with a blinding, gorgeous smile on her face.

“Hello, YN. I’m Emma, and I’ll be escorting you to your private room if that’s alright with you,” she says, and YN is greeting her before gathering her belongings and standing up to follow the energetic woman.

The two make polite conversation as they walk down a long white hallway lined with rooms until they get to the very end, into a room that looks like a fancy suite.

On the way into the room, her steps falter as she reads the name on the door. ‘Harry Styles’. There’s no way she booked a man, is there? Thinking back to what she booked, she hangs her head in frustration as she realizes it said ‘H. Styles’.

Interrupting her thoughts, Emma gives her another bright smile. “Well, this is it. All you have to do is undress completely and place the towel over your backside. Mr. Styles should be in shortly, I hope you enjoy,” she exclaims, leaving behind one last blinding smile before she’s leaving and giving YN the privacy she needs. A sigh leaves her lips as the door clicks shut.

This can’t be real life she thinks as she undresses shakily, grabbing the soft towel from the table and lying down on it, placing it over her body.

~

YN is lying face down on the massage table in the freezing cold room, shivering with just a fluffy white towel covering her backend. Nerves fill her body with each inhale, her heart hammering inside her chest.

As she tries to calm herself down, she runs her fingers over the leather of the table, the slight scratching acting as a distraction. She’s especially nervous because she’s never gotten a full body deep tissue massage, and the fact that she’d accidentally booked a male was plaguing her mind. She decides to close her eyes and relax against the table, trying to clear her mind.

No later than a minute after she closes her eyes, her body tensing up once more as she hears the door slide open and her nose is filled with the scent of cologne. It isn’t too strong, but it isn’t too faint either. The scent makes her body visibly relax, and she hears a deep chuckle from across the room.

“Y’like the cologne, eh?” the smooth voice speaks from behind her. YN literally almost moans out loud at the deep timbre, his accent mixed with the cologne making her head spin. She nods against the table and subtly -or so she thinks- squeezes her thighs together, trying to prevent a lot of wetness from forming between them. It’s pathetic, really, how she’s instantly at this man’s mercy and she hasn’t even seen his fucking face.

What she doesn’t know is that Harry was floored the second he entered the room and saw her lying there. He doesn’t know what it is about her, but there’s something so enthralling that makes him unable to take his eyes off of her. And when he saw her clench her thighs together at his voice, it stroked his ego so well and he had to refrain from pounding her into the table right then and there.

He walks around to the end of the table, his eyes on the swell of her ass. Heat bubbles deep in his belly as he sees that she doesn’t have the towel on correctly, giving him a glimpse of her bare ass and vagina.

Before he makes a decision he’s going to regret, he plucks the towel down a bit to cover her up and clears his throat.

“So, I’m Harry, and I’ll be your masseuse today. What brings you in, darling?” he asks, preparing his cart with all of his oil.

YN’s eyes nearly roll back into her head at the pet name, words escaping her for a moment before she’s finally processing his words.

“Well, um, I’ve been really stressed lately, and tense all over. My friend could tell I was having a rough time, so she suggested I go and get a massage, so that’s how I ended up here,” she responds shakily, trying to keep her voice level.

“Ah, I see,” he hums, popping the cap on the oil. “Are there any places you want me to focus on specifically? I’m going to work on all of the tense places I can feel, but if you feel that there are any places that need special attention, just let me know now,” he speaks, pouring some of the slightly warm liquid into his hand.

“The only places that have been bothering me are my lower back and my thighs,” she responds and Harry nods even though she can’t see him, rubbing his hands together.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Is it okay for me to start?” he questions, and she nods her head. “I need your words, darling. Consent is key,” he teases.

“Yes, you can start. Sorry,” she corrects herself, embarrassment flooding her mind.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing his hands into her lower back and massaging there. The combination of his praise and his fingers have her moaning out loud, her body relaxing. “Y’like that, hm? I bet, it’s real tense right in here,” he grunts, digging in a bit harder.

He takes his time and works out each knot in her lower back, seeing her relax with each press of his fingers. When he’s done, he moves to the centre of her back, repeating his actions.

“You’re so tense,” he says, rubbing out each knot in the centre of her back before doing her neck and shoulders, ready to move down to her thighs.

Getting a bit more oil, he rubs it in before moving down further, placing his hands on her thighs and starting to rub gently. By the time he’s done, he doesn’t even need to squint his eyes to see the wetness glistening i’m front of him.

“I’m also sensing some tension right in here,” he murmurs, lightly rubbing over her ass. “Is it okay if I continue?” he asks, getting permission from her.

He spreads her ass cheeks open a bit to get some oil all over, a moan bubbling in his chest as the action separates her folds, a string of wetness connecting them. All he wants to do is lick between them, just a little taste. And he, not being one to shy away from an opportunity, asks her if he can.

“Can I taste you?” he asks bluntly, hearing a gasp leave her lips.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, taken aback by his words. There’s no way he just said that, right? To her?

“You’re so fucking gorgeous and I’d really like to eat y’pussy. If that’s okay with you, of course,” he answers, letting go of her ass cheeks and letting them fall back together.

A moan leaves her lips at how blunt he is, nodding her head. “Fuck, please do,” she answers, and he wastes absolutely no time before he’s spreading her ass cheeks once more and diving in. He licks a bold stripe up her dripping folds, moaning at the taste of her. Her puckered hole is right in front of his face, but he leaves it alone, not knowing if she’s comfortable with that.

Pulling away, he licks his lips as he basks in the taste of her on his face. His cock is rock hard and he’s give anything to fuck her, but he needs her to cum first.

“Can you get on y’back for me, please?” he rasps, desperate to see all of her. She nods and flips over, and Harry’s cock is twitching violently and leaking precum at the sight of her perfect breasts, and her legs open wide, waiting for him. Trailing his eyes down further, his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head as he sees a bit of hair residing on her pubic area, and he can’t resist reaching up to touch the coarse hair.

He wants so badly to see his cum paint the little hairs white, but that’ll have to wait for another time. Getting into position, he places her legs on his shoulders before instantly mouthing at her again, sucking gently on her clit. Her whines and moans spur him on, and when she starts to grind against his face, he looks up her body to watch her movements.

Seeing her hands playing with her nipples, he shakes his head against her slightly before reaching upward and moving them out of the way, taking over. He pinches them lightly between his fingers, tweaking them slightly. The action mixed with his mouth working wonders between her legs as her back arching and her hands holding onto either side of the table, her grip tight.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum,” she warns, her voice getting higher in pitch with each swipe of his tongue. He groans into her at her words, hoping it’ll get her there faster, and it does. At the feeling of his voice vibrating through her body, she’s tensing up and her orgasm is flooding his mouth. He drinks down ever drop, savouring the taste of her. When she whimpers in overstimulation, he’s pulling back slowly and hesitantly, still wanting to taste her.

He rubs up and down her bare sides, helping her come down from her orgasm with his gentle touch. The second she comes down, she’s letting out a breathy laugh, making Harry look at her in confusion.

“If I get treated like that every time, I’ll definitely be coming back soon,” she explains, making Harry let out a loud belly laugh at her adorableness.

“You will, just ask for Harry when you book the appointment,” he says cheekily, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. She deepens it before she’s whimpering against his lips at the taste of herself. She grinds against her gently and bites down onto her lip, but not hard enough to hurt.

Pulling away, YN reaches for the waistband of his pants, looking to him for permission.

~

#harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles smut #harryistheonlyoneforme #smut #harry styles filth #dbf harry styles #harry styles #harry related writings #masseuse harry #masseuse harry styles #ceo au #ceo aesthetic #ceo harry styles smut #dbf harry #dbf!harry #oh-sofarfromhome #reblog #fic rec

[aquaquadrant]

How would htp!Tango go with the bit from Limited Life episode 4 when he's running from everyone?

How would it be different from the actual scene?

(not canon to HTP ofc because the timelines don’t match up but HEY i like angst)

"tango!" skizz calls desperately, peering out over the ocean. he could’ve sworn he’d heard tango’s voice when he came this way, but the range of amplification their voices get from the proximity mod can be a little tricky sometimes-

“skizz?”

tango’s voice crackles out of skizz’s communicator; he must be in range, after all. but skizz doesn’t relax just yet. crouching by the water’s edge, he scans the waves intently. his grip tightens around his axe.

"alright, where are you, dude?" he asks, voice low. he keeps the horizon in his periphery; he can just barely make out the horde of yellow names off on the distant shore, digging and searching for tango.

“r- right below you.” tango’s voice is shaky; probably from the adrenaline. being hunted by almost the entire server isn’t exactly a picnic. “where- is impulse with you? or- or etho?”

skizz shakes his head, even though he knows tango can’t see it. “no dude, they’re running interference, okay, but it won’t be long before the others see me over here.” he swallows. “you gotta let me kill you.”

there’s a brief silence.

“okay.” tango’s voice is barely audible. the tone of it gives skizz pause; that sounds like more than just nerves. “okay, o- okay, fine, i’m- i’m fine with that.”

“are you?” skizz asks, his brows furrowing.

“i…” there’s a shuddering exhale. “i don’t- i’d rather it be you, if- if i’m honest. the others, they might…” he breaks off, making a distressed sound in the back of his throat. “y- you know.”

there’s definitely something wrong. skizz’s heart is starting to pound, but he keeps his voice steady. “alright, yeah. this is gonna stick it to them so bad.” he lifts his communicator up and peers through its lens. “can you give me a quick tag, buddy?”

tango doesn’t reply, but skizz sees the flash of a gamer tag beneath the ocean before it vanishes again. tango’s not taking any chances, apparently. not that skizz can blame him.

“you’re pretty deep underwater, dude,” skizz informs him regretfully. “and i don’t- ugh, i don’t have my stupid shovel.”

tango inhales sharply. “i- i can’t- uh, can you…?”

“okay,” skizz murmurs. he knows tango won’t be harmed by water like a real blaze, but it’s uncomfortable even on the best of days and that’d be a lot to ask of him right now. “alright, i’ll come to you. stay put, okay?”

“okay,” tango whispers.

“there a hole for me, buddy?” skizz asks, putting his axe away.

“yes.”

“alright.” skizz straightens up, folding his wing tightly against his body. even one wing will cause a lot of drag underwater and he’s already not looking forward to soggy feathers. “i’m on my way, just hang on.”

taking a deep breath, skizz dives into the ocean.

salt stings his eyes as he swims towards the sand at the bottom. it’s darker down here than he’s expecting for midday, only the faint glow from his halo allowing him to see. he starts digging as soon as he reaches the bottom, hoping he’s in the right place. he’s acutely aware of how long he can hold his breath for and the last thing he needs is a stupid drowning death to steal even more time from him-

a figure enters his field of vision, making him jolt. it’s scott, his freshly yellow timer barely visible in the deep. still holding his breath, skizz equips his axe.

scott actually rolls his eyes. “i’m not gonna kill him, don’t worry.” his voice carries well underwater, and he doesn’t seem to have trouble breathing. must be due to those recently acquired gills of his.

well, that’s fortunate. skizz nods quickly and puts his axe away before resuming his digging. to his surprise, scott floats down next to him and starts helping, his webbed fingers making easy work of the sand. after a couple seconds, they’ve cleared enough sand for skizz to see a hold in the underlying stone, with a faint light beyond it. lungs burning, skizz dives for it.

he makes it through right as the first damage hits him, head breaking through the water with a gasp. kicking against the current, he finally emerges from the ocean. gravity once again takes hold of him. he flops onto the damp stone floor quite ungracefully, his wing heavy and pulling him slightly off-balance.

skizz hauls himself to his feet, dripping wet and catching his breath, and looks around the cave tango’s carved out for himself. it’s tiny, with just three blocks between them, and lit only by the glow of tango’s blaze rods. they’re redder than usual and roaring with flames, whirling above his head in agitation- the way a blaze spins before it starts shooting fireballs.

tango himself doesn’t seem to be doing any better. he’s crouched against a corner, his arms wrapped around his knees, claws digging into his skin. his pupils are blown, so much so that it almost makes his wide eyes look completely black. his chest is rising and falling rapidly, and the noise that comes with each breath sounds disturbingly like a blaze. his mouth hangs slightly parted as he pants, lips drawn back to show his sharp teeth- like a wolf does. but there’s no ferocity in his expression; just sick fear.

altogether, the sight sends a chill down skizz’s spine. it’s like he’s looking at an animal; a cornered, terrified, wild animal. there have been things in the past tango’s reacted strangely to, sure, but skizz has never seen it this bad before. god, he wishes impulse was here.

“hey, tango,” skizz says softly.

for a moment, tango just stares at skizz. then his eyes dart to the side, to the hole in the stone. belatedly, skizz realizes what’s got tango so concerned.

“scott,” he calls carefully, keeping his gaze on tango, “just uh, just stay out there, okay, dude?”

a dark shadow passes by the hole before vanishing. “you’re fine, just get on with it!”

skizz swallows. he stays where he is. “tango, buddy, you okay? talk to me.”

tango’s gaze cuts back to skizz. “is martyn…?”

“no, no martyn,” skizz assures him.

tango takes a shaky breath. “i killed him,” he says hoarsely. “he- he’ll want revenge. and- and the other yellows- you have to kill me, before they find me. skizz, please.”

“hey, hey, hey, it’s alright,” skizz soothes, despite the way his heart feels like it’s twisting itself into a knot. he never thought tango would fear the other players so badly; these are his friends. “you got it. what do you- uh, how do you want me to do it?”

“TNT?” tango asks quietly. “if you light it…”

“alright, yeah, i got some TNT,” skizz says, rummaging through his inventory and pulling out a block of it. “here, uh- you wanna just take that?”

warily, tango teaches a clawed hand out and takes the TNT. he sets it down right in front of him, flush against his folded knees.

“tango?” skizz prompts gently, pulling out his flint and steel. “i need to hear you say it, buddy.”

tango shudders. “do it,” he whispers, turning his face away. “you can kill me, you- i- i just want it to be over.”

“okay, thank you,” skizz murmurs, taking a cautious step forward. “that’s right, dude. after this, it’ll all be over. i’ll come find you at spawn, okay?”

“okay."

“i’ll see ya there. now, count to five for me?"

tango swallows. “one…”

skizz lights the TNT. the sound of sizzling fills the air as the TNT starts to flash.

"t- two..."

putting the flint and steel away, skizz turns and dives back through the hole, into the ocean. tango's voice still sounds from his communicator.

"three..."

kicking madly, skizz swims towards the surface, where scott is waiting.

"four-"

BOOM.

skizz breaks the surface, gasping for breath. he glances back down and sees a new crater at the bottom of the ocean, water and sand churning into a froth. treading water with one arm, he holds his communicator up and looks at the chat.

Tango blew up.

scott gives skizz a sidelong look. "i know how hard it is to let a teammate kill you," he says, his voice low, "but that seemed..."

"scott, buddy," skizz says tiredly, heading for the shore, "keep this between us, will ya?"

~

#limited life smp #traffic smp #life series smp #hels to pay au #HTP fic #also SORRY i know u asked abt the actual chase scene #but i had such a vivid mental image for his convo w skizz #btw skizz is an angel cuz i luv that headcanon #goes so well with demon impy #sheesh this got so long

[vodika-vibes]

Hehehehe… Okay, you said it would be cool to send in another request, and after the Jesse fic which was absolutely fluffy and squeal worthy, I’m sending in another.

White Tulip and Yellow Orchid

You break up with Fox, and it’s taking a toll on the both of you. It was hard enough when you found out Fox cheated, but somehow it’s even harder not being around each other in a relationship.

I don’t know something along those lines; maybe realizing they are better suited as friends with th hope for more or maybe Fox realizing you deserve better… I’m just spitballing. Anyhew … love oo

Regrets

Summary: You break up with Fox, and both of you are suffering for it.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Word Count: 1724

Prompts: White tulip - new beginnings, Yellow Orchid - Forgiveness

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, I ended up having to change some things from your request to make it something that I'm able to write. Turns out cheating is an unforgivable hardline for me, which is good to know about myself. So I ended up completely dumping that plot idea for something else. I hope you don't mind.

You don’t look up when the chair across from you slides away from the table. You already have a good idea of who’s going to be sitting there.

“Are you here to yell at me too, Commander?” You ask as you pour some more sugar into your caf, take a sip, grimace, and then add even more sugar. It already tastes like caf flavored sugar, but you need the extra energy. Even if it’s cheap energy.

“Buy me a Caf,” Commander Wolffe says, his dark eyes serious as he looks at you, “And something to eat. We need to talk.”

You lift your gaze and scowl at him, but you pull out your credit chit and set it in his hand, “Order what you like, I suppose.”

Wolffe nods and heads to the counter, only to return several minutes later with a large caf and a breakfast sandwich. He hands you your credit chit back as he takes a seat.

You shift and rest your chin on the palm of your hands, “Alright. Lay it on me.”

Wolffe arches a brow, “You expecting something from me?”

“Thorn, Thire, and Stone have already come to yell at me, and they’re not Fox’s twin. You are. So,” you gesture vaguely, “Go ahead. Start yelling.”

“I’m not going to yell at you, sen’ika.” Wolffe says quietly.

“Well, that’s a first.” You mutter.

“I don’t kick people when they’re down.” He continues, his sharp eyes lingering on the dark circles under your eyes, and the sheer amount of sugar you’re adding to your caf. “That’s going to taste awful.”

“Meh.”

“Sen’ika,” He says slowly, quietly, “You’re clearly miserable-”

“I’m fine.” You interrupt.

“You’re not.” There’s a firmness in his voice that stops you from arguing back. “When was the last time you went home?”

“Last night.”

“And slept more than an hour or two?” He asks with a pointed look. 

You look away from him, “It’s…not important.”

“Sen’ika,” His voice is so gentle, “Why did you break up with Fox?”

Your hands fold into fists, “Maybe I was cheating on him. Maybe I wasn’t happy.”

“You might be able to pull the shit with other people,” Wolffe says quietly, “But I saw how happy you and Fox were together. And I know you would never cheat on him. So try again.”

You press your lips into a thin line. “I…I refuse to be another burden on him.” You admit quietly.

“Elaborate.”

“You don’t see him after work, Wolffe. He’s so tired. All of the time and some of the bruises and scars…” You trail off, “He was happy with me, yes, but having to hide me from everyone? For my own protection? It was wearing him down. And I can’t, won’t, do that to him.”

“He’s miserable.”

“I know.”

“You’re miserable.”

“I know.”

Wolffe is quiet for a moment, “Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?”

“I will not let him kill himself for me.” You say quietly, “And if that means that I’m on the shitlist for every single member of the guard…then so be it.”

Wolffe doesn’t say anything for a long time, and then he sighs, “I’ll talk to the guard. Tell them to lay off.” He stands and drops a light kiss to the top of your head, “Fox loves you,” He says quietly, “He’s never going to stop loving you. You should at least give him a choice.”

“He’d pick-”

“You. Always you. And we both know it.” He pulls away, “Just think about it, alright? Thanks for the food.” And then Wolffe is gone.

You cast your gaze back to your caf, sigh, and add some more sugar.

Even if you want to talk to Fox, it’ll never happen. Thorn made that plenty clear the other day. And then Thire made it clear later when he came to yell at you on your way home. 

You sigh at your caf, and then you pick it up and down half of it, before you make a face.

Gross.

About a week later, you’re at home, trying to clean up the mess that your house has turned into since you haven’t had energy, or frankly, the will to keep up with it.

According to everything you’ve ever read in your life, time is supposed to heal all wounds, but you’re starting to wonder if that was just something that people said to give themselves hope.

Because you aren’t healing.

In fact, you feel worse than ever.

Bad enough that you’re starting to wonder if you’re actually sick, because a broken heart (a self-inflicted broken heart even) shouldn’t hurt this much, right?

You’re so involved in your cleaning that you don’t hear the knock on the door at first. It’s not until the doorbell rings, startling you bad enough that your vacuum falls from your hands, that you realize you have company.

You look at the mess that is your home and sigh. Maybe they won’t want to come inside?

Carefully, because you had the genius idea of dumping everything you own in the middle of the living room so you can organize it properly, you step over the piles of stuff to get to the door. 

You press the door control to open the door, “Yes? Can I hel-” You stop mid-sentence when you see who’s standing there. “...Fox. Um…I mean, Commander.”

He looks…pissed.

“Let me in.” He bites out.

“We’re not dating anymore, Commander. You can’t order your way into my home.” You offer as you avert your gaze from his face. More than just angry, he looks tired. About as tired as you feel, really.

You hear him exhale sharply, “You’re wearing my shirt, cyare.” Even his voice is tight with anger, “Let me in.”

You glance down at the shirt, his shirt, that you are wearing, and you silently move to the side. “...sorry about the mess.”

“What mes-” He stops as soon as he steps into your apartment, and his jaw drops, “Holy kriff, did a bomb go off in your living room?”

You fold your arms, “I’m deep cleaning.”

“By making a bigger mess?”

“I have a system.”

“Is it working?”

You scowl at him, “I’ll let you know.”

He glances at you, and his lips twitch up into a small smile, before he looks away, as if suddenly remembering that he’s supposed to be angry at you. You avert your eyes as well, it’s easy, far too easy, to fall back into easy bantering with Fox.

You broke up with him.

You told him that you weren’t happy anymore.

You have no right to his time or his smiles.

“I had a chat with Wolffe.”

Oh. 

“He told me something interesting.”

Kriff. You should have sworn Wolffe to secrecy. 

“You broke up with me because you wanted to protect me?” There’s a strange mix of emotions in his voice. Anger, yes. There’s a lot of anger. But there’s also hurt, and something you recognize as affection.

“Wolffe is a kriffing snitch,” You mutter.

“Yeah, well. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to confide in my twin,” Fox points out, “And then he wouldn’t have snitched on you.”

You purse your lips, “See if I ever buy him breakfast again.”

“He came to stop the Guard from harassing you,” Fox says, “I didn’t know that they were harassing you.”

“It’s…fine. I deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”

You sigh and turn your gaze to him, “Why are you here, Fox?”

“Because I love you.”

“That’s-”

He presses a finger against your lips, “Stop and listen.” Fox waits a moment, and as soon as he realizes that you’re going to do as he asks, he adjusts his hand so that his thumb is brushing against your lips. “I love you and I’m not going to give up on us simply because you think you’re a burden.”

“I am a burden. I saw how exhausted you were-”

“I’m more exhausted now.” Fox counters sharply. “Because I’m still trying to keep you safe, only now I have to do it in secret!”

“I never asked-” You start.

“You never had to. It’s what you do when you love something.”

“Fox-”

“I know you think that you’re a burden to me. And I know I’m so tired all of the time, and I know you worry about me all of the time.” Fox says, “But I love you. And you don’t get to decide what’s best for me. Only I get to choose that, and you’re what’s best for me.”

“Fox-,” You repeat his name, feeling tears pricking your eyes.

“I’m happier when I’m with you. You give me a reason to want to wake up in the morning.”

“I hurt you.”

“And I forgive you.”

“Just like that? You were so angry-”

“Of course I was! You broke up with me after deciding what was best for me! I’m pissed about it!” Fox bites out, “But I still love you and I’m willing to accept the fact that you did this because you were worried about me.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” Fox repeats, he searches your face, and apparently finds what he’s looking for there, “Cyare, do you still love me?”

“...of course I do.”

“Be my girlfriend again?” Fox asks, “Please. We can start over if you really think we have to. I just…let me be a part of your life. I need you in my life.”

You sigh, softly. How could you say no to that? To him?

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be your girlfriend again.”

“Oh thank kriff,” Fox blurts as he presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, “Can we take a kriffing nap, I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks.”

You glance at the pile of stuff on the floor of the living room, and then turn your guilty gaze on Fox, “I think my comforter is in the mess.”

Fox glances at the pile of stuff, and then shakes his head, “No matter.” He carefully scoops you into his arms and steps over the stuff, before he heads into the bedroom and drops you on the bed, before he curls up against you, “Sleep first, everything else later.”

You tuck your head against his chest, and he folds himself around you. And you’re both asleep in a matter of moments.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #commander fox x reader #fox x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[ju1cyfru1t]

the hourglass ⏳ (rise! leo x reader)

prologue

pt.1

rottmnt x reader (Leo centered)

gn reader, platonic???, arguing, leo being stupid 🤞

takes place in the turtles finding mystic metal era 🤭

Today had just not been your day at all. From the moment you woke up, everything was going wrong.

You woke up late because you had stayed up last night to study for a math test, April was sick so you were alone in most of your classes, and you had so much homework to do tonight. You know when you’re having a bad day and all the little things just seem to add up? It was one of those situations.

Now you’re walking home through the busy, noisy New York streets, absolutely exhausted but you knew you weren’t going to get to rest anytime soon.

That’s when it caught your eye in the window of an old, run down antique shop; an hourglass filled with pink sand a golden frame. It had a glow to it, willing you to go into the shop and look at it. There was just something about it…

You picked it up and observed every detail, turning it over. That’s when you saw the small piece of mystic metal wedged into the base. You knew you couldn’t just rip it out or you would damage it. Ugh.

You whipped out your phone, listening to it ring a few times.

“You’ve got Donatello.”

“Hey, Donnie,” you looked around to make sure you were alone except for the small old woman behind the counter but she was deep into a magazine, “listen, I’m at this crusty antique shop and I think I found a piece of mystic metal.”

“Perfect! Great!...What’s the catch?”

“Uh…Well, it’s wedged into the bottom of this hourglass.” You sighed.

“Hourglass?...Hm, just bring it by and I will extract it.”

“What? But I’d have to buy it and it’s…” You searched for a price tag, “Oh my god, it’s 20 dollars!”

Donnie laughed on the other side of the phone, “Don’t even worry about it! I’ll reimburse you…Maybe.”

Oh, the things you do for them. You thought for a second and took a deep breath, “Ok, fine. But you owe me…See you soon.”

The old woman set down her magazine as you placed the hourglass on the counter and digged through your wallet, praying you had enough to buy it.

“Alluring, isn’t it?” She smiled at you with a wink. You had a bad feeling about this.

“Oh, yeah…Haha.” You laughed awkwardly.

You looked very awkward as you carried your newly-owned, oversized hourglass down the sidewalk and you were definitely getting some weird looks. Hey, it’s New York City, right? Surely, they’ve seen weirder things anyway. I mean, you certainly have.

The worst part of visiting your mutant friends is having to crawl down into the sewer and hoping to god no one saw you. But…I guess if it would help them then it’s fine. They definitely owe you though.

You didn’t even bother to knock and just let yourself into their underground lair, which both you and them were used to by now. You looked around, but you didn’t see any of them around. Alright, guess you’ll just head up to Donnie’s lab and see if he’s there. Honestly, you just wanted to get this over with and go home. You loved visiting them, of course, but you were undeniably overwhelmed and not in a good mood at all.

“Whatcha got there?” You jumped and swiftly turned to face Leonardo who had a curious expression.

You sighed in relief, “It’s just you.”

“What is that?” He snatched the hourglass from your hands.

“Hey!” You reached to grab it back, but he moved it out of your reach, “Be careful, Leo. That’s not a toy!”

Leo smirked at you, raising an eyebrow (that he doesn’t have but you know what I mean), “Uh huh, I’m very careful, trust me.” He tossed the hourglass from hand to hand, observing it like you had in the shop.

“I’m serious, Leo, it’s fragile. Just give it back, ok? it’s got a shard of that metal you guys need in it and I need to give it to Donnie.” You groaned in annoyance.

“Come on, lighten up!” Leo scoffed, “What’s got you in such a bad mood?”

“Sorry,” you breathed out, “I just…Had a rough day at school.”

There was silence for a moment before Leo burst out laughing, “Seriously? School? Rough? Yeah, ok.”

“What?” You narrowed you eyes at him, confused. What the hell was he laughing at?

“I’m just saying…What’s so rough about it? You go to school, you learn or whatever, you go home. Seems pretty easy if you ask.” Leo snickered.

Now it was your turn to scoff, “And how would you know, Leon? It’s so much more than that. I mean, it’s so socially draining! All the work at school, and then the homework when you get home. It is hard. I don’t get to just relax all day like you. And put down the damn hourglass before you break it!”

“Woah, woah, woah! Protecting the city don’t just happen on it’s own, you know. I train super hard, I wouldn’t have time for pointless schoolwork. I just don’t see what’s so important about it. You act like school is all that matters to you” Leo’s smug smile faded and he shrugged, still carelessly playing with the hourglass.

“It’s not that easy! I have to care. I mean…God, you couldn’t walk a day in my shoes.”

“Oh, yeah? I’d love to see you walk a mile as a hero.” Leo challenged, smirking.

“If you knew what I go through and how hellishly unfair it is for you to even say that! Put that down!” You grabbed the other handle of the hourglass, trying to yank it away only for Leo to yank right back and leaving you in a tug-of-war.

“Puh-lease! I’d love to be in school all day without a care in the world besides some homework!” Leo’s smile turned into an annoyed, offended look.

“If you only saw the world my way for one day.” You laughed in disbelief at his dismissive, arrogant attitude, “Let go!” You pulled harder at your side of the hourglass, closing your eyes tightly.

A bright pink light filled the room and there was a buzzing sound, but you both were too angry to pay much mind before it faded away.

The hourglass hit the floor, but the glass didn’t shatter. The only part that broke was the small shard of glowing mystic metal, it fell out onto the floor with a small clink.

“Look what you did! I swear you act like such a child!” You groaned, looking back up and seeing…yourself?

“Oh, really, Y/N? I’m a…” Leo looked up and saw…himself?

You both rubbed your eyes and looked back up, blinking a few times, but you were seeing correctly. Whether you believed it or not, you had switched bodies and were staring back at yourselves.

“WHAT THE FU-”

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise leo #rise donnie #rottmnt #tmnt #rise mikey #rise raph #rottmnt x reader #rise donatello #rise leonardo x reader #rise leo x reader #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leonardo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #rise of the tmnt x reader #rise of tmnt x reader #rise of tmnt #rise april #rottmnt april

[beastofburdenxo]

Raising Catherine Chapter 4

True feelings have come out, and Tommy takes what is his.

SMUT MINORS DNI 2.1k words. Tags: Fingering, praise, dirty talk, possessive Tommy, multiple orgasms, P in V, unprotected sex, first time, pet names, innocence kink

Tommy didn’t sleep well that night, but that is nothing new. He kept his arm around his girl all night, keeping her close. Part of him was relieved that the feelings he had were mutual, the other part he felt like such a dirty old man. In a way, things were even more complicated now. Now what? Do they date now? After pretty much raising her? Do they get married? Do they keep this a secret? How will the family take this? He didn’t know what to do. He partly hoped that she doesn’t remember what happened last night, and things can be somewhat normal, for her anyways. Things will never be the same for Tommy now regardless. Catherine moves in her sleep, turning towards tommy now. She wiggles closer to him, putting her head on his bare chest with a sigh. She softly kisses his chest, “Are you awake Tommy?” she gently asks. He strokes her hair. “Now you know the answer to that love, I don’t sleep much. How are you feeling?”  

“I’m alright I guess; I slept like the dead. My head feels funny though.” Tommy chuckles, “That’s the whiskey for you, I’m just glad you're not sick to your stomach.” he pauses, deciding the route he should go with this, “You remember your party, don’t you? Or did Arthur have you three sheets to the wind?” he joked. “No, I remember it. The pretty cake Polly made, the music, the dancing. I remember climbing into bed with you and you were all grumpy about it.” She averted her eyes, not wanting to say more in case it was all a drunken dream. He showed her his hand, “I broke a pen all over me, and you tried to clean me up half asleep and drunk.” he smiled, kissing her forehead, “I believe the rest of it I'll have to just wear off.” He notices her faraway look, and nudges her, “Hey now, what it is?” Catherine lets out a shaky breath. “Did I do something wrong last night, Tommy? I feel like something happened. I remember feeling really good in your bed, and you came out of nowhere, and you were all happy....” 

Tommy grabs her chin, making eye contact. “You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. I promise. You just had a happy dream about me last night, and I accidentally walked in on it. No big deal, you are a big girl now, it’s normal.” Her face turns crimson imagining what Tommy walked in on. Tommy holds her tight, whispering, “You looked so pretty love, like an angel. I didn’t want to scare you, so I let you have your moment. When I heard my name come out of your mouth, it felt like my body was on fire. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. So innocent for me. Oh, Cathy, I love you so much. You have no idea.” Silent tears fell down Catherine’s cheeks at his confession. “I love you too, Tommy. I've wanted you since I was 16. No other man cares about me like you do. You are always there, for whatever I need. I’d be so good to you, Tommy. I’ll take care of the house, the cooking, hell I'll even light your smokes for you...” Tommy interjects, wiping the tears from her eyes, “What are you telling me, Cathy love?” Sniffling, she replies, “I’m telling you I don’t want no other man, Tommy, I want you. I don’t want to leave here and marry off; I want to be your little girl forever. Please keep me, Tommy. Please.”  

Tommy sits up, pulling her onto his lap, “You’ll always be my little girl, no matter what. Honestly, I've been dreading the day that you would leave me. If being by my side would make you happy, then you’ve got it. It's an honor and privilege taking care of you, love, and I'll do it till the day I die. You do realize that this isn’t normal right? That people will talk?” Cathy buries her face in the crook of his neck, “People already talk, Tommy, I hear it. And I don’t care. I really don’t. Why do you think the townspeople leave me alone? Because I belong to you, Tommy Shelby.” Tommy gently pulls her face towards his own, lips almost touching, “Say that again, sweetheart.” She gazes into his bright electric eyes, “I belong to you, Tommy Shelby. I am yours.” She leans forward, their lips finally touching. A soft moan comes out of Tommy, finally this is happening. Her kisses are just as sweet as she is. After a while of passionate making out, she breaks apart from his mouth, “That was my first kiss, you know.” She shyly admits with a giggle. He kisses her neck, making his way up to her ear. The fact that he will be her first everything is extremely arousing to him. She really does belong to him, now and forever. He purrs in her ear, “Did you like it love?” With a gasp at feeling his mouth on her earlobe, she replies, “Yes, Tommy.” He moans in her neck at her admission, “There is so much more to enjoy with me, love. Can I make you feel good?” 

Her hips aimlessly grind on his leg at his words, dying for friction. “Yes, but I don’t know what to do, you’ll have to help me.” Her lack of experience is making her nervous now. Tommy rubs her sides as he is back to kissing her pretty face, “It’s okay, I've got you sweetheart. Just enjoy me, I'll do all the work, love. Here, let me help you out.” He grabs her hips and moves her back and forth on his leg with more pressure than before. Nice and slow, she is already leaking onto his leg, and he can feel it. His face moves to her chest, inches from her hard nipples, demanding attention. “Does that feel good?” he asks her. She is in her own little world, so he doesn’t get a reply. The look of total pleasure on her face is answer enough. With a chuckle he mumbles to himself, “I’ll take that as a yes.” as he takes her nipple in his mouth. The new sensation brings her back to reality as she grips his hair with a cry of his name. Between his soaked leg, and hearing her whimper his name, it takes everything in him not to come in his pants. “Oh god, you're so wet for me, I think you are ready for more aren’t you? Raise up a little love, let me give you some more.”  

She shakily raises up, as his hand goes between her legs, pushing her panties to the side. “I’m going to gently put one finger inside love, and you are going to move up and down it. Just ride my finger for me, okay? Can you do that sweetheart?” She nods as she kisses him with need. His strong finger gently slides into her, her walls fluttering at the intrusion. “That’s it love, good job. So warm and wet for me, just like that.” he moans, “Ride my fingers angel, you can do it.” Catherine slowly moves up and down, getting used to this new sensation. Tommy’s finger feels so good inside her, she wants more though. He looks at her face full of lust for him, “I think you can take another one, don’t you?” He slides another finger in, she gasps at the filling stretch. “Just ride my fingers, sweetheart, let it feel good. This is all for you.” She moves with more confidence at his encouragement. Tommy is watching her in amazement. “Such a pretty girl for me. That's it, love, do what feels good to you.” His thumb finds her clit, gently rubbing her as she rides. She lets out a long moan as her thighs begin to shake. “T-T-Tommy...” She sputters out as her high begins to build. “Yes, sweetheart, I'm right here. Let it go. Let it all go.” He growls in her ear at feeling her squeeze his fingers, “I’ve got something even bigger for you love, I'm all yours. Let me have it sweetheart, let it go.”  

Catherine falls apart at his words, collapsing into his chest. Tommy wraps his other arm around her as his fingers stay inside her. She cries his name repeatedly, as she comes all over his lap. “Yes, angel, there you go. I know you needed that, huh?” He gently pushes her onto the bed, as he takes what little clothes she still has on off her body. “You are so beautiful, all for me, right?” She jerks slightly in aftershocks of her orgasm, face flushed in pleasure. “Yes, Tommy, all for you. I’m all for you, all yours.” Tommy takes his pants off and kneels in front of Catherine, his hard cock throbbing for her, pointing at his navel. He slowly strokes it, as Catherine can’t take her eyes away from it. “This is what you do to me, love.” he moans, “This is what you do. You turn me on so bad, you have no idea, sweetheart.” She opens her legs as he comes nearer. Both are dripping in need for each other, as she reaches out to touch him. “No sweetheart, don’t touch,” he tells her, “I won’t last with your soft little hands, I must be inside you. You can touch me all you want later, okay?” She smiles up at him, as he raises one of her legs to his hip. She is fully exposed to him now, as he takes his cock and rubs it between her lips and on her clit. They both moan at the touch. “Tommy... it feels so big. It won’t fit!” He bends down to kiss her lips, holding her face. “Yes, it will love, I'll be gentle I promise. You can do it, you’re my girl right? All mine?”  

“Yes, all yours, Tommy.” She gasps as the head enters her, stretching her more than his fingers ever could. She claws at his shoulders as the discomfort rises. “Easy, sweetheart, I've got you. It's okay,” he coos as he gives her gentle kisses, “Such a big girl for me, my big girl.” He rubs her thighs to distract her from the pain. “Tommy... it hurts!” Catherine cries, as he is almost fully inside her. “I know baby, I'm sorry. You are just so little. Do you want me to stop? The worst part is almost over.” Tommy kisses her neck as the last inch is finally inside. “There you go, sweetheart, I'm in. You did so good for me, love. Such a good girl.” Tommy stays still, letting her get used to him, giving her praises and kisses to help relax her. “Oh, angel, you feel so good. So little wrapped around me. My big girl, all for me. Relax, sweetheart. I’m right here, I've got you, forever. I'm not going anywhere.” Catherine finally relaxes at the intrusion, gazing into his loving ocean eyes as he stays inside her. She strokes his sharp cheekbones, “I’m okay, Tommy, you can move now.” With a deep passionate kiss, he slowly pulls halfway out and slowly back in. Tommy moans her name, “You take me so well, fuck. I’ll do anything to take care of you, I promise, I'd kill for you, love, you know that?” All Catherine can do is moan and say his name, the new sensations overwhelming her small body.  

“All mine, you're my girl, no one else will have you. You belong to me, I'm the only man that can make you feel like this. I’m the only one that can make you come like this. Do you hear me, love?” He growls as he hits that undiscovered spot inside her. “Yes, Tommy, yes, I’m all yours, all yours. Please Tommy, I love you!” Catherine’s back arches as she comes for the second time that morning, screaming his name. “Oh fuck, I love you too!” Tommy hit his release, tears in his eyes at how good it feels. She has been officially claimed by Tommy Shelby, she is his and he is hers, now and forever. He gently pulls out of her sore body, pulling her to him. “That was even more amazing than I could have ever imagined,” Tommy mumbled sleepily, “I love you, Cathy. You aren’t going anywhere now, most definitely. You are more addicting than any opium.” He kisses her forehead, as she chuckles, “You can’t get rid of me Mr. Shelby even if you wanted to, you are forever stuck with me, you said it yourself! I don’t want anyone else.” She rubs his sweaty chest as they both drift off to sleep. Just how it should be, Tommy and his little girl. Forever.  

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x fem!reader

[itsphoenix0724]

Meet Me On The Ice (Azriel x reader)~Chapter 2

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.3k

MMOTI masterlist

A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! I've been working on this series for a while, and I'm glad people are excited to read it! I've decided to make a tag list for this series because so many people asked for it last time. I've never done one before so I hope I do it right <3

DISCLAIMER: I am not a figure skater or a hockey player, so while I'm trying to be as accurate as possible, it's likely some things may not be correct and/or are bent a little to fit the plot!

You find Azriel on the ice at five pm sharp, his hands tucked in the pockets of a Velaris Univeristy hoodie. His eyes flick over you, almost with disgust, as you approach with a box tucked under your arm. 

“We’re not going on the ice today. Even if we were you can’t wear those.” You gesture to the well-loved hockey skates on his feet, and mark how his eyes narrow. 

“What’s wrong with my skates?” He asks, immediately on the defense, crossing his arms. 

It makes him seem impossibly bigger.  

“Nothing Azriel, if you’re playing a hockey game, but we’re not playing a hockey game.” You shake the box in your hands once before handing it over to him. The pair of shiny black figure skates sit in the box and Azriel takes one skate out running his scarred hand gently over the blade with a musician’s grace. “You should break them in before we actually get on the ice.” 

“They’re heavier than I thought they would be,” Az tucks the skates gently back in the box and moves past you to get off the ice. He sits down on the bench, leaning down to undo his laces. “Where are we practicing then, if we’re not going on the ice?’ He looks up at you from under the dark fringe of his hair, and you’re struck with his beauty for a moment. 

“We’re going to the studio in the back.” You make a gesture with your head as he stands, crowding your space. You have to crane your neck to look up at him, and you can’t even see around the expanse of his shoulders. Leading back him to the studio you walk in tense silence. Your coach, a beloved old lady named Alis, waiting infront of the mirror examines Azriel like a piece of meat. 

“So, this is who you’re finishing the season with?” She looks him up and down with mild interest as you dip your chin in confirmation, setting your bag down to start warming up. Alis circles like a predator as Azriel watches with confused disinterest. “Nice build at least, looks strong if a little bulky for my taste,” she mutters. Azriel whips his head back at you in defense, but all you can do is breathe a sigh of relief. Getting Alis to agree to train someone other than Lucien was half the battle. “Alright, stretch, then I’ll see what I’m working with. Hopefully, we can piece together some semblance of a routine,” She shakes her head as you turn to Azriel. 

“Do you want me to help you stretch?” You question and Azriel’s brows raise high, a smirk across his lips for just a moment at an insinuation you didn’t imply. Your cheeks tinge with 

pink, and his eyes dip to your cheeks, satisfaction from rattling you dances in his eyes. “Not like that obviously,” You scoff, rolling your eyes and busying yourself with digging out your water bottle so you have an excuse to turn away from him. 

“I don’t think I need to stretch like this is a ballet class, I can stretch myself” He shakes his head and you roll your eyes. 

“Fine, suit yourself.” Let him dig his grave. You know he’s doing you a favor, but he doesn’t have to be so condescending about it. You fall into a spilt to stretch your legs and Azriel looks at you out of the corner of his eye. You finish your warm-up, and Az remains leaning against the wall, stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking. He stretched his arms out a little and nothing else, so it’s his fault if he’s sore tomorrow. 

“Alright,” Alis claps her hands together once, and both your attention’s snap to her like a knee-jerk reaction. You guess being coached vigorously for years can do that to a person. “Let’s see if we can get something together. Young man, stand here please.” She gestures to a spot on the floor and then calls your name, telling you to stand infront of Azriel. 

You’ve never been so close to him before.

Your entire back pressed against his front, the sight in the mirror sends you a strange feeling in your stomach. His frame dwarfs you easily, the broad planes of his shoulders and the muscles of his arms strain against the compression shirt he had on for practice. 

You could climb him like a tree

The thought hits you so suddenly that you feel the heat flood your cheeks as you finally meet hazel eyes in the mirror. If he noticed you ogling him, he thankfully says nothing. 

You go over some transition moves which go shockingly okay, Az picks up on the rhythm surprisingly quickly body flowing like a river easily through the steps. You make a mental note to ask Rhys if Az plays an instrument. Alis looks impressed for a first practice, and you two were so concentrated you haven’t bitten each other’s heads off yet. 

Until you start to try a couple of lifts. 

Everything goes downhill from there. Az manages to get you in the air a couple of times, but it’s never stable. Either you’re too tense or his grip is all wrong, and you’ve hit the ground and Azriel’s shoulder too many times to count. You both are frustrated and then the harsh words start. 

“Can you just fucking relax already so we can get this over with? Aren’t you supposed to know what you’re doing?” he growls out after Alis calls for a water break. 

“Maybe if you could just get your stupid hands in the right position I could fucking relax,” You glower down at Azriel’s scarred hands and he shoves them in the pockets of his sweats angrily. You feel a wave of guilt instantly because that was possibly the worst thing you could say. 

“It’s not working because you don’t trust each other,” Alis mutters, rolling her eyes as she tries to figure out something on her cellphone. “I’m going to suggest maybe spending some time together outside of this. To build some trust between the two of you.” You and Azriel eye each other with equal distaste. “Think about it, we’re done here for the day.” You’re frustrated, you’re sweating, and you’ve hit your hip enough times you think it’s been permanently bruised. You pack up your bag slinging the duffel over your shoulder, he copies your actions putting his new skates to the bottom of his hockey bag. You leave the rink together in silence, breathing in the chill of the night's dark air, letting it calm the flames of your ever-growing temper. You want to go home, you want to bury yourself under mountains of pillows and ice cream and scream at the unfairness of the world. The last thing you need is a group of drunk hockey players rallying after a loss. 

And of fucking course they’re right next to your car. 

Azriel’s about to walk in the other direction to his car, but you in a blind panic grab his arm. 

“Walk me to my car.” You plead, eyes widening at the sound of a bottle smashing against the ground. “Please.” Azriel's eyes narrow in confusion before they flick over to the crowd of rowdy men. He nods once and you begin the trek across the parking lot with a sizeable distance between the two of you. They still stop and look at you, eyeing you like a piece of meat. Azriel notices, in a quiet observant way of his. He moves closer to you slinging one arm around your waist, it burns through your clothes like a brand. They wisely back off then with all of Az’s towering physique wrapped around you like a guard dog. He opens your door for you and shoves his phone in your hand, still eyeing the group like he’s about to pounce. 

“Put your number in my phone, it’ll be easier for the future.” He’s still looking at the guys out of the corner of his eyes as you type your number. “Drive home safely,” Az mutters. 

“You too,” you respond. You settle into your car, and Azriel waits patiently for you to back out and drive away before walking to his own car.

Taglist:

sidthedollface2, bionic-donut, lyinginameadow, feyretopia, natashachelsea, going-through-shit, mika-no-sekai-blog, hijabi-desi-bookworm, brandywineeeee

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #Meet Me On The Ice

[blueraineshadows]

Blood Bound Part Five

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

Sebastian heads into the unknown to break MC out of Azkaban. MC struggles to adjust to the outside world. Leander descends deep underneath London to scope out the illegal duelling ring.

15k words. Tags: NSFW / threat / blood / violence / angst / unresolved sexual tension / torture / organised crime / PTSD / anxiety

Chapter Master List and AO3

Mutuals taglist at the end 💖✨️

Five: The Prince, the Villain, and the Maiden Fair

Sebastian 

Looking at the map Black Dahlia had made one last time, Sebastian was fairly confident that he could find his way through the corridors of Azkaban towards MC's cell. The hum of anticipation throbbed through him as he folded the parchment, tucked it into his jacket pocket, and touched his fingers to the blood amulet. Clenching his jaw, he glanced across to where Rosier stood waiting, dressed all in black like him, a serious expression on his pretty face. 

He was going to get MC. This time, when he arrived at the cell door, she would be real and not a phantom in a memory. 

“I'm ready when you are, mate,” Rosier said, holding out his hand. 

Sebastian nodded, reaching out to grasp Rosier along his lower arm, and Rosier grasped him the same way. Their eyes met, an acknowledgement passing between them that they were about to travel into a highly dangerous and horrific place, breaking Wizarding law to bring out a convicted prisoner. 

“Let's go,” Sebastian said firmly, his stomach twisting viciously as he visualised the reception chamber from the memory and Disapparated them both with a crack.

The first thing that struck Sebastian was the chilling oppressiveness, his stomach catching up from the long distance Apparition as he stumbled into existence inside the Auror reception chamber, Rosier catching his breath beside him. As his eyes swung about the room, recognising it from the pensieve memory, he shivered at the utter desolation and icy chill that crept up his neck.

“Well, this is nice,” Rosier huffed, ruffling his hair as he gazed around. “I love what they have done with the place.”

Throwing Rosier a dark look, Sebastian stepped up to the signing in book on the counter, his finger brushing over the column of entries written by Prewett. He had been here nearly every day for the last few weeks, the last entry only yesterday. Adrenaline was pulsing through Sebastian, his hands curling into fists as he turned his gaze towards the door that led into the prison proper.

“Have your wand at the ready,” he said quietly, slipping his own out. “Those Dementors will likely be on us straight away.”

“Have you ever come up against one before?”

Sebastian swallowed as he looked at his partner in crime and shook his head. “No, but I’ve practised the Patronus charm plenty enough,” he said, gripping the handle of his wand tightly. “I hope you have, too.”

Rosier’s blue eyes darkened with a memory, and his gaze flicked down. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m up against. Dementors came for my father. I was just a kid, but I’ll never forget it.”

The leaden ball of grief that Sebastian carried in his own chest tugged sharply as he took in the shadows on Rosier’s face. He knew what it was like to lose a parent so young. He nodded and turned his gaze back towards the door, lifting to pat his hand against Rosier’s back in a gesture of understanding.

“We get to the cell, get MC out, and then we get the fuck out of this place. Alright?”

“This girl better be worth it, mate. That’s all I can say,” Rosier said, readying himself.

Sebastian felt his throat constrict, his eyes hardening. “Trust me. She is worth it.”

The frigid weight of despair grew heavier as they walked swiftly down the corridor, the fire sconces casting flickering shadows in their wake as they approached MC’s wing, the distant mournful screams of those trapped here making Sebastian’s heart thud rapidly beneath his ribs. Trying to shut out the sounds became almost impossible as they entered the colossal prison wing, barred cell doors offering unsettling glimpses into life here that he tried to avert his eyes from. 

Above their heads swooped the tattered robes of the guards, the chilling rattle of their death breaths spurring Sebastian on quicker, his own breathing harsh and tight as two Dementors broke free from their pack and rushed downwards towards him and Rosier.

“Expecto Patronum!” Rosier cast, his arm thrust upwards, a burst of white erupting from his wand in a swelling arc. The Dementors hesitated, retreating back towards the high ceiling, their shifting shapes being swallowed in the darkness beyond.

“It’s not much further,” Sebastian muttered, already looking forward to getting out of here. He held the back of his hand against his nose, breathing through his mouth to avoid the stench of abandoned humans. The true horror of Azkaban was laid bare as his boots scraped against the dark stone, eyes checking the numbers above the doors until he came to the one he needed, and he slowed his step.

“Is this it?” Rosier asked quietly.

A rasping chuckle sounded from the darkness, and Sebastian glanced to the opposite side of the corridor, the gnarled hands of an old crone grasping the iron bars of her door. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of her, repulsed by the gaping maw of her mouth and the filth of the ragged prison garb she wore. This one had been here a long time and was still clinging to mortality by a thread of madness.

“Merlin’s bollocks,” Rosier hissed, flinching back. He visibly shivered, and the woman cackled even louder. “That ain’t her, is it?”

“Don’t be a twat,” Sebastian scowled, grabbing Rosier by the front of his coat and shuffling him away from the crone and towards MC’s door. 

He was impatient to see her, desperate to get her out of here, his guilt making the oppression feel thicker than it had any right to be. With his heart in his mouth, he stepped up to the cold iron bars of her door and peered into the gloom, his eyes sweeping the cell. A slight crease formed on his brow as there appeared to be no sign of her.

“MC,” he whispered, taking hold of a bar of the door and gasping as it swung on its hinges. It was unlocked. 

Stomach plummeting, icy fear prickling the back of his neck, he yanked the door open and stepped into the cell, calling her name louder, but the room was empty. It was impossible. Panic gripped his throat, and he darted back out to check the cell number again, certain it was the right place. Tugging out the piece of parchment, he double-checked the details, his chest so tight his breathing sounded too loud to his own ears. He was in the right place.

“What’s going on?” Rosier asked, his eyes glancing up and down the corridor nervously, his throat bobbing.

“She should be here!” Sebastian said, returning to the cell as though MC would have appeared in the seconds he had been gone, but the room remained stubbornly empty.  A bucket and a mug stood on the floor, and on a stone ledge, next to a dirty blanket, was a small glass potion bottle, the stopper discarded beside it. “Where is she?”

Rosier shrugged, glancing around the cell himself, the cold squalor of it making his cheeks paler than usual. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yes,” Sebastian snapped, his fingers wrinkling the parchment as he felt his fear shift into fury. His cheeks flushed with it, eyes so dark they glittered as he strode out of the cell. “If that bitch, Black Dahlia, has tricked us, then she is going to die a very slow and painful death.”

Rosier was close on his heels, worry creasing his brow as he glanced up at the gathering interest above their heads. “Seb, we need to hurry up,” he muttered. “We need to get out of here.”

Grabbing at his hair in frustration, Sebastian realised that he couldn’t even search the prison in case she had been moved to a different cell. It made him almost choke. MC could be anywhere in this vast tomb of horror, and he had neither the time or the resources to hunt for her.

Fear and fury twisted together and he felt like screaming, the burn of it choking up his throat as he swung his arm out, wand lighting up and blasting a huge ball of fire down the corridor in his rage. The prisoners screamed and yelled, the clanging sound of tin cups on bars filling the air and the rasping, maddening cackle of the crone in her cell.

Ignoring Rosier’s attempts to calm him down, Sebastian rounded on the scrawny hag, his eyes narrowing. She stared at him through the bars, her eyes lit with gleeful madness.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” she crooned, wheezing with delight, her withered frame shaking with mirth. “All these pretty boys after the maiden fair.”

Sebastian stalked towards her, his wand up. The old bitch didn’t even flinch, her eyes pale and glowing with mischief as she eyed him. “Where is the girl from the cell opposite?” He demanded.

Her toothless grin was hideous, and his fingers flexed on his wand, his rage searing through his blood. MC had been within his grasp, and now she had been plucked out of thin air. Gone. 

“Tell me!” He yelled. “Where did she go?”

“Bloody hell, mate, easy,” Rosier said, stepping up beside him. “How is she going to know? She’s fucking insane. Look at her.”

The hag tittered, her gnarled fingers clutching excitedly at her bars. “Every maiden fair must have a prince to rescue her,” she rambled. She began to sway, her smile almost idiotic. “But, princes and men can be fickle. He left her, made her scream like he’d torn her heart asunder.”

“What does that mean?” Sebastian demanded, his breaths now shuddering into his lungs. “Who left her?” 

She went quiet, her eyes sly as she peered through the bars, her mouth curving into a wicked grin. “This one is jealous. Perhaps he is the villain here. He wants her for himself, but the prince came and took her away.”

Prewett’s name written in the book flashed up behind Sebastian’s eyes. Along with the memory from the pensieve and the sound of Prewett’s name on MC’s lips with that desperate look in her sunken gaze. Teeth clenching so tight it hurt, Sebastian’s fury seemed to flicker in front of his eyes. The very thought of Leander Prewett whisking MC away from under his nose like a knight on a white horse made his blood boil. That wasn’t how things were meant to be.

Why would he take MC out of here? It didn't make sense. 

This pathetic witch and her fairy tale taunts were too much, his jealous temper flaring in a white, hot spark that fizzed down his arm as he thrust his wand towards her. Her eyes screamed of madness, and it curdled his blood, the need to expel the horror made the curse burst from his lips.

“Crucio!”

Her howls of pain filled his ears, her skeletal face grotesque as she reeled back from the door, clattering to the floor like a bag of bones as red sparks flickered in the darkness. He waited for the satisfaction to come, but it didn't. The sight of the wretch bucking and screaming did nothing to ease his horror or his fury. Inflicting agony on this pathetic creature wouldn't bring MC back here, and yet he held the curse on her, trying to syphon out his pain. 

Those he loved kept being stolen from him, and he wasn't sure how many more times he could take it. 

“Bloody hell!” Rosier grabbed him, trying to pull Sebastian’s wand arm back. “What are you doing?”

Sebastian had lost sense of what was going on around him, his fury so thick and hot that he shoved Rosier back, slamming his hand against cold iron with a scream of rage. “Who took her? Where is MC?”

Gasping and drooling, the old crone trembled and clawed at the stone floor, her eyes rolling as she made guttural moans of pain despite the curse no longer holding her. Sebastian’s lip was curled in disgust, his eyes blazing whilst his heart seemed to squeeze behind his ribs. It felt like it had been drained bloodless. How could MC not be in her cell? How could she have left this place without him knowing about it? 

A cold thought entered his head, wiping out his fury in an instant, and he stilled, eyes horror struck as he glanced back at MC’s cell.

Was she dead? 

Immediate denial slammed through him, but he bent forward, unable to draw breath as the possibility refused to be quieted. He winced as his knees hit the hard stone, all colour draining from his face as he shook his head. Desperate now, he grabbed the bars of the hag’s door, his breathing shallow.

“Did she walk out of here?” He asked, his voice switching to pleading now. “Please, tell me she walked out. She can’t be…no. She isn’t dead. I would know.”

His hand fumbled into his pocket, fingers caressing over the bloodstone amulet, seeking reassurance. Surely, if MC were to be dead, the stone would cease to hold true to the pact. It would shatter into pieces, no longer useful or functional. Much like his heart if he ever lost her.

The hag turned her head, her bloodshot eyes fixing on him with a stare that made him feel even colder, goosebumps shivering along his arms and up his neck. Her mouth worked as she tried to speak, her chin slick with drool and blood where she had smashed her face when she fell. To Sebastian’s horror, she began to laugh. A rasping, gurgling chuckle that escalated into screeching howls of mad cackling, her head thrown back as she clutched at her wasted midriff.

Strong hands gripped him under his arms, hefting him upwards. “For fuck sake, Sallow. Get up!” Rosier berated, pulling Sebastian up to his feet. “We’ve got to run. Now!”

Recoiling from the mad wretch in her cell, Sebastian forced himself to look up, his eyes widening at the gathered mass of Dementors circling above them. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Come on,” Rosier said, pulling on his arm, his wand raised upwards. “Run, for Merlin’s sake!”

They ran, boots thudding on the stone as the other cells passed by in a blur, their breaths beginning to mist from the spreading ice of the Dementors presence. Wraiths began to swoop downwards, and the terrifying rattle of their breathing sounded loud in their ears. Sebastian saw the door to the Auror’s chambers and grabbed Rosier by the arm, hauling him towards it. He felt the brush of tattered robes ghost near his ear, and he ducked, turning swiftly on the spot and jabbing his wand upwards.

With a fierce glare on his face, he allowed his mind to fill with memories of better days, soft dreamy images of his friends at school, Anne running through the fields in Feldcroft with her hair wild about her rosy cheeks. He thought of nights secreted away in the Undercroft with a good book and even better company, summers with his parents sailing on the lochs, and the addictive taste of kisses with the girl who had stolen his soul at the sweet age of sixteen. 

Better times, happier times, before the darkness had come to claim him. 

“Expecto Patronum!”

The spell burst from his wand with such force he had to clamp two hands around it to hold it steady, the brilliant swell of white light filling the corridor and pressing the Dementors back. As the black wraiths spiralled upwards and away, chased by the white phantom of a leaping fox, Sebastian began to step backwards into the doorway. Rosier watched his Patronus charm with a look of awe on his face, the light of the magic reflecting in his blue eyes.

Slamming the door of the reception chamber open, Sebastian came to a stop before the long counter, bracing his hands against it whilst he caught his breath. Rosier gasped beside him, shaking his head as he planted his hands on his thighs.

“Get us out of here,” he panted. “I am done.”

Sebastian nodded, his gaze catching on the wooden boards hung on the wall opposite him, all the prisoner numbers and their images on display. Eyes moving swiftly, he came to where MC’s prisoner board should have been in the order of cell numbers, and his stomach turned to lead. The board was missing. A blank space with just an iron peg jutting from the stone. She really was gone. 

Dragging the heavy signing-in book towards him, he looked at the last two entries for her prisoner number. Harrington and Prewett, and then Prewett again yesterday. If anyone knew where she was, it was going to be Leander. His eyes narrowed in thought. It was time to have a little chat with Andrew Larson. He needed to get to Leander and fast. 

Taking hold of Rosier’s arm, he nodded and then Disapparated them out, his feet landing on the wooden floorboards of the small room in the Black Rose that he shared with Rosier. With a flick of his wand, he lit the lamp, pushing back the darkness, craving some warmth and normality after the dark oppression of the prison. Slumping in relief and defeat, Sebastian sat down hard on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. How had it gone so horribly wrong?

Rookwood was going to be furious. They had risked their necks going into that prison, and they had come out empty-handed. Solomon had always said he would amount to nothing, and no doubt would side with Ominis and Anne over his choice of companions lately, but to fuck up at something like this. Solomon would be laughing from his grave, no doubt. 

“I always knew you would end up a failure, boy.” 

Shuddering at the darker memories of his childhood struggles, Sebastian shoved them away, his insecurities starting to eat into him. His fury now dissipated, Sebastian felt the ball of grief in his chest swell, and he swallowed through it, rubbing his face at the loss of MC all over again.

“What the fuck was that all about back there, Seb?” Rosier asked, still getting his breath back. “You cast Crucio on that crone, and for what? She was crazy, talking about a load of rubbish. Why get so mad?” 

Sebastian glanced up at Rosier, once again lamenting his need to keep the man at arms length. When people knew too much, they became a liability, and he rather liked Leo. Losing his temper back at the prison had revealed his hand, and he mulled over his words as he looked up at his camp mate. 

“It was fucked up,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I will be lucky if Rookwood doesn't torture my own arse the same way for failing.” 

Rosier studied him, slowly taking a seat on the twin bed opposite Sebastian, drumming his fingers on the faded bedspread. 

“This girl, this MC. Just what, exactly, does she mean to you, Seb?” He asked, drawing his lower lip into his mouth thoughtfully. “You lost your shit when you realised she was gone, and when you mentioned her being dead, you were as white as a sheet. How would you know if she was dead? What's going on? There's more to this, isn't there?” 

Sebastian pressed his fingers to his lips, eyeing Rosier with a sinking realisation that he had definitely revealed too much. He had managed to deflect his questions in the Leaky Cauldron, but Rosier was as smart as a whip, and Sebastian wouldn't be able to fool him for long. With a sigh, he let his hands drop between his thighs, his expression one of defeated exhaustion as he looked at Rosier. He was tired, so very tired of feeling alone.

“She means something to me,” he confessed. “I thought I was going to get her back tonight, and yet her cell was empty. After four long years of waiting, I feel like I just lost her all over again.” 

Rosier closed his eyes and nodded, glancing down at his booted feet for a moment before speaking. “Does Rookwood know?” 

“He probably suspects,” Sebastian admitted. “I've never openly talked about it, only that I know her.” 

“And Lulu?” Rosier lifted his gaze to Sebastian, his eyebrows lifted in enquiry about the beautiful witch. 

Sebastian groaned and shook his head. “She hasn't heard a thing from me about MC, so if she knows anything, it's whatever her father has told her.” 

“Merlin’s beard, Seb. You walk a tight line, don't you?” Rosier smirked. “I've always had the feeling you've got deep secrets. But, I never realised just how close to the edge you walked with Rookwood. Withholding information, fucking his daughter on the sly…are you trying to get yourself killed?”  

Sebastian matched Rosier’s smirk and shrugged. “What's life without a little adventure?” 

“You're a slippery bastard, Sallow,” Rosier huffed, shaking his head. He pushed his fingers through his blonde hair and smiled. “I won't say anything about your prisoner girl. I have to say, though, I'm rather looking forward to meeting her. All this excitement surrounding her, she sounds like fun.” 

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “You'll be keeping your hands to yourself, Rosier,” he warned. “Not only do I know where they've been, it would be a shame to hex them. They are rather useful in a scrap.” 

Rosier laughed, falling back onto his bed and holding his hands up. “I swear to all gods known to man, I won't make a play for her.” 

“Then I guess we can remain friends,” Sebastian smirked, laying back on his own bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling.

A quiet settled over the room as both men processed the last hour or so, shadows of darker memories trying to creep into Sebastian’s thoughts, the echo of the old crones screams pressing on his conscience. 

“MC means that much to you, and yet wasn't she serving time for doing your uncle in?” Rosier asked, turning to look at him.

Sebastian worried at his lower lip, keeping his gaze fixed upwards as he thought about Solomon and his cruel mouth, his swinging fists, and unforgiving eyes. 

“My uncle was a mean bastard,” Sebastian said flatly. “MC was the only one who really understood.” 

She had understood, and she remained at his side. She had bled for him, lied for him, and she had spent four years in that chilling nightmare of a place for him. Seeing the reality of Azkaban and remembering the image of her in that pensieve memory, the leaden ball in his chest that held his guilt and grief seemed to spread into every fibre of his being. Had he really done enough to help her? Her sacrifices were huge in comparison to his efforts to save her, and it weighed heavily on him, his fingers caressing the scar on his palm. 

That old hag had called him a villain of MC's story, and Sebastian had retaliated by hitting her with the Cruciatus curse. A curse he had cast on MC in the Scriptorium in order to save himself. Maybe he was the villain of her life, and the thought was not a comfortable one. Next to him, Prewett would be a knight in shining armour, a prince coming to save the maiden fair. 

“So, she killed him for you?” Rosier asked. The question hung heavy in the air, rather close to the bone in truth. She didn't take Solomon down, but she took the fall. She did it for him. 

“I owe her everything, Leo,” Sebastian said with a sigh. “I've got to find her. Whatever it takes.” 

“Then we find her,” Rosier said with finality. “What's the plan? Are we still going to track this Auror down that you knew?” 

“That's top of the list,” Sebastian said, determination darkening his gaze. “Prewett knows where she is. His name was in that prison ledger, inked by his own fucking hand, and that nasty crone pretty much told us that MC left with a man. It was him. I know it was.” 

“Then that's what we'll do. As long as Rookwood doesn't kill us first.” 

Sebastian threw Rosier a smirk as he adjusted the lumpy pillow under his head. “I'd like to see him try. He talks a big game, but I reckon I could take him easily enough. He'd be too scared to get his gentleman's coat dirty in a real fight. That's why he has men like Carrow around to do the hard work.” 

Rosier chuckled. “Do you reckon you could take Carrow?” 

Sebastian’s grin split his face, his eyes gleaming at the thought. “You're looking at a duelling champion here, mate. I take great pleasure in bringing down bastards like Carrow. I took Prewett down a few times during the duelling matches we used to fight. He might have passed the Auror Program, but I could still take him on.” 

The villain against the white knight. He had never wanted to be a villain. He wanted to be the one MC needed. He would rather be her white knight than bring any more darkness into her life. The shadows of their secrets probably made that impossible, so if he had to, he would take on the darker role. He knew that he would do whatever it took to get her back, especially now, no matter how dark. 

For once, Sebastian wanted the villain to win the maiden fair, his chest aching at the absence of MC. They could rewrite the trope. Together. She should have been here with him tonight, beside him, where he could hold her close. Whether for her comfort or his own, he wasn't sure who needed it more. 

MC

Everything was so clean and bright that her eyes burned in their sockets, her trembling fingers shielding them from the glare of the real world. There were no screams here, no sobbing and wailing, no banging of cups against cold iron. There was just peaceful quietness, the soft sound of the breeze outside the window, and the distant chirp of a bird singing their joy. A fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with warmth that felt like an inferno compared to the cold stone of Azkaban, and yet still MC shivered.

The room she stood in was charming. A picture-perfect image of a country cottage, with an inglenook fireplace and a bowl of fruit on the table. There was a high backed armchair near the fire, similar to those found in the common room, and a settee with deep cushions. Leander had called it a safe house, and she wondered how true that was. It did look soft and warm, inviting, and yet she stood there almost recoiling from it all. 

She felt out of place, fractured, like she had wandered into someone else's dreams, and she did not belong. The soft rug beneath her filthy feet was a strange sensation, her toes curling experimentally into what felt like a guilty pleasure. Eyes brimming with tears from the overwhelming emotions swarming in her chest, MC looked up at the man standing next to her, his fingers slipping from her elbow where he had held her to Apparate. 

How strange to look at Leander now and be wary of his proximity, and yet she also craved for him to be close, to stand right beside her so that he could hold her up should her wobbling knees buckle. It was dangerous to be so dependent on a person. She used to pride herself on being able to stand against whatever life threw at her, but her eyes were drawn to the tall Auror who had whisked her out of captivity, fearing that he might vanish at any moment and leave her lost and alone. Feeling this fragile had her slamming her walls up out of habit, but there were no Dementors here.

She was no longer in Azkaban. She was free. 

The sight of Leander at her cell door after the way he had left her had set her pulse flying, hardly daring to believe he was really there after the way he had said goodbye to her, leaving her screaming for him at her cell door. When he had placed the release parchment into her hands, she had stared at the inked words, trying to make sense of this new turnaround to events. Her cold demand to Harrington in the questioning chamber had earned her freedom, her answers enough to revoke charges and reduce her sentence. The details of the probation seemed like child’s play compared to the horror one faced within the walls of that prison, and she had signed the papers immediately, ignoring the offer of twenty four hours to think about it. What was there to think about? Why stay another day in that hell when she could be free?

Now, though, now that she was out of the dark walls of oppressive cold, she felt the urge to seek out more darkness. It was as though the light would burn her, expose her, and leave her vulnerable. Would her mental walls of protection work out here? Who were her enemies now that she had escaped the malice of the Dementors?

How at ease Leander looked in these lovely surroundings, how neat his clothes, his pretty copper hair shining in the sunlight filtering through the window. Tall, with wide shoulders and slim hips, long graceful fingers, his pale skin sprinkled with dozens of freckles. He stood with confidence, sure of his place in the world, and she envied him. Where did she fit now?

“A Healer will be along shortly to take a look at you. Make sure you are alright,” he said with a soft smile. “There are clean clothes for you in the bedroom and a bath so that you can get cleaned up. The store cupboard is stocked so you won’t go hungry. Would you like me to make you something?”

MC stared at him, her arms wrapped around her midriff as she trembled on the pretty rug, feeling like the ground had been ripped out from under her feet. In the last 24 hours she had been strapped into a chair and questioned, and then he had left her, leaving her sobbing on her cell floor thinking she would be alone in the dark again, and then the appearance of the strange woman in the hooded cloak that had made her question her sanity. 

Now, she was here, with him. He had pulled her out of that darkness, bringing her to an image of domestic bliss. His calmness grated on the frayed edges of her nerves. The choking maelstrom of emotions in her chest seemed to fizz through her veins, and she clenched her hands into fists, her face contorting into fury. The smile slipped from his lips as she glared at him.

“Give me my wand,” she hissed, her eyes glowing with fire. “I don’t care about the stocked cupboard and your bath, I just want my wand.” 

Leander paled, licking his lips as he moved towards her, his hands out. “Your wand isn’t here. It’s still in secure lock up at the Ministry,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, MC.”

Finally, she moved, backing up away from him. Her eyes darted to the side as she sought an exit route, the over stimulation making her mind scream for quiet darkness. “Save your apologies,” she spat, her adrenaline making her shakes become more pronounced as she skirted the settee. His hands reached out again, and she flinched away. “Don’t touch me!”

If he touched her, she would crumble, and she was barely holding up the walls of her defences as it was. It was all so surreal, so outlandish and wrong. She needed her wand. She needed security.  

“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t touch you,” he said, holding his hands up. “But you need to calm down. You are safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you, and this house is warded so nobody can get in or out without permission.”

“So, I am just as much a prisoner here as in Azkaban?” She screeched, her eyes becoming wider, filled with desperate panic. The notion that this might be a trap entered her head, and now she couldn’t shake it, her heart hammering so fast she thought she might pass out. “I can’t do this. I need to get out.”

In her haste to escape, she bumped her leg against a side table, making the lamp there wobble precariously. She stumbled, catching herself on the arm of the settee. She pulsed with the need to flee, to run, to hide. Never would she have imagined that she would miss her cell, but right now, it was the only sanctuary she could think of, encased in the dark walls.

“Where are you going?” He asked, hurrying around the back of the settee to cut her off.

“Away from you,” she ground out, reaching to grab a cushion from the settee, the soft plushness of it a shock to her hands. The urge to squeeze it was almost like an ache, but she ignored it, heaving the cushion towards Leander’s head as she scrambled in the opposite direction to him.

Of course, he caught it, tossing it aside as he hurried after her. Her feet thudded across the wooden floor towards a door, her hands grabbing for the handle, but she was infuriatingly weak, and he caught up to her easily. To his credit, he didn’t touch her. He just slammed his hands against the door to prevent her from opening it, his body towering over hers and effectively pinning her against the wood.

“Please, don’t run from me,” he said, an edge to his voice. “I would never hurt you, MC. I meant it when I said that.”

Panting, her trembling frame pressed up against the door, she refused to look up at him. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands wrapped around the door handle. Her legs were shaking so badly she feared she would fall, her ears roared with her pulse and she felt the tell tale sting of tears behind her eyes.

“You lied,” she rasped. The walls around the cavern in her chest cracked, a whimper leaving her lips as she sagged against the door, her fingers bone white with her grip around the handle. “You left me.”

Leander’s hands slid slowly from the door, and he backed up, her eyes blinking up towards him and catching the look of devastation on his face, his soft lips parted. He shook his head in denial, his gaze one of sad regret. “You will never know how hard it was to walk away from you like that.”

MC squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear that softness, that look on his face that sent tendrils of warmth around her ribs, seeking a way in. She couldn’t let him in, not again. He had walked away, and left her feeling so hollow. Her pride was a broken thing, her head was spinning with a thousand thoughts, and there was still too much light in the room.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, she twisted the door handle and pulled the door open to reveal the well stocked food larder. The irony was not lost on her as she stared at tins of food, a basket of bread sat on a shelf, and herbs were hanging from hooks along the far wall. She huffed a laugh of disbelief at the sight, a cracked chuckle that quickly shifted into tears that scalded her cheeks as they leaked from her eyes.

“MC…”

“I don’t know how to do this,” she sobbed, bringing her hands to her face. 

Gentle hands on her shoulders had her turning on the spot, the firmness of his chest pressed against her cheek as his arms enveloped her, holding her in an embrace that dissolved the rest of her defences. Her fingers curled into his waistcoat, her tears leaking into the snowy whiteness of his shirt as she breathed in his scent, something that was becoming so familiar to her. 

“You won’t be doing this alone,” he assured her, his hands sliding up the length of her spine until he was cupping the back of her head. “I’m your probation Auror, remember? And I think we both know that this has become more than just a job to me, MC. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

The ancient power that slumbered in her veins meant that she didn’t really need anyone to protect her. If anything, she was more dangerous than the worst of the Ashwinders once she had a wand in her hand. But, for now, she let Leander hold her and tell her that she would be safe. He took her hand and led her to another door, opening it to reveal a bedroom beyond. He paused in the doorway and nodded for her to go in.

“I’ll let you get yourself sorted out,” he said, his hand lingering on hers before he stepped back. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything. Alright?”

Backing into the room, she stared up at him. The risks he had taken, the kindness he had shown, it was more than any other Auror would have done for her. It was true. This was more than just another assigned job for him. Again, she was reminded of how dangerous it was to become close to him. How addictive his warmth was becoming, and whilst craving just that, she was also wary of it.

As the door clicked shut, her hands and forehead pressed against it, a stifled moan of grief tried to escape her lips. She didn’t even know what she was grieving for, but she felt so empty, so heavy and yet faded, like she would drift away into nothing.

Turning, she gazed around a bedroom, just as cosy and warm as the main room. There was a double bed made up with white sheets and thick blankets, and a vase of flowers sat on the bedside table beside a stack of books. Light bathed the space through a window that looked out across fields, the gentle roll of hills in the distance. She had no idea where she was. She could be anywhere. 

Gasping in her breaths, she hurried to the window and gripped the floral curtains, yanking them closed to block out the light. The room darkened, but it wasn’t enough. Tight panic gripped her chest again, and she dived for a shadowed corner beside a wardrobe, drawing up her knees and wrapping her arms tightly around her legs. Shivering and gasping, she pressed her forehead to her knees and bit back her scream, tears flooding her eyes.

Maybe she wasn’t as free as she first thought. The darkness still held her in its grip, and Leander could only do so much to hold her shadows at bay. 

….*....

Stomach hollow with hunger, and her eyes tight and raw from tears, MC sat on the seat before the dressing table and stared at her reflection. The girl who stared back was a stranger. In the dim light of the room, her pale skin looked ghostly, drawn tight over the jut of her bones. Her hair was long and lifeless, but it was her eyes that chilled her the most. She recognised them as her own, but the haunted darkness that dwelled in them spoke of loneliness and loss. The girl she once knew was long gone. 

She looked down at her hands, her fingers so pink and clean, the skin puckered like dried fruit from soaking in warm bath water for so long. It had taken three baths to get her clean. The first left the water so black she'd climbed out almost straight away. By the third, she had just sunk under the warmth of the rose scented water, waiting for the comforting feeling to seep into her bones, but it didn't.

After the fire of her tantrum earlier, she now felt numb. She had cried until her chest had hurt, rocking back and forth, her fingers tracing constantly over the scar on her palm. At last, her memories could flood her mind, no longer at risk from being sucked away by the Dementors kiss. Her longing to look upon Sebastian one more time was joined by the fear that he wouldn't even know her, that he had moved on with his life and she was just some girl he used to know. 

There was no one else in the world to wait for her. She had no family, and she was sure her friends from Hogwarts would want nothing to do with a murderer. Sebastian was the only one who knew her truth. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture him, the boy she knew. 

Sighing softly, she shook her head and looked into the mirror again. No longer a child, she was a woman, and Sebastian would be a man. No doubt he looked different now, perhaps taller and stronger, like Leander. She imagined he was just as handsome, though. Four years was a long time, and she wondered if he had found love with someone new. 

Could she blame him if he had? The years stolen from them stretched out like a lifetime. Surely, he would be a different person now, just as she didn’t recognise the girl staring back at her in the looking glass. 

Pushing the thought aside before she began to cry again, she stood, smoothing her hands down the front of the pale blue blouse she had chosen from the wardrobe. She couldn't deny the simple pleasure of clean clothes, although she had left the corset where she had found it and chose trousers instead of a skirt. She'd never been one for airs and graces, and she wasn't about to start now. 

Moving towards the door, she pressed her ear against it, her brow furrowing slightly at the soft sound of voices coming from the main room on the other side. Slowly, she turned the handle and opened the door, peering out.

At the table sat Leander, a teapot and cups laid out before him, and in a chair adjacent to him sat a beautiful, dark-haired woman. MC’s eyes narrowed as she studied this woman, recognising her as the Auror from Leander’s memory in the pensieve. She had suggested that Leander make her talk by implying that Sebastian was in a relationship with Rookwood’s daughter.

Her mouth tightened with instant dislike. She watched as they talked together, the woman reaching out to touch her hand to Leander’s arm. His cheeks flushed pink, his gaze rather bashful as this simpering bitch fluttered her dark lashes at him. MC’s stomach coiled tightly and she swung the door open wider, stepping out into the room to reveal herself. Leander glanced up, his eyes widening as they swept over her.

“MC…wow…you look…Do you feel better?” He stuttered, getting to his feet. He reached for another cup and placed it before the empty chair on his other side. “Let me pour you some tea. Come, join us. I would like you to meet my colleague, Odessa McKinnon. She will be taking some of the watches here with you, starting with later on this evening.” 

MC moved closer as Leander poured tea from the pot, slipping into the chair that Leander hurried to hold out for her whilst keeping her suspicious gaze on McKinnon. Leander tucked her chair in, his fingers grazing her shoulder as he moved to return to his own chair. Cleaner than she had been in years, and feeling slightly more human now that she was dressed in proper clothes, MC felt her spine stiffen as McKinnon gave her the once over.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, MC,” she purred, one beautifully shaped eyebrow arching slightly as she lifted her tea cup. “I have heard so much about you, all your notorious deeds and wonderful magic. I have to admit, I have been rather intrigued.”

“You’re here to watch me tonight?” MC asked, her voice flat calm. She turned the saucer holding her teacup on the table top, relieved that her fingers did not tremble as she did so, her eyes cold and blank as she stared at the smug woman. “Aren’t you concerned that I might try to kill you?”

Leander hissed air through his teeth in a gasp. McKinnon didn’t move a muscle, but there was a subtle flare in her eyes as she put down her cup. “Out of prison a mere few hours and you’re already risking being thrown back inside,” she tutted. “I didn’t take you for a fool, MC.”

“But you take me for a murderer, correct? I have previous experience in that department. The man whom I thought to be Rookwood disappeared into a cloud of ash by my hands. They would have a hard time proving I did anything to you without a body as evidence,” MC said coolly. Her eyes glittered with cold malice as she lifted her cup and took a sip, the hot liquid washing over her tongue and making it tingle, the flavour blooming inside her mouth after years of tepid water. 

Leander rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, his eyes disapproving as he glanced her way, but she only smiled as she returned her cup to its saucer. McKinnon flicked an uneasy frown in Leander's direction and shifted in her chair. “You haven’t tried to hurt Prewett, so your heart can’t be that cold, love,” she said, tilting her head. “If you are trying to scare me, it won’t work. I’ve seen much nastier dark wizards than you.”

“I shall take that as a challenge, then,” MC said with a smirk. She slid her eyes towards a rather awkward looking Leander, and her gaze softened. “Besides, why would I want to hurt Leander? I rather like him. You, on the other hand...”

MC's eyes hardened again on those last words, the instant dislike she had for this Auror setting her teeth on edge. She would need to ensure that her defences were on full alert around this one, there was a gleam in her eyes that MC did not like, a smug assurance that took some of the edge off her beauty. If only she could have her wand.

McKinnon shifted in her seat again, perhaps not as smug as she was trying to portray as she leant her elbow on the table top, her hand supporting her chin. “Luckily, I enjoy a challenge, too,” she said, her eyes becoming devious slits. “Speaking of challenges. Your old flame, Sebastian Sallow, is rather handy with a wand, isn’t he? He put up quite the fight when I tracked him down in Glasgow. Quite the handsome devil, too. I can see why you liked him.”

MC stiffened, her fingers twitching to grip against the table top at the mention of Sebastian’s name. McKinnon’s smile was far too arrogant, too knowing. 

“Rookwood’s daughter seems to think so as well. Quite the striking pair they make when they fight,” McKinnon continued.

Leander sighed and shook his head. “Perhaps we should keep the conversation to more relevant topics, ladies,” he suggested.

“How is Sebastian not relevant?” McKinnon asked, shifting her gaze to Leander. “He is in deep with Rookwood, and MC needs to be prepared.”

Trying to keep her temper was difficult considering the violent swing of her emotions today, but MC did her best to sit still and keep her mouth clamped tightly shut. She knew what this bitch was doing. She was trying to bait her, to wind her up and make her show her hand, and MC didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of succeeding. This is what McKinnon had suggested Leander do to her, her snide comments revealed in Leander's pensieve memory, but he hadn’t done it. 

Her hands came together, her fingers touching against the scar on her palm, a reminder that Sebastian would never turn his back on her. He couldn’t. Just like she could never turn her back on him. As difficult as it was to think of him being with Rookwood’s daughter, if that is what he wanted, then what could she do? The very thought of him touching another woman made her stomach twist, sadness engulfing the dark space in her chest at the loss of what could have been, but she would never allow McKinnon the satisfaction of knowing that. No matter how harshly it scraped along her deepest fears. 

“I am well aware of how Sebastian fights. We used to train together,” MC said, shrugging her shoulders as if she was not concerned. “When the time comes for me to track down the Ashwinders, I can’t see it being a problem. Like you said, I have such wonderful magic available at my fingertips, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Now, that is a showdown I would pay good galleons to see,” McKinnon said. Her sly smirk swung towards Leander. “Perhaps the idea of sending her into the pits is a good one, after all.” 

“What pits?” MC asked, glancing between them. 

McKinnon chuckled and got to her feet, taking her robe from the back of her chair to put on. Leander stood too, always the gentleman, stepping forward to help her with her robe. MC watched them both, noticing the flirty gleam in McKinnon's eyes as she smiled at Leander when she thanked him. 

“I'm sure Prewett will fill you in on all the details regarding the pits,” she said, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves. Her smug smile lifted her lips. “I have some errands to run, so I shall say goodbye for now. I will return for my watch duty later.” 

“I can't wait,” MC muttered, rolling her eyes. 

Leander walked her towards the door that led outside, MC watching through narrowed eyes as McKinnon touched her hand to his arm again. 

“I will see you later,” she said, leaning in a little, her voice low and intimate. “And I shall tell Harrington that you will meet him as suggested.”

Leander nodded, that delicate blush staining his cheeks again. “Thank you, Odessa.” 

Watching the exchange, MC realised she hadn't given much thought to what Leander's personal life might be like. She had only seen him as the Auror in his visits, with glimpses of the boy she remembered from their short time together at school. For the first time, she wondered what he liked, the kind of books he read, or what his favourite food was. 

Did he have a lover? Watching him with McKinnon, she didn't think they were that close, but perhaps the suggestion of something more being possible lingered in their glances and smiles. The idea was oddly repulsive, and MC's mouth tightened with disapproval as she sat back in the chair and folded her arms. 

Leander returned to the table and began to gather up the teacups after McKinnon had left. MC watched him, her gaze following him as he took the cups to the sink under the window. 

“What are the pits?” She asked.

He turned to face her, brushing his hands together. “There is an illegal duelling club that takes place in the new London underground train tunnels. Rookwood is involved, and his Ashwinders take part in fights for money.”

Her eyebrows shot up with interest. “So, it's like a bigger, more dangerous version of Crossed Wands?” 

Leander huffed a laugh and came back to the table and picked up the teapot. “Definitely more dangerous. People die down there,” he said pointedly. He held up the teapot. “Would you like some more?” 

MC nodded and slid her cup forward to be refilled. “That delightful colleague of yours suggested I would be sent to these illegal duelling fights. Why is that?” 

Leander bit his lip. “That hasn't been agreed upon yet. We need to do some more investigating first before we even consider sending you down there. It could be a good way to infiltrate you into the gang.” 

“Does Sebastian duel there?” 

Leander slowly put down the teapot and placed his hands on the back of his chair. She could see the reluctance in his eyes, but she needed to know, almost holding her breath as she waited. 

“I can't say for sure that he does, but it is likely he will be there,” he said. He met her eyes. “Would you be alright with that? I don't want to place you in situations that might be difficult.” 

Whilst her pulse raced, MC once again maintained a cool approach, shrugging her shoulders as she picked up her tea. “I can handle myself. I wouldn't make a very good spy for you if I couldn't. I will be fine.” 

Leander pulled back his chair and sat down facing her. He placed a hand on the table top near hers but didn't touch her. 

“I meant it when I said I didn't want to hurt you, and that includes placing you in dangerous situations. I know you can handle yourself, but that doesn't mean I won't be concerned. Harrington and I are going to check these duelling pits out later and see what they are like,” he said. “McKinnon will be here while I am gone, and I will tell you what I can once I return. Nothing will be finalised until I speak with you first.” 

It was so very hard to maintain that cold exterior when he looked at her like that, his eyes so open and earnest, but she kept her face still as she returned his gaze. She tried to imagine him in a highly dangerous situation, tried to picture the transition from soft hearted Lee to a fighting Auror, and it wasn't easy. 

Her hand shifted on the table top, her little finger brushing up against the warmth of his hand. 

“Be careful while you're gone,” she said quietly. Her lips twitched ever so slightly. “Don't leave me alone with that smug bitch for too long. I'd rather not risk being sent back to Azkaban, but I won't rule out the desire to slap her irritatingly perfect face.”  

He looked down to where she was touching him, and she saw his throat work as he swallowed. “I will only be there a few hours, and then I will come back. I promise. Try and get some sleep. McKinnon isn't so bad once you get to know her. We trained together.” 

MC stared into his eyes, the air feeling heavy between them. “She fancies you,” she murmured and watched as a deep flush coloured his freckled cheeks. 

“We are just colleagues,” he assured her, touching his fingers to his tie to straighten it. “She is naturally flirtatious. She does it with everyone, not just me.” 

“Would you like it to be just you she flirts with? The way she looked at you makes me think you are in with a chance there.”

“I’m not sure if that’s entirely appropriate,” he gulped.

Leander cleared his throat, his fingers now fiddling with his tie, rearranging it and ensuring it was tucked neatly into his waistcoat. His flush now darkened his neck, and his gaze skipped away from her as he stood.

MC felt a genuine smile twitch at her lips, seeing the awkward, flustered boy from their youth as he tried to calm his fluster. She reached out and took hold of his hand, her thumb sweeping over the softness of his palm.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you, Lee,” she said gently before letting her gaze dip to their joined hands. It was surprising how just that brief and gentle contact could bring such comfort. Reluctantly, she let him go. “Besides, your personal life is none of my business. Forgive me.”

The look that they shared lingered, the moment feeling heavy and poised in the silence of the room. MC felt the hair rise on the back of her neck, a deep ache swelling within her to feel like she belonged somewhere, the black cavern in her chest warping with a loneliness that stole her breath.

“Let me fix you something to eat,” Leander said, breaking the strange tension in the room. “You must be hungry. I could make you a sandwich?”

MC blinked, nodding quickly as she compressed the confusing ache within her, masking it with her walls of cold stone. She was hungry. Although, when Leander placed down the plate onto the table before her, she stared at the cheese sandwich and wondered how she would ever be able to swallow it over the tightness in her throat. 

The first bite filled her mouth with stinging surprise, all the texture and flavour so strange against her tongue as she chewed. It had been so long since she had eaten normal food, and as she took more mouthfuls, she began to chew faster. Her stomach gnawed with ravenous hunger, and she ate the entire sandwich, her belly rumbling and squeaking at the new contents she had thrown into it. Immediately, she felt very full, her hand rubbing over her stomach carefully as she groaned.

“It’s probably best to start with small meals until your stomach gets used to eating again,” Leander said, smiling at her like a proud parent across the table. “You will be eating roast dinners before you know it.”

“Thank you,” she said, meeting his gaze, and she didn’t just mean for the sandwich.

He nodded, a knock at the door breaking the moment before it could become loaded again like before. They both turned to look towards the door, and Leander stood. “Ah, that will be the Healer,” he said. “Perfect timing.”

As Leander went to open the door and greet the Healer, MC remained at the table, her belly full and her body feeling clean from head to toes. Although the future stretched out huge and uncertain before her, for the first time since her feet landed on the perfectly swept floors of this house, she thought maybe she could do this after all. 

Sebastian

Keeping a lid on his own rage was increasingly difficult as those around him spoke with raised voices, the private room at the back of The Black Rose pub filled with Rookwood’s closest henchmen. Sebastian and Rosier stood near the wall, watching as all hell broke loose, each man having his own piece to say on what they thought the Ministry was up to.

“Since when is a prisoner released without some kind of announcement in the Daily Prophet,” Carrow said, his eyes narrow and suspicious. “Especially a high profile prisoner such as this girl. It was all over the front page when she was convicted and sent to Azkaban. I don’t like it.”

Rookwood sat at the head of the table rubbing his chin slowly, his face in deep thought, his eyes shifting towards Sebastian with a dark look. “This had better not be a trick, Sallow,” he said darkly. “You didn’t get her out and hide her somewhere, did you?”

Sebastian clenched his fists, his face darkening at the suggestion. Rosier tapped his fingers against his elbow, his blue eyes flashing with a warning to be careful.

“You can take the very memory from my head if you doubt me so much,” Sebastian offered, straightening his spine. “Believe me, I’m just as pissed off as you are. We risked our necks going into that place. If anyone is up to trickery, it’s that bitch, Black Dahlia.”

Rookwood hummed thoughtfully, his gaze sliding back to Carrow. “Any word from our little whisperer?”

“Not a thing,” Carrow said, his mouth tight. 

Sebastian’s top lip curled with his disgust and fury. There was no love lost when it came to Black Dahlia where he was concerned, but his patience was wearing dangerously thin, his hand lingering near his wand in its holster. He folded his arms and leant against the wall, chewing at his lower lip in frustration, his head drifting into a darker place as he considered painful ways of making her talk.

At the table beside Rookwood sat his daughter, Luella, her blonde curls held up in a twist, loose strands breaking free to hang around her face. She was sitting quietly, taking in the words spoken by those around her, but her gaze kept drifting over towards Sebastian. Her blue eyes were lit with a familiar gleam as they passed over him, lingering on his mouth and wandering downwards over his body with a hunger that had once stirred him. 

She had arrived yesterday, curious and eager to meet the escaped prisoner, but had walked into the angry fallout of MC being missing. Last night, Sebastian had dodged her questions, soaking his innards in shots of whiskey to try and drown out the deep ache in his chest. When her hands had wandered, her lips soft against his ear, he had been tempted, but eventually spurned her advances outside his bedroom door. His bleary gaze had wandered over her hair, her eyes, the shape of her mouth, and it was all wrong. She wasn’t MC. 

Here, in the meeting room, he was careful to avoid holding her gaze for too long. He needed to keep his distance from her, his main focus now being the seeking out of Leander Prewett and tracking down MC. 

He had managed to corner Larson this morning, coercing him into a side alley near Gringotts Bank, and he’d asked him about Prewett. Larson hadn’t changed much since school, but he had surprised Sebastian with a steely determination not to be pushed around. Sebastian had changed tactics swiftly, using his silver tongue to suggest that he just wanted to talk to Prewett, that he had information that could prove useful. He had sent the blonde Ravenclaw off with assurances that his message would be passed on. 

Rookwood stood up, adjusting his long gentleman’s coat, his eyes softening briefly as he glanced Luella’s way. He cast his eyes around the room, his eyes lit with a devilish gleam. “Let’s not fret, ladies and gentlemen. We’ll get to the truth of it in due course,” he said, his gaze landing on Sebastian. “Sallow is already chasing a lead within the Ministry, and once Black Dahlia shows her face, her lips had better start moving. For now, let us enjoy some entertainment. There are fights to bet on in the pits, and whores to slake our lusts. I say we adjourn to the tunnels and start the night early.”

A rousing murmur of agreement went up around the room, and Rosier grinned beside Sebastian. “I’m up for that,” he said, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and tucking one between his lips. He held the packet out to Sebastian, but he waved him off. “Are you coming, Sallow?”

Sebastian turned his gaze from Luella and considered Rosier’s question, his fingers caressing along the handle of his wand. “Actually, I could do with a damned good scrap,” he said thoughtfully, the burn of his frustration like an itch in his veins. “A few fast duels ought to satiate the hunger.”

“Or you could put Lulu out of her misery,” Rosier smirked, shaking his head. “Honestly, the eye fucking is becoming too obvious. I’m surprised Daddy Rookwood hasn’t picked up on it yet.”

Sebastian huffed and began to walk towards the door, following the others as they filed out of the room. Rosier joined him, and Sebastian leaned in to speak quietly. “I’m done with all that,” he muttered. “I’ve got bigger things to worry about. If you want to hit her up, go for it. Maybe she will leave me alone once you’ve got your hands on her.”

Rosier looked doubtful. “Lulu has always been picky with her men. She’s only got eyes for you, mate. But, you know me, I’ll give any ride a go.”

Sebastian’s mouth spread into a grin as he looked towards his friend, slinging an arm about his shoulders as they entered the bar of The Black Rose. “I do know you,” he said, ruffling Rosier’s dark, blonde hair. “And I appreciate your enthusiasm for life. Come on, let’s get down into those pits and inflict some damage. My wand is thirsty for some action.”

Leander

Despite it being the evening, the Auror office was just as busy, some at their desks whilst others were having meetings or gathering files for cases. Leander made his way through the desk cubicles, heading for his own to check if the file containing the gathered evidence for the duelling pits was there. He always liked to refresh his thoughts on the most recent information before heading out for field work. Knowledge was power, and going down into those tunnels was risky enough without knowing plenty of details.

His desk was as neat as he had left it, his files stored in a perfect pile in his tray. He flicked through them quickly, frowning slightly as he couldn’t find the one he was looking for. He glanced over at the untidy chaos of McKinnon’s desk and sighed, moving over to begin checking her scattered folders, but it wasn’t there either. Harrington’s desk turned up nothing, and so he headed towards the researcher's room in the hope it was there rather than being back in the archives.

The team of researchers that worked for the British Auror Office were methodical fact checkers, gathering and storing any evidence attained by Aurors and ensuring it was all filed correctly. They were also rather good at picking out patterns in evidence, and they were often an invaluable asset in solving cases. If Leander hadn’t managed to pass the tough Auror program, he had thought to become a researcher as a backup career. It was the pursuit of justice without the field work and fighting, all from the comfort of a desk inside the sanctuary of the Ministry. 

As Leander walked down the hall towards the research offices, his head was filled with thoughts of MC. The knowledge that she was safely tucked away in the safe house, warm and comfortable, made some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Seeing her out of that dark and cold prison had brought a lump to his throat, especially when she had stepped out of the bedroom dressed in clean clothes, her hair soft about her face, her skin still slightly pink from her bath. He had been glad that McKinnon had been there to stop him from immediately going to her, his fingers aching to brush against the lines of her cheek, the pull of her stronger than ever despite his effort to hold back.

This case was so big, and she was a key part of it, he could not afford to mess this up. He had to be so careful, but one look at her big, haunted eyes was enough to make that soft part of himself that he hid so carefully behind his ribs, swell to a chest tightening bloom. It was a lesson in restraint to keep his hands to himself, to keep his thoughts on the job and not constantly on her. When she had brushed her finger up against his hand earlier, her lips uttering a soft plea for him to be careful whilst he was gone, it had taken all of his strength to behave like a gentleman. 

Entering the research office, he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, striding past the girl on the reception desk with a polite nod as he made his way towards Larson’s desk. If anyone ought to know where the file was, it would be him. Andrew was indeed at his desk despite the later hour, his head bent over a thick stack of parchment, his fingers pushed into the soft wave of his blonde hair as he supported himself on the desk.

“Good evening, Andrew,” he said, coming to a stop beside him. “That’s quite the stack of bedtime reading you have there.”

Andrew looked up, blinking slowly as he separated his thoughts from his reading material, his lips curving into a smile. “Good evening, Lee. How are you?”

Andrew turned in his chair, pushing the parchment away from him to give Leander his full attention. His facial features had clung to the softness he’d had as a boy, the gentleness still there in his brown eyes, combined with a bright intelligence that Leander had always appreciated. He had known Andrew for a long time and took pleasure in working with him here at the Ministry. He felt privileged to call him a friend.

“I’m well, thank you,” Leander said with a nod. “I was hoping you would still be here. I’m looking for the file on the underground duelling pit in London. I wanted to read up a bit before going down there to have a scout around.”

Andrew’s brow furrowed slightly. “You’re going down there? Has there been a new development on the Rookwood case?”

Leander gave a rueful twist of his lips. “You could say that, yes, although I am not at liberty to say much yet. You wouldn’t happen to know where it is, would you?”

Andrew bit his lip and glanced towards his pile of files on his desk, reaching across to pull one out and hold it up. “Actually, I have it right here,” he said, giving Leander a hesitant look. “I er…I swiped it from your desk earlier today while you were out. I wanted to read up on it myself.”

“Oh? Any particular reason?” 

“Yes. Our old school buddy, Sebastian Sallow,” Andrew said with a sigh. He looked up at Leander, a worried gleam in his eyes. “Would you say that was a good reason?”

Leander frowned and reached for a nearby chair, dragging it closer so he could sit. “That depends. What makes you interested in Sallow all of a sudden?”

“He cornered me this morning in Diagon Alley,” Andrew said, rubbing his hand across his mouth, a slight blush staining his cheeks. Leander’s eyes bulged, his lips parting in surprise. “I won’t lie to you, Lee. I wondered what the bloody hell he was going to do. He had his wand out, and I was never all that great at the hand to hand spell casting. That was always your thing, and Sallow is like a coiled serpent with a wand in his hand.”

“What did he want?”

Andrew winced, his eyes becoming grave. “He wants you, mate. He was demanding to know where he could find you. He said he had information that might prove useful to you. I didn’t tell him anything, only that I would pass on the message.”

Leander swore under his breath and put his hands to his face, closing his eyes as old insecurities began to bubble up inside of him. He was twelve years old again, and Sallow was casting Glacius under his feet to make him slip on the stairs, his twin giggling behind him as she clung on to Gaunt’s arm. 

It had always been silly pranks, and Leander had gotten his own back a few times with some help from Garreth, but Sebastian always liked to have the upper hand. He always had to be smarter, faster, his cocky smirk plastered over his handsome face. And now he was looking for him. It could only be about one thing. It had to be something to do with MC. Leander blew air through his lips and gripped his thighs, shaking his head. He wasn’t a scrawny twelve year old anymore. He was a graduated Auror, and he could hold his own. 

“What else did he say?” Leander asked, licking his lips.

“He said you might catch him in the Black Rose,” Andrew said, frowning slightly. “That is a nefarious pub, make no mistake. I wouldn’t go in there unprepared, Lee.”

Leander nodded and pinched his lips thoughtfully. “He was spotted there recently by another Auror, so it’s no surprise to hear that’s where to find him. Leave it with me, Andrew. I’ll see if I can’t track him down and find out what he wants.”

“Just be careful, alright?” Andrew said, his expression grim. “It can’t be anything good.”

Leander nodded, a tight-lipped smile on his lips as he moved to stand. He touched a hand to Andrew’s shoulder as he said goodbye, leaving the office with the file in hand, fairly certain that he knew exactly what Sebastian wanted, but he wasn’t about to give it to him.

For all Sebastian knew, she was tucked away inside Azkaban, far out of his reach. That’s the way it needed to stay until she was strong enough to step out into the world again and take on the likes of the Ashwinders. If Sebastian was hoping to get information out of him in order to aid a prison break, then he was very much mistaken. 

….*....

Leander met Harrington in Monument Street, London, the area reasonably quiet after the setting of the sun. The gas lamps had been lit, casting an eerie glow through the beginnings of a lingering mist that left a damp feeling on one’s clothing. The distant sound of carriages on the main road heading towards London Bridge could be heard as he walked alongside Harrington, past the colossal tower of a monument dedicated to all that was lost in the Great Fire of London in the 1600s, giving the road its name. 

“The file said the entrance to the duelling pit was down in the underground tunnel just along from the platform,” Leander said, pulling his collar up a little higher against the chill on the back of his neck. Autumn was beginning to sink its teeth into the weather. “Hopefully the station will be quiet at this time of the evening.”

“Magical folk have been vanishing into the underbelly of London long before the Muggles started sending their fancy new trains down there,” Harrington said. “London has many secrets, and some of the chambers underneath her are ancient. We won’t have any trouble accessing the tunnels. It will be further along that we will have to be more careful. My snitch said there are enchantments in place to avoid the duelling pits being discovered.”

“Nothing a cheeky Revelio won’t show us, I’m sure,” Leander said with a small smile.

They turned into King William Street and headed for the entrance to the Metropolitan Underground railway station of the same name, slipping through the doors in a swirl of mist and began to descend the spiralling iron stairwell into the depths.

“How is our new house guest faring?” Harrington asked as they reached the bottom, the air musty and damp, the only light coming from flickering lamps spaced out along the tiny platform.

“She is looking a lot better after a bath and something to eat, and the Healer said she was physically well despite everything. She has a box full of potions and elixirs to take to build her back to strength,” Leander said, scanning the station’s platform to find it empty. A crease appeared between his brows as he thought of MC. “I’m not so sure about her mental state. That might take a bit more work.”

“All we need her to do is give us enough to bring Rookwood to his knees,” Harrington said, his face grim. “We need to lure the spider out of his cave, and then we can shred his little web of criminals. That’s the main goal here.”

Leander bit his lip against the thoughts sliding across his mind. Harrington wasn’t wrong. That was the goal, but MC deserved more than that. At least, he thought so.

They jumped down off the platform onto the tracks below, the circular maw of the tunnel's mouth gaping before them. A stale breeze was coming from it, the tracks disappearing off into the blackness as though leading them down into the hells. Harrington slipped out his wand and stepped into the tunnel, his Lumos spell guiding their way until they came to the hidden door in the brick wall, marked by runes.

“Be on your guard, Prewett,” Harrington muttered. “We could end up running into anyone down here.”

An iron ladder led them down into a tunnel that had a swift running stream bubbling along the bottom of it, a stone pathway following the gushing water into further darkness. They walked for some time, listening for the sound of boot steps, Harrington casting Revelio at intervals until they came across a charmed barrier invisible to the naked eye. Leander tugged at his collar, feeling the oppressive weight of an entire city above his head as Harrington cleared the barrier, and they continued on.

Eventually, they began to hear the distorted echo of raised voices coming along the tunnel, the anticipation building in Leander’s chest as they drew nearer. Keeping to the shadows, they moved towards the light, the flicker and flash of spells reflecting off the walls in shades of red and white. 

Leander wasn't sure what he had been expecting of the pit, the name itself bringing forth images of dark, filthy holes with those duelling battling it out amongst a rabble of a crowd. The crowd part was mostly true. However, they were spaced around an arena that made Leander think of Roman gladiator fighting rings. The staggered levels of the spectators gave them an excellent view into an oval shaped arena with a stone floor covered in wood shavings. 

The chamber itself was not dark, nor filthy, the curved arches in the ceiling giving it a classical building feel, the stone work almost attractive, and around the walls were fire sconces that lit up the space with a golden glow. As for the gathered crowd, there was a mixed bunch of witches and wizards, from the poor to the rich. A careful glance around the space revealed that these duels attracted a variety of people, and a lot of them, too. 

The place was heaving, the air thick with excitement and the smokey scent of spell casting, the chill of the tunnels exchanged for the warmth of many bodies in close proximity. 

“Merlin’s beard, look at this lot,” Harrington said, his eyes casting an experienced eye over the crowd. His gaze narrowed as he looked in the direction of what could only be described as a spectators box. “Well, well, who do we have here?” 

There in the box sat Marvolo Gaunt, Amos Carrow, Luella Rookwood, and what looked suspiciously like one of the Minister of Magic’s official aides. No wonder these pits were allowed to continue if they had high up Ministry workers in their audience. 

“No sign of Rookwood,” Leander muttered near Harrington’s ear. “What about Sallow? I can't see him either.” 

“Try looking lower down in the gutter where he belongs,” Harrington sneered.

Leander looked downwards into the fighting arena itself, and his eyes widened. There he was. Sebastian Sallow. The sleeves were rolled up on his black shirt, the collar open, his freckled skin glistening with sweat, and his wild mop of hair damp at his temples. Flushed and breathing hard, he was duelling against a bare chested man with a skinhead, his face set with intense concentration. 

Andrew had compared him to a coiled serpent when he held a wand, and Leander could see that Sebastian still held a masterful prowess when it came to fighting. He moved with lithe skill, the barest flick of his wrist wielding quick spell work that his opponent could barely keep up with. He was no longer a scrawny teenager, his body more thickset, the muscle in his forearm defined. He looked strong, his neck solid and his chest broad, and yet he moved with the sharpness and cunning of a fox. 

The bald man was flagging, and Sebastian showed no mercy as he backed him up against the wooden railing at the edge of the fight floor, the crowd leaning forward to jeer and shout. Sebastian wielded with a flourish, the Diffindo cutting through the other man's flesh with horrifying precision, the scarlet of his blood seeping from his wounds at a frightening pace. The crowd gasped and then cheered as he collapsed to the floor, a duelling referee stepping into the oval to lift Sebastian’s arm into the air as the victor. 

“Savages, the lot of them,” Harrington hissed, his gaze narrowed in disgust. “It's a shame we don't have any backup. We could raid this circus and nab ourselves a pretty collection of scumbags here.” 

Looking at the way the crowd was baying for blood, the punters getting their bet winnings as Carrow and Gaunt looked on with smug looks on their cold faces, Leander felt his stomach twist. The thought of bringing MC here made him feel nauseated, the danger and savageness making him think that this was not the best way forward. He wished he could keep her inside the safe house forever, no matter how unrealistic that sounded. 

“Come on, I've seen enough,” Harrington said, nudging Leander’s arm. “Let's get out of here before we are spotted.” 

Leander hesitated, watching as Luella Rookwood smiled down at Sebastian, clapping her hands. The way she looked at Sallow certainly gave some credence to McKinnon’s suggestion that there was something between the two. Clenching his hands into fists, Leander dragged his eyes away and began to make his way back through the crowd, heading for the tunnel they entered through. 

A shout went up to his left, and then a bloom of purple sparks erupted into the air above their heads. There was a millisecond of utter silence before utter chaos erupted in the chamber. The crowd surged as people made a run for the tunnels, some falling and becoming trampled underfoot, the snap and whirl of Apparition coming from all sides as those who were able to make a quick exit. 

Leander had his wand in hand, stumbling and shoving with the tide of people as he tried to work out what was happening. Harrington was lost in the chaos, and Leander swallowed down the flutter of panic that erupted in his chest, and he pulled on his Auror training. Maintaining a manner of calm, he fought his way through to the edge of the chamber, keeping a wary eye on everyone. 

A glance to the spectator box revealed it to be empty, Carrow and Gaunt making a swift exit. He spotted Luella hurrying down the steps towards the pit floor, her mouth shouting something that looked suspiciously like Sebastian’s name, but he couldn't be sure over the noise and chaos. He needed to find Harrington and get out of here. 

Pushing back through the crowd, he looked for signs of his partner, having to block spells that were being cast across the heads of people as scrapping began to break out. Leander fired off a few spells of his own, diving behind a stack of storage crates at the entrance of a rather large tunnel to avoid a blasting curse. 

As the crowd thinned, Leander moved back towards the chamber, scanning the space for Harrington. The scrape of boots on stone behind him made him spin about, his wand held out ready, his heart leaping madly as his gaze met with a pair of blazing, brown eyes. 

Sebastian stood a fair few paces before him, his wand held up towards Leander, a gleam in his gaze that could almost be described as feral satisfaction. Sebastian took a slow step to the right, and Leander counter stepped, keeping his wand arm aimed, steady, and true. 

Despite the heightened danger of the situation, Leander felt as though they could be sixteen again, preparing to face off in a round of Crossed Wands. Time slipped into insignificance as he stared Sebastian down. Sixteen or twenty-one, it would appear they were fated to always be rivals. 

“I should have known to find you here, Sallow,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the mad rush of his pulse. “It's all a little predictable, though, isn't it? Another unsanctioned duelling club. I thought you might have outgrown all that by now.” 

Sebastian smirked, his feet creeping closer. Leander maintained a decent distance, his eyes quick and wary as they manoeuvred in the entrance of the tunnel. 

“You're not so unpredictable yourself, Prewett. Here you are, coming to wreck all the fun with rules and self-righteousness,” Sebastian said, shaking his head slowly. “I guess some things just don't change.” 

A flick of his wrist and a quick cast hit the stone in front of Leander’s boot. The slightest flinch flickered across his face, but he didn't move. Sebastian’s eyebrows went up a notch. 

“How about it, Prewett? Do you fancy a round for old times' sake?” 

“It will only end with your wrists in chains and a cell, Sallow,” Leander said, his face hardening. “I hear Azkaban is rather cruel this time of year. I guess you will fit right in.” 

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth tightened. “You would know,” he hissed, striking hard and fast. 

Leander threw up a Protego shield and cast back, both of them assuming duelling stances and falling into a furious back and forth of spells. Sebastian was fierce despite having only just fought in the ring, but Leander was no longer a schoolboy either, his body fit and strong from gruelling training and hours of practice. He gave it everything and even began to push Sebastian further back into the tunnel, shadows darkening their movements and making the spells light up their faces with an eerie glow. 

Sebastian’s comment toyed at the back of Leander’s thoughts as they fired spells into the dark. What did he mean? Blocking another swift curse, he used one of Sebastian’s old tricks against him and cast Glacius across the floor. Sebastian’s boots slid on the ice, and he swore viciously as he slammed into the tunnel wall, his wand clattering to the ground. 

Leander was on him instantly, grabbing the front of his shirt, breathing hard as he shoved him against the wall. “I hear you've been looking for me, Sallow. What could you possibly have to say that I would find interesting?” 

Sebastian growled and tried to shove back, kicking out with his legs in frustration. They struggled, Sebastian swinging a fist towards his face and catching him hard above his eye. Leander grunted at the impact, blinking in shock as his mind spun, but he shook it off and managed to grab Sebastian's wrist and slam him back against the wall. He pinned his arm up to block any more swings, his other hand fisting into his shirt. 

As Sebastian’s hand splayed open at the impact against the brick, Leander caught sight of a long, thin red scar slashed across his palm, a complete match to the one MC had across hers. Leander stared at it, his cheeks draining of colour as he remembered the blood pact between her and Sallow. 

Sebastian’s head twisted, looking to see what Leander was staring at, his gaze narrowing as he studied Leander's face carefully.

“What's got you all spooked?” He asked and wiggled the fingers on his left hand, his breath panting through his lips. “It's only a scar.”

Leander met his eyes, his grip tightening on the infuriating man against the wall. “I know exactly what it is,” he hissed. 

Sebastian’s smugness faltered fleetingly, his throat working as he swallowed. A cold, determined look entered his gaze, and his voice came through gritted teeth. 

“Where is she, Prewett?” 

Leander stilled, his eyes locked in a battle of wills with his old rival, a dull throb beginning around his eye where Sebastian had punched him. “Who?” 

“Don't fuck with me,” Sebastian said, trying to jerk his arms free, but Leander pushed harder against him. “You know who I'm talking about. Where is she?” 

The first cold trickle of fear slid down Leander’s spine at the demand, the suggestion that Sebastian knew she had been released. Leander stuck to the lie. “She is in Azkaban. You know that.” 

Sebastian huffed a cold, humourless laugh. “You and I both know that's not true, Prewett. Naughty boy, you shouldn't tell lies. MC is not in her cell, and I want to know where she is. You can't keep her from me, not for long.”

Leander wanted to rip the smugness from Sebastian’s face, his own fear and bitterness making his blood run cold. How could Sebastian know that MC wasn't in her cell? How was that even possible? His eyes flicked up towards the scar on Sebastian’s palm as he wondered if somehow the pact could tell him. But then, that would mean he could locate her if she moved. So, no, that wasn't it. His mind raced, the obvious possibility being one he didn't want to admit, the very idea threatening the honour of the British Auror Office. 

Sebastian’s grin was slow and knowing. “You thought you were being so clever, didn't you? You thought you could sneak her out, and nobody would know. What's the plan, Prewett? Are you hoping to keep her all for yourself?” 

Leander felt his cheeks burn with a flush, and he could no longer bear the close proximity of him. He let Sebastian go and stepped back, swiping his hand across his face as he swallowed hard. 

“I'm not sure what it is you think you know, but you're wrong,” he said, shaking his head. “I'm not sneaking anyone anywhere.”

“Liar!” Sebastian hissed, his fists slamming against his thighs, his eyes wild. “You took her out of there, I know you did! Tell me where she is! You might as well, because if not today, I will find out, and I will come for her. She's mine, Prewett.” 

“You think your stupid blood pact makes her yours?” He scoffed, gesturing towards his left hand. “MC has her own mind, Sallow. She might not be able to betray you, but that doesn't mean you own her. She can choose to go and be with whoever she wants.” 

Sebastian’s face hardened. “Is that right?” 

“Yes it is,” he said, nodding. “MC will always have a choice.” 

“I suppose you have hopes that she will choose you,” Sebastian said, his eyes narrowing. “Her prince in shining armour who rescued her from the tower.” 

He knew. Sebastian knew MC was out. But how? 

Footsteps echoed in the tunnel, and they both turned to see Harrington approaching with his wand held up. He fixed his stern eyes on Sebastian, a slow smile appearing on his mouth. 

“Look who we have here,” he said. “Mr Sallow. Oh, I've been looking forward to seeing you again.” 

Sebastian threw another glance towards Leander, his eyes determined. “I won't give up.” 

“Don't you dare…” Harrington snarled, a spell bursting from his wand. But, he was too late. 

Sebastian made a dive for his wand and disappeared with a sharp crack, a swirl of black giving way to nothing as Harrington’s spell hit the wall with a flare of white light. 

Leander hung his head, his fingers gripping tightly to his wand as his mind raced, the adrenaline from the fight draining from him. Harrington came up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don't worry, lad,” he said. “We'll get him.”

Leander lifted his head to look at Harrington, his heart sinking at what he had to say. The thought of it filling him with such disappointment even though such a thing wasn't unheard of. 

“He knew, Harrington,” he said softly. “He knew MC was out of Azkaban and that I was the one who took her. I think…I think we might have a snitch on the team.” 

Harrington glanced towards where Sebastian had been standing only seconds ago, his mouth tightening with fury. “Shit,” he muttered, turning away. His voice lifted into a yell that echoed down the tunnel. “Shit!” 

This could compromise the whole operation. It could alert Rookwood to the idea that MC was siding with Aurors, and Leander felt the bitter sting of frustration in his bones. 

Harrington rubbed his chin in thought, his gaze catching on Leander’s face. “Bloody hell, that's going to give you a shiner come tomorrow,” he said, stepping closer. “You could do with seeing a Healer.”

Leander touched his fingers carefully to his eyebrow, the dull throb making him wince as he felt warm, sticky blood from the split skin there. “I will live,” he sighed. 

“Get yourself cleaned up, and then we need to check on McKinnon,” Harrington said. “If there is a snitch, then the safe house could be compromised.” 

Leander's stomach plummeted. He'd left MC there after promising he wouldn't let anything happen to her. “I'll go,” he said firmly. “I'll go right now.” 

“You need to see a Healer,” Harrington repeated, pointing at his head. 

“I'm fine,” Leander insisted. “Besides, MC is my responsibility. It should be me that goes.” 

Harrington gave him a long look and then sighed. “Your soft heart is going to get you in trouble one of these days, lad. Fine. Go to the safe house, but don't take any chances. Pack a bag and get MC out of there. Take her somewhere nobody else would even think of looking, and send me a coded owl once you're safe. Understand?” 

Leander nodded, his adrenaline beginning to kick in again. “What are you going to do?” 

Harrington gave him a meaningful look. “I'm going to turn Seeker and hunt out this bloody snitch.” 

Leander nodded, gripping tightly to his wand as he pictured the safe house in his mind, and Disapparated out of the dark tunnel. 

To be continued...

Huge thanks, as always, to @eternalremorse and @slytherin-paramour for their support with this fic 💜

Odessa McKinnon is an OC used with the kind permission of @ellivenollivander

Taglist: @evaslytherpuff @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @loving-him-was-red13

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #leander prewett x mc #leander prewett #hogwarts legacy #blueraineshadows #blood bound

[kyojurismo]

★ PROLOGUE

# sub!kyojuro rengoku x fem!reader

summary : your behaviour is starting to change towards him, but kyojuro fears this is only his imagination and that you’re simply lonely and finding a way to enjoy yourself. is there a possibility that you’re actually attracted to him?

chapter tags : sfw, mitsuri makes an appearance, mention of rengoku family, i can’t think of anything else so lemme know if i missed something, 1.6k words — i’ll try to write more for future chapters, pray for me lol.

series masterpost

a/n : hello! i’m both excited and scared to post this lol, writing series and longer fics in general it’s not my forte, so please please please be kind and keep in mind that english is not my first language. i know there’s nothing spicy or truly entertaining — i was lowkey testing the water lmao — but i hope you guys enjoy it anyway <3 ps. lemme know if you wanna be added to my say yes to heaven taglist to be sure to not miss something.

a young, rich woman without a husband? of course people would speculate about it. that’s what your mother used to repeat. because rich women were always seen under a different light.

but, you didn’t care. you never searched for a husband, you knew your worth and that you didn’t need a man to take care of you.

the only man you were able to tolerate was your precious servant, kyojuro rengoku. kyojuro had been working for you for almost three months now, he was a loyal, caring and educated young man. he was working hard to help his family, and nothing seemed to distract him from work.

at least for now.

─────────────────────

the fact that you could work from home was a real blessing. you weren’t a lazy person, you just enjoyed being around him most of the time.

kyojuro was a simple guy. he was always smiling and his voice sounded so comforting and soothing whenever he spoke, whatever the topic. he would be able to smile back at a bully and kindly ask him to not vent their anger on others. that was truly amazing.

his personality was able to overshadow his appearance. no doubts he was an attractive young man, but the moment he started interacting with you – oh, you completely forget about his pretty face. you could ask anyone, they would all reply with the same thing.

you were sitting at the table in your dining room, patiently waiting for your usual breakfast. your eyes were scanning the first pages of the newspaper, devouring the fresh news for the day, when the doors opened. he walked in and served you quietly, before bowing and taking a couple of steps back so he could stay close enough to you if you needed anything, but not that much close to disturb your peaceful breakfast.

“did you sleep well last night, kyojuro?” you suddenly asked him, keeping your gaze focused on the page as you took the first bite of your food. “yes, ma’am,” here came his voice. “i’m glad. as you know, we had to move your room closer to mine for a couple of electrical issues,” from kyojuro’s perspective your tone showed a bit of annoyance, but in reality a part of you was glad that side of your house had been left without light until someone could come to fix the cables. “i understand, but you don’t have to worry about me, ma’am,” he smiled even though he was standing behind you. “i’m happy with everything you decide.”

oh, really?

“now that i think about it, i have a bunch of commissions in town. i’d like for you to accompany me, if that’s alright,” you let a small smirk curve your lips when he hesitated; it was the first time you asked him something like that, after all. could it be a challenge?

“m-ma’am, i’d gladly accompany you but—” you interrupted him, knowing that he was gonna explain he had to stay here since it was his role in the first place. “kyojuro, i’m not really asking for you approval,” your tone sent a shiver down his spine and he cleared his throat. “i will gladly come with you.”

“good boy,” you turned your head to glance at kyojuro and show him a smile, before turning to finish eating your breakfast. that caused you to miss the faint blush appearing on his cheeks at your praise. it was the most casual thing to say, but somehow kyojuro found very pleasurable to hear you say it.

one thing for sure, you weren’t that dumb. you noticed that after such period of service, kyojuro craved your praises whenever he did something for you. it made him feel good and sent a pleasant feeling through his whole body. all this from just the thought of making you feel satisfied with his work.

would you be able to get something more from him at this point?

─────────────────────

you were staring out the window quietly, watching with little interest the people and the buildings passing by. “i’ve never been in this part of the city,” you heard kyojuro’s comment and turned to look at him, catching him staring out with a sweet smile on his face. “i realise you rarely leave the house…” your voice is low but it still reached his ears.

“ma’am, there’s no need for you to feel bad. that’s just my job,” he tilted his head to the side and smiled at you, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. he looked so… adorable.

“i’ll let you come with me more often,” you assured with a smile then grabbed a little notebook with a pen, handing them to him. “you can write down the places you want to visit next time.”

kyojuro was surprised but nodded eagerly, genuinely appreciating it. he indeed wrote down a bunch of places, but the dream of coming here again felt distant to him nonetheless.

when the car stopped, you jumped off followed by him and started walking towards your usual clothes shop. kyojuro glanced around curiously while you looked around for a new elegant dress. “what do you think?” he turned his head to look at you, noticing you were holding a sleeveless dark blue dress into your hands. “u-um, it looks good.”

were you really asking him for advice?

“i’ll try it on then,” you smirked at him and walked towards the dressing rooms section. kyojuro followed you swiftly, in case you would need something.

“i need help with closing the back!” you called from behind the curtain. you waited patiently for him, since he seemed to be quite hesitant to enter inside. it was the first time you asked for something like this. “kyo– oh, i thought you left without me,” you chuckled and watched him from the reflection.

his hands were warm against your skin, as he helped you close the dress. his cheeks were slowly turning red as he timidly glanced at your reflection, your cleavage more visible than usual now. “it looks beautiful,” his smile showed he was a bit embarrassed, but sincere. you turned to face him and smiled, watching him scan your figure. “yeah… really beautiful.”

you laughed before patting his arm playfully. “relax! you’re so tensed,” you exclaimed while turning around. you glanced at yourself into the mirror, it was indeed a beautiful dress. “i’m gonna buy this one then,” you announced, satisfied.

you then started taking the dress off before catching his eyes into the mirror. “are you waiting for a show?” you smirked at him and kyojuro’s eyes widened while his whole face turned red, quickly followed by his ears. “i-i’m sorry!” he was quick to exit and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

you found yourself enjoy teasing him. his reactions were cute. in fact, you kept doing it for the whole day. the mischievous touches whenever you were sitting next to each others, the compliments clearly going further that of a friendly relationship between a servant and his madam. kyojuro was left speechless most of the time, with red cheeks and his heart close to jump out of his chest.

but was it real or was it all in his head though?

─────────────────────

“no way!” mitsuri jumped in her seat, looking at her friend. “oh, kyojuro!” she grabbed his hands, making him gasp. “what are you gonna do about it?” he frowned at her words. “nothing?”

it was his day off work and kyojuro always tried to meet up with mitsuri, one of his childhood best friends.

mitsuri glared at him, almost offended. “what do you mean by that?!” she hit his chest, exasperated with him. “she’s clearly enjoying your company and there might be something more going on between you and her. take this opportunity!”

“i would never take advantage of her like that,” kyojuro’s tone was serious. “i work for her, she probably just feels lonely and that’s her way to have some fun. i can’t blame her at all. plus…” his voice trailed off. “plus??” mitsuri waited expectantly for him to continue. “i like getting her attention, so i don’t really want to ruin anything,” he confessed it in a very low tone, mitsuri had to lean closer to hear him clearly.

“ooh, i knew it!” she clapped her hands happily and smiled sweetly at him. “alright, do as you please… but lemme know if something changes!” she made him promise, showing him her pinkie. “don’t worry, nothing will happen between me and her,” he said while raising his own pinkie, locking them together. “a girl can dream!”

kyojuro found himself smile then while listening to her rambling about some sweet guy working with her, as they kept sitting at the restaurant table enjoying their lunch together. she was a very lively person and was usually seen smiling most of the time. he enjoyed her company and was happy to be her friend.

after that, kyojuro would usually visit his family and give them his monthly payment, making sure they could easily afford any kind of costs. he was mostly working to help them, after all.

you never took advantage of his need to work, you actually admired him. not many would do the same and kyojuro was really a son to be proud of. you hoped his father was aware of such thing. you were for sure and, deep down, a part of kyojuro wanted you to be proud of him…

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