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ravenna-reid · 1 month

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Admirer from the past...

TW: blood, mention of dead bodies and stalking/obsessive behaviour

An expert crime fighter. One of the youngest CEOs. A skilled detective. As good as the Bat. Maybe even better than him.

Tim often found himself conversing with police officers and other detectives that were actually qualified unlike him. Discussing the crime scene, the criminal, the victim, and the next course of action. They all respected Tim and were willing to work together.

One night Tim found himself standing amongst the chaos of the press, the solemn faces of detectives and officers and a name written in blood covering the footpath along with other gory things... The crimson letters painting the cement were a confronting display.

It was the works of a new villain, one that had only just started doing such things two weeks ago. He was one of the most psychotic men Tim had ever dealt with. And it seemed he had a nasty obsession with some poor girl, given he was constantly leaving dead bodies and flowers strewn across Gotham City dedicated to her.

Honestly, the situation twisted Tim's stomach, making him all the more adamant on finding this fucked up guy in hopes of sparing his target the fear and trauma.

Tim kept to himself as he tried to analyse the scene, picking up clues and taking his own samples. That was until the screech of tires on the road caught his attention. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw another well known detective pull up beside the crime scene and hastily get out of his car. And with him a woman. Tim quickly let his eyes glance over you. You wore a fitted suit, golden hoops and your hair thrown up into a french twist. Throwing your trench coat over your shoulders, you hurriedly followed the detective with an unimpressed look on your face.

"If you haven't even caught the assailant yet, why am I here Harry?" You asked before you fell into step with your co-worker and friend. He was almost like an older brother to you.

"Because, I need your input. Your analysis. This guy is a fucking nut and we have no idea how to predict what he's gonna do next."

Intelligence and class seemed to drip off of you, and Tim was immediately smitten interested in you. He even found himself wondering if you were seeing the man you had arrived with.

Surely not, he was old enough to be your father.

You and Harry ducked under the police tape, your hands in your pockets and eyes trained on the gruesome scene. Black roses coated in thick blood decorated the ground around your boots. You instantly grimaced.

Harry made his way over to the group and greeted Tim first.

"Red Robin." He said with a nod.

"Detective." Tim said back, eyes still trained on you.

You turned in a circle to take it all in before nearing the group. "So, do we have anything on this guy?"

"Red Robin managed to hack into one of the shops security systems. The one across the street. With the footage he retrieved, we can see this sick bastard commit the crime, but his face is obscured."

You were watching Red Robin as the officer spoke, a little taken aback to see a vigilante standing in front of you. Let alone one of the bats.

"Can I see the footage?" You asked, eyes gazing back at his.

Tim swallowed hard. Your eye contact was unwavering, and he could feel a blush begin to creep onto his face.

"Miss, are you even a detective or-"

"Of course." Tim cut the officer off, handing you the tablet that sat atop a police car.

"It's fine," Harry said with the wave of his hand, "She's with me. She knows what she's doing."

Tim watched you analyse the footage. The man was wearing a cap, and some sort of odd make-up was smeared across his face. It might have even be blood you thought. You attentively watched the criminals behaviour. His mannerisms. The odd tick in his left shoulder. The limp in his right leg.

"Anything?" Tim asked.

His voice was like wine and you couldn't help but breathe in his cologne. You might come along to see these crime scenes more often.

"There's something." You admit with the furrow of your brows. "The way he moves. I can't put my finger on it though..."

Tim observed the badge clipped to the collar of your shirt. Although he could read what your occupation was, your coat was covering your name.

"Forensic psychologist?"

What a stupid moment to be making small talk. He began to chastise himself and his lack of charisma, but you didn't seem to mind, much to his relief.

"Mhm. Know what that is?" You teased, anticipating the Red Robin's response.

Tim smirked. "No actually, never heard of it."

You gave a light laugh and Tim felt he had to keep the conversation going.

"Are you new at this?" He asked. "I haven't seen you before."

"Not really," you replied with a soft smile. "It's my second year."

"Yeah, and she beats everyone in the game." Harry called out with a chuckle. You tried to hide your blush, but your humility mixed with your attempt to hide your reaction made Tim like you even more.

But the longer you watched the footage it suddenly dawned on you. The puzzles snapped together in your head and left you a little shocked. Tim immediately took note of the change in your demeanour.

"What is it?"

You held onto the tablet tightly. "I think I know who this is. The twitch. The limp. The hunched form and what he's doing..."

"Holy shit..." Harry said as the others all gawked at the writing on the ground.

Tim ignored them, focusing his full attention onto you.

"Back when I was just a psychologist. This guy came to me, I'm sure of it." You looked back up at Tim now, but before either of you could say anything, Harry called your name.

"You better get over here."

You and Red Robin joined the group, and as you looked down at the name on the footpath, your soul immediately dropped down to your feet.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked, looking up at Harry then at you. But now that you had moved, the name on your badge was revealed to Tim.

Everyone suddenly turned to look at you. And all you could do was stare down at the red letters before you.

"That's my name."

Continue to Part Two here

#tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake robin #tim drake x reader #timothy drake #red robin x reader #red robin #dca fandom #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #angst #tim drake angst

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makrustic · 19 days

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A Landscape Pixelartist reviews the XPPEN Artist Pro 14 (2nd Gen)! 🐦🌿

XPPEN was kind enough to send me this to finish my latest piece on; and it is here to stay for me to make more pixelart on it. Review below! ✍️ ———

Here are my thoughts using it for a week:

- The 1920x1200 Display makes drawing comfortable and manageable, while being amazingly bright and color accurate.

- The 16K-Pressure Pen draws responsively, along with its Felt-Tip Nibs—that comes with its Metal Case—feel very natural.

- It also comes with a Customizable Wireless Remote that can house all your shortcuts!

- The tablet itself has Built-In Foldable Legs that serves as a sufficient-enough stand.

- And my fave feature, is if your device has a USB-C port, you can plug it in using only *one cable*. ———

- The only problem I encounter is if the ambient room temp is quite warm, the tablet tends to heat up, especially around where the cable connects to it.

- I also suggest getting a separate stand that offers higher angles if you are prone to neck pain from looking down too often. ———

Overall, The Certified Cluster Commando approves!

Thank you XPPEN for sending me this tablet for reviewing! ❤️

And as a bonus, they have given us a 5%-OFF Discount Code 'makrustic5' on products in their store!

US store: https://bit.ly/4a6xrIi CA store: https://bit.ly/3yaDMW0

#ad #xppen #review #pixel art #art #artists on tumblr #pixelart #aesthetic #digital art #landscape #nature art #nature

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russellsppttemplates · 3 months

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Do you know the little fishes? (Charles Leclerc)

Charles' attention is drawn to the way you're invested in your home country's football qualifying game

Note: english is not my first language. I love me some football and I sort of channelled my energy from the last game we lost too! On the side, if you haven't already, you can read this one here where it goes well for the reader's team!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Charles didn't mind watching the football despite Monaco not having their own national team. He often supported the country the people watching the game with him were supporting or the best nations throughout history in which he recognised the biggest legends of the sport.

However, when he met you, the perspective shifted, especially for your national team. No matter where you were in the world, you would get up at an ungodly hour to watch the football, kissing Charles' forehead and tucking the sheets back in as you moved to another part of the room, sometimes the living room part of the room was that big, your tablet in hand as you watched the game, trying your best to keep quiet as you knew your boyfriend needed his sleep.

"Amour, at what time is the game today?", Charles asked as he poured himself some water from the glass bottle. Because it was a night race, he didn't have to go to the paddock until after lunch, and since you were on the other side of the world, the football game was on at breakfast time.

"It's in thirty minutes", you smiled, "do you mind it if we have breaking the room instead of downstairs? Or you can go downstairs while I watch the football, I have some snacks from the plane", you quickly reassured.

Charles smiled, grabbing his phone and tapping in the hotel app, "like I'd let you watch the game on your own", he shook his head, "I know how important it is to you", he kissed your forehead, sitting next to you as you watched the players warm up on the TV, kissing the top of your head, "are you thinking eggs or something sweeter?".

"He's not playing?", Charles questioned as they recorded the players on the bench, "no, he picked up an injury in training, I'm not sure how we're going to do today", you mumbled, "but the guy that's going in his place is very good, he's a bit young but everyone says he's a prodigy", you attempted to lift your own spirits.

The breakfast arrived a little after the first kick, Charles getting it from the door and making sure to display it on the table in front of you without blocking your view, having been once hit with a pillow when he walked in front of the screen just as your team did the last penalty shoot out for the final round of qualifiers.

"Here's your latte, gorgeous", he said when the game was a little quieter, earning him a kiss on his cheek from you, "thank you, they're playing really well", you groaned as the other team kept approaching the goal.

It only took the opposing team a few minutes to score the first goal, the fans recorded on the stands erupting in cheer as you crossed your arms over your chest, straightening up your back and looking at the replay of the goal, seeing no issue and slumping your shoulders, "it's a good goal", you mumbled.

"Like you always say, there's still a lot of game to play, amour", Charles added as your eyes followed the ball, feeling his hand back on your thigh and squeezing it.

"C'mon, you can do better than that, I know you can!", you groaned as another ball hit the bar.

Rubbing your forehead in circles, you sighed as your team scored just before half-time, "this isn't going anywhere! Our defense is like a large fishing net, everyone can get through and skip throughout them! They need to be those fishing nets that they use to get the little fishes! Do you know the little fishes, Charles?", you showed him your fingers almost pinched together, "the holes in the fishing net are so so so tiny that no fish can escape!", you spoke passionately, getting up to use the bathroom quickly.

"They're all playing really well", you said as you noticed the players going back in the pitch, doing all sorts of exercises, "they're just trying to go from the wings and it's so much clearer on the middle section", you reasoned as Charles nodded, "maybe the coach told them in the dressing room, they all look like they've had their behind handed to them on a platter", Charles chuckled, "they deserve it", you smiled, resting your back against his chest.

"Now the referee? I mean, c'mon!", you grunted, seeing the man in the pink t-shirt run to the screen and analyse the footage, "Oh, it looks like it's a penalty", you admitted despite not loving the fact, "maybe he won't see it", you shrugged innocently.

"I'm sure they'll notice it, chérie", Charles offered, not reading into your sarcasm before you looked up at him, "a girl can dream, handsome, a girl can dream".

The second part kept growing in tension, the other team scoring twice in the space of five minutes after scoring the penalty, "I can't watch this anymore", you sighed, eyes focused on the screen as they were waiting to validate a goal, the offside lines not clear enough on the moment and requiring further analysis.

"It's impressive how much they can get to know with technologies these days", Charles chirped in, hoping to distract you enough to relax against his embrace, "they also waste a lot of time though. I timed the game a couple of months ago and they only had the ball rolling for a little over an hour in total. Imagine if you had to do fifteen laps under a safety car", you tried the comparison.

Luckily, the goal was indeed offside, but your team still couldn't manage to out the ball in the opponent's net.

"Is it bad if I say that we're being robbed even though the other team is playing better?", you squinted, seeing the referee had given an extra time of three minutes, the players just making sure the ball never left the middle of the pitch, trying to leave the score unaltered.

"It was a well disputed match still, they didn't have luck on their side", Charles said, rubbing your arm gently and kissing the side of your head as you waited to the final whistle.

When you got to the track, Carlos was the first one to come and talk to you, "so, Y/N, that face can only mean you've watched the football", he teased.

The frown was a little evident as soon as you didn't feel the public eye on you, knowing they would be quick to judge, "they did their best, and their best was a little bit shit today", you shrugged your shoulders, "sometimes it's like this", you quoted your boyfriend, taking comfort in his words you usually hated when they left his mouth.

"She was a great supporter though, she got up early, she had the stripes of paint on her cheeks, her scarf and her t-shirt", Charles noted, "she was the most dedicated, cheerful and the best supporter, it's a shame they didn't feel it!".

"Now I'm going to support Ferrari, and you boys better not disappoint me", you snickered, kissing Charles' lips one last time before they headed off to their meeting.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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hollybell51 · 11 months

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here me out. Adam Warlock and sex pollen.

It's ok - one

Navigation

Part two

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: foreign flora has an unexpected effect on your human physiology.

Content: sex pollen and associated DUBCON, fuck-or-die, smut, maybe very slight perviness (but I don't think it's creepy or really triggering), Adam being down bad, SMUT. Gratuitous smut. Non-explicit masturbation, handjobs (kinda), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's a virgin, reader isn't, bit on angst, unresolved, there will be part 2. Maybe some out of character-ness, but it's hard cause he only had like 10 minutes screen time so what I've written is based on my own interpretation and what I've read since I watched the movie

Notes: I hear you anon! I actually haven't done sex pollen before, though I always found it kinda fun, so this was new to me. I actually wrote a part 2 which I'll post with this, and that's much of the same xx. Also sorry I haven't done anything in ages, I've been super under the weather and busy so I haven't really had time lmao. Anyways, have fun with this!

“Hey, did you get through those notes?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, seeming to bounce off the lush petals of the giant flowers towering overhead. The local flora was all supersized, bigger than anything Adam had ever seen, and filtered the harsh light of the planet’s nearest star in sickly sweet hues of pinks, greens, yellows and even blue.

“Breathable atmosphere, mostly docile wildlife. Predators are nocturnal.”

“Ok, just… How much longer are we gonna be out here?”

Adam turned, letting the machete you’d armed him with – “bush bashing. Gotta learn those life skills, huh?” – hang by his side. You were panting, face flushed and beaded with sweat as you planted your hands on your hips and frowned at him. Even like this, speckled with bright yellow and orange pollen and clearly uncomfortable, Adam couldn’t ignore the odd swooping sensation in his gut. It was like someone was constantly pulling a rug from under his feet.

He checked the time displayed on the tablet. “Two hours. Maybe less. Are you ok?”

You groaned, but nodded and walked the few paces to stand beside him. “Goddamn flower dumped its load all over me. You sure this shit is breathable?”

The atmosphere. Right, you were joking about the humidity. “If you don’t mind a bit of a steam,” he tried, smiling at the short bark of laughter the remark conjured.

You tapped his machete-holding hand, jerking your head towards the wall of fleshy greenery. “Nice. Let’s just get this over with.”

Adam simply nodded. The falling feeling had been replaced by something warm and sticky, the simple touch and your laugh flowing like syrup to sit low inside him. It had been like this for a while now, since he’d started really talking to you, spending time with you, noticing things about you. Like your hair, now dusted with fiery plant spores and stuck to your forehead, and how it caught the lights of Knowhere just right when you sat down beside him to eat. Or the little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you smiled – really smiled. The High Evolutionary had disliked wrinkles and other physical signs of ageing, viewed them as imperfect and a blight on existence. Adam could have stared at yours all day.

“Can I see that?”

Again, Adam stopped and turned. You were craning at the tablet, your hand absently running around the collar of your suit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just… It’s really hot. Do you feel that?”

Adam shrugged. Temperature wasn’t a huge concern to him, but you looked truly uncomfortable now. “Humidity can often make it feel hotter than it is.”

“I know, but…” You grimaced, pulling your collar down further and wriggling your shoulders. “I feel really hot. Worse than before.”

Adam frowned. He knew humans were often sensitive to their environment, much more so than was practical, but you seemed more affected than you should be. There were places on Earth hotter than the current reading, you’d told him that, so why were you–?

The comm on his wrist buzzed, Rocket’s voice crackling across the emergency frequency. “Warlock? You copy?”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, still watching you. You were taking a semi-restrained drink from your flask, no doubt aware that it had to last the whole trek and back.

“Is (Y/N) with you?”

“Yeah, why?” As he watched, you held the back of your hand up to your forehead, then your cheek, then your neck. The suit still seemed to be bothering you.

“Are you on the ground?”

“Yes.”

“You need to get out of there.”

Adam didn’t think he was imagining the urgency in the raccoon’s voice, distorted as it was over the distance. He was in an entirely different corner of the galaxy, after all. “Why? What’s wrong?”

A pause, then, “The flowers, they’re… uh, they’re kinda…”

“They are very powerful aphrodisiacs!” Ah, Kraglin, just as worried-sounding as Rocket. “They can be harmful to humans!”

Your other hand had joined the first on your face, but it didn’t seem to be doing a lot. You’d managed to get the zipper on your suit down, the neck pulled down to expose your shoulders and collar bones, the skin there just as flushed as your face.

“What?”

Rocket groaned, but Kraglin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Aphrodisiacs,” he repeated. “If she breathes the pollen her body temperature will rise until she develops a fever, and if she doesn’t have sex she could die.”

His entire (relatively short) life, Adam’s mother – and pretty much everyone else – had been more than generous in pointing out that he was lacking, that he was slower than he should be, that he was not up to the same speed as they were. It was because he’d left the cocoon early, he knew that, but he’d never really felt that much slower. Maybe a little, but he’d always understood where he’d gone wrong and why. This was totally different. For the first time, Adam felt like he was lagging behind.

“What?” he asked again. “What do you mean if she doesn’t have sex she’ll die?”

“Makes ya horny, genius. Means what exactly that. Fuck or die.” Rocket took over, clearing his throat. “I’m reading off the notes, bit further down. It’s small, so you might have missed it. It says it works normal for most species, but humans are more fragile so…”

Yes, that made sense. Adam couldn’t remember that in what he’d read, but he’d also been distracted by your legs slung across his and the little wrinkle that had appeared between your brows as you’d carefully packed your bag, sliding everything perfectly into place. He’d wanted to just reach across and run his thumb over the line, smooth it away forever.

Now, that same bag thudded as it hit the ground and you frantically fanned yourself, eyes closed. There was no telling if you’d heard the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to waste time finding out.

“Ok, I’ll, uh, get her back to the ship.”

“She ok?”

He paused for a moment, then settled on, “yeah, she’ll be fine.”

“You got this, golden boy.” The radio crackled and fell silent, and that was that. What a great help.

“(Y/N)?” he ventured, picking up your pack. “Did you get all that?”

You nodded, wriggling to get the zipper further undone. Your back was beaded with sweat, and in any other circumstance, maybe Adam would have let himself dwell more on the soft contours of your spine, the roll of your shoulder blades, the harsh line of your bra strap in contrast to your smooth skin.

“I’m really… It’s so hot, holy shit. Why’s it gotta be so hot?”

“I think that’s the fever bit. Come on, we should get back.”

You drew a sharp breath when his hand met your back, your whole body tensing.

Adam withdrew at light speed. “Sorry, I didn’t–”

“No,” you cut him off, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Ok.”

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you’d set out, but it felt like a long time to get back. You were slower, for one, stumbling and muttering apologies whenever you became disorientated – which was often – and wriggling like your clothes were full of insects. Your breath came heavy, your skin becoming more and more flushed as you drew closer to the ship, and you looked so uncomfortable it made something twist inside Adam.

“I heard it,” you panted, stepping clumsily over a root. “What Kraglin said.”

“Oh,” was all Adam could think of.

“You don’t— You shouldn’t— You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Hey, no, it’s ok. You’ll be ok.”

“I’m– fuck, Adam.”

“You’ll be ok, (Y/N). We can sort this out.”

“I don’t wanna force you to do anything–”

How cruel could the Universe be? Adam wondered as he patted your shoulder – then regretted it when you stumbled. You were the first person he’d really wanted anything with, the first person he’d thought about and imagined and, dare he say it, fantasised about, and now you were worried you were going to somehow hurt him or make him do something he didn’t want to. It was sweet, bitterly so, and ironic enough to feel like a punch in the stomach. If anyone should be worried, it should be him. After all, how were you ever going to look at him the same way after this? How was he going to look at himself the same way?

“I’m so…” You broke off as you emerged into the clearing where the ship was parked, a sob – relief or something else, Adam couldn’t tell – torn from you.

Your legs were shaking now, your skin so hot Adam could feel it through the material of your suit. He helped you quickly aboard, avoiding your eyes as you peeled the suit from your shoulders and pushed yourself against the cool wall. The pollen still lay over your hair and clothes, insultingly cheerful and innocent.

He sighed. “We should get rid of that.”

“Huh?”

“The suit. It’s got pollen all over it.”

“Oh, right.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, peeling the material from your body without a second thought. Well. Adam hadn’t expected that. Trying not to watch as you sunk down to the floor, he shoved the offending clothing into the disposal to be dealt with later.

“You should probably take a shower. There’s pollen in your hair and… on you.”

You nodded, legs pressed firmly together, arms spread over the cool surface at your back. “Yeah, sure, I… Can you… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry I—”

“It’s ok, (Y/N), don’t worry.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but seemed to help a little. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need…” You trailed off in a low whimper, your legs shaking now. You didn’t even seem to notice you were in nothing but your underwear. “I…”

Again, that twisting feeling. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with a relieved sigh, your head tipping back.

So Adam went with you, helping you into the tiny decontamination spray shower, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible – not for lack of trying on your part. You seemed to gravitate towards him, pressing your body into his hands wherever they lay, leaning hard against him. Your breath was still laboured, your face still pink, but it seemed less painful now that you had direction and were free of the suit. You’d stopped wriggling, anyway.

You sighed as you sank down to the floor, your fingers vice-like around Adam’s. His free hand found the taps easily, turning on a cool jet and directing it to the pollen in your hair. It flowed down your neck and shoulders, an orange river spiralling into the drain.

“I’m sorry,” you said for what must have been the millionth time, your own free hand pressed between your legs, tension radiating from every line of your body. “I’m so sorry, Adam.”

“Hey, no, don’t be. It’s going to be ok.” He crouched, ignoring the water as he reached across to lay a hand on your forehead. You practically whined at the contact, your fingers tangling even harder with his, skin hot despite the cold water.

“(Y/N)?” he said softly.

“Hm?

“Rocket, uh… Rocket said the pollen’s an aphrodisiac.”

“Yeah, I – fuck – I know. Trust me.”

“He said it works, um, strongly on humans.” Adam paused, heart pounding. Why did it have to be you, of all people? And why him? “If you don’t,” he continued, “you know… The fever might get high enough to kill you.”

“Oh fuck, come on!” Water sprayed where your foot slapped the shower floor, your voice echoing.

Adam had never felt worse about anything. “I’m sorry, I should have checked the notes first, I didn’t even consider–”

You didn’t seem to care. “So now I’m gonna overheat and die?”

“Unless you have sex. With someone.”

Your head thudded on the wall, a sob flopping wetly from your throat. “Fuck this. Does it have to be with someone? Will it work if I just… do it myself?”

“Uh, actually, I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused, unsure, then, “Do you want to try?”

“Yeah, yeah I—” You took a shuddering breath, blinking through the water dripping over your face. “Yeah.”

Adam nodded, standing. “I’ll… I’ll be around. If you need anything.”

“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, so wretched it made his heart hurt. You released his hand, and he turned quickly to leave you alone, your relieved moan following him out the door. Adam didn’t like this, not at all. You weren’t quiet, though he supposed that wasn’t your fault, and he hated, really hated the heat your moans and gasped curses sparked in him. It was wrong, so wrong, and he should not be here. But he couldn’t leave you.

“Fuck, fuck oh my God–” you cried eventually, a wet thud echoing through the wall. “Oh my– fuck fucking fuck!”

Adam listened carefully, unsure whether or not he should…

“Adam?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t…” You broke off in a sob, genuine fear lacing your voice. “Fuck.”

“(Y/N)?” He stepped back into the shower, pausing only for a moment to take in the mess that was you. Your hand was still between your legs, thighs spread wide, panties crumpled in a wet bundle in the corner and your bra pulled halfway down your torso. In any other situation, it would have been the hottest thing Adam had ever seen.

“I can’t… It didn’t work, I’m still so hot, why am I so goddamn hot?”

Adam cursed as he crouched beside you, taking your free hand only a little gingerly. He cursed fate and circumstance, himself for not reading the notes properly, Rocket and Kraglin for not miraculously having a cure, and you for still looking so fucking beautiful while you were quite literally dying. He swore that if – when – he and you got out of this, he was going to burn that whole jungle.

“We’ll fix this,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You sighed at the contact, shifting closer.

He frowned. “Is that…?”

“Feels better when you touch me,” you murmured.

That was going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it. This whole ordeal was going to haunt him, and probably not in the way it should have. He already knew he’d be seeing your shoulders silky with the water, your back slicked with sweat and the smooth curve of your thigh for months, let alone everything else. Wrong wrong wrong wrong, he reminded himself.

“Do you…” He stopped. It was absurd. It was wrong. It was not something he’d ever live down.

Your eyes were open, overly bright and dark with want, searching his face like he held all the answers. You were still so flushed, hair plastered to your forehead and dark with the water, lips parted and so, so pink.

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes.” The syllable was torn from you, ragged and desperate, followed quickly by another sob. You shook your head. “I don’t want to pressure you, don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.”

He could have laughed. How were you still so focussed on that of all things? It brought that syrupy feeling back, only now it was darker, hotter, and tinged with guilt.

“It’s ok,” he said softly. “(Y/N), it’s ok. Don’t worry.” He carefully moved his hand to your face, pushing the wet hair off your forehead.

You leaned into it as you had before, your eyes closed. “Then yeah, I… Fuck, Adam, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I want you.”

It wasn’t you. Not really. He did his best to ignore the spread of the tingling warmth, his own want, as he helped you to your feet and did his best to dry you – again, as gently as he could. You just let him, casting your bra away when he paused at it, still struggling to stand and trying your best to get as close to him as you could.

Vaguely, Adam wondered how the hell this would actually work. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with much of anything before he met you and the other Guardians, let alone sex, and he had no idea if you had either. He somehow doubted you were in the same position as he was – you were gorgeous, after all, and so friendly it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up head over heels for you sooner.

He really wished this wasn’t happening. He wished you really did want him, that he’d worked up the guts to ask Quill about Gamora and how that had gone before he’d taken off, then told you about his feelings properly. If he’d gotten that far, he was sure you’d have shown him how it went with the same patience and care you’d shown him everything, and he’d have liked to have taken his time. He’d have liked to kiss you, touch your pretty hands and hold you close, feel you all over and let you take the lead, tell you about the things he thought about you and everything you did to him.

But it was happening, and you were probably not going to want to talk to him after it had run its course. At least you’d be alive.

You’d stumbled to a bed – one of the standard fold-out ones – beside him, and now he sat you down on its edge. You hadn’t released your hold, pulling him down with you, hands flying straight to the fastening of his own damn suit.

“Is this ok?” you breathed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your hands were flitting everywhere; his hair, his neck, along his jaw, his face, his own hands. You were very clearly trying very hard to make yourself slow down, wait, and Adam’s heart melted.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s all ok. You do what you need to.”

A sigh of relief, a soft “thank you,” and then you were clambering into his lap and peeling his clothes off like it was nothing, your lips hot and hard against his. Adam hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he’d seen enough movies – most of them with you – to know that this wasn’t how it usually went. There was little technique or rhythm, more your tongue licking into his mouth, teeth occasionally knocking against his, so forceful he wondered if it was hurting you.

You’d completely stripped him remarkably fast, and now your hands explored his shoulders and arms, trailing goosebumps down his chest and stomach. You fit perfectly over him, and he allowed himself to run his own hands up your back, down again, over your hips, finally settling in the curve of your waist. How often had he wondered what it would be like to hold you there?

You moaned, the heat at your centre slick and wet against his own rapidly hardening dick. And now you were moving, too, grinding against him like your life depended on it and why had nobody told Adam it could feel like this?

You’d broken the kiss, your lips swollen and even redder than they’d been before, your hands now in his hair, fingers tugging ever so gently. Adam had to stifle his own little sound of pleasure, bending his head to kiss at your neck and those collar bones he could look at forever. You gasped a “yes” when his tongue darted out to taste the skin, the faint tang of sweat mingling with the sweetness of the water that had dripped there from your still-damp hair.

Your fingers tightened in his own hair, the delicious pull sending more heat straight down. You directed his head in that direction, too, arching your back until his mouth found the soft mound of your breast and he licked, then on a whim, sucked.

“Oh, yes, Adam–” you panted, your movements becoming even more frantic.

“Hm?”

“Oh, that’s– that’s so good.”

Did you know what you were doing to him? Adam supposed you didn’t, sucking again at a different spot, licking it, placing a kiss there, moving on. Rinse and repeat.

Then your hands disappeared from his hair – that was a shame, but this wasn’t about him – and the next moment your fingers were wrapped around his cock and you were stroking it better than he ever had, your palm a million times softer than his, sliding easily with your own slick.

“Can I?” you were asking. “Please, Adam, can I?”

You could do whatever you wanted, Adam didn’t care. If he’d thought about it, he’d have realised that he actually liked the idea of you having your way with him, using him for your own pleasure, taking what you needed from him. But he didn’t think about it, he was too caught up in the smell and taste of your skin, the little sounds you were making, the wonderful movement of your hand.

“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, go ahead, (Y/N). Please, just– just go ahead.”

You were moving, rising on those wonderful thighs and your hand was moving too, something hot and slick rubbing over the head of his dick and then holy shit Adam’s mind went blank. If he’d thought you felt hot before, it was nothing compared to this. He groaned in unison with you as you sank down, taking him fully and gripping his shoulders, your breath fanning his face. You fit perfectly around him, squeezing spongy and smooth, and nothing could have prepared him for it.

You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising off him – for a second he wondered if that was it, if you were pulling away – before you sank back down. You did it again, then again, and again and again until the only sounds in the room were your breaths mingling with his, your unrestrained little moans and his own half-stifled ones, the slap of your skin on his.

Adam held you close, hands still anchored to your waist, transfixed by the silken heat of you and the brush of your chest against his, the bounce of your breasts and solidity of your body on top of his.

“Feels so fucking good,” you panted. “No idea, so fucking – shit – good–”

“(Y/N),” he choked, unable to form a single coherent thought.

“You’re so good, Adam oh my God.”

Something was building in his stomach, he could feel it. The warm syrupiness was gone, something hotter and harder and so tight coiling in its place, growing with each moan and sigh and whispered curse from you. It was so much, almost too much, and half of his brain wanted you to stop right there. But the other half, the half that created those late-night daydreams, real dreams, half-formed ideas and scenes in his mind… That half wanted you to go harder, slam your hips down faster and say it again, tell him he felt good, he was doing well.

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you murmured, as if you’d read his mind. “You’re so… ah, fuck, Adam, I’m so close–”

Close to what? he wondered vaguely, but the praise was spinning that coil faster, faster, tighter and faster until–

“Adam, oh, Adam—!”

It snapped, electric and white hot and rolling up his spine like a damn shockwave. He could hear you crying his name, your movements slowing and your body spasming around his. He’d cum before, of course he had, but never like this. That had been small and so quick he hadn’t even realised what was happening until he was spilling into his hand or the bedsheets, confined to his dick, never spreading through his whole body and never with that glorious buildup. This was something else entirely.

After what felt like an age, Adam’s mind returned to his body. You were shaking, collapsed against his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, your face pressed into his hair, his own nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You fit so perfectly against him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky even to his own ears.

You didn’t lift your head, but he felt you nod.

“Are you sure? You’re shaking.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine. I feel better, actually. How about you?”

Adam just nodded, unwilling to move. He could feel himself softening inside you, but didn’t want to lose the warmth and the feeling that he was yours, that he was fully with you. But… “Do you want me to stay?”

No response, then a deep sigh. “Yes,” you whispered.

Adam ignored the butterflies and the spark of hope that conjured, opting instead for practicality. He could feel the rapidly cooling sweat on his own back, the coldness of your damp hair, the mess of spend around the place where your body swallowed his.

“I’m going to clean you up,” he said softly, “then I’ll come back. Alright?”

“Ok.”

Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted you off himself and set you down further back on the bed. You whined at the loss of contact, curling in on yourself and shivering. But you weren’t so hot anymore, the flush had been replaced by what he could only describe as a glow and the overly bright look had vanished from your eyes. You really did look better.

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam rose and turned away, making for the cabinet where the medpacks and other supplies were kept. You wanted him to stay. You’d told him he felt good. You’d held him afterwards, let him hold you, and had made no move to make him leave. If anything, you’d looked disappointed when he’d broken the contact. But still, you weren’t yourself.

He paused, a horrible thought crossing his mind. Was he going to end up like Quill? Hopelessly chasing a woman who didn’t feel the same way about him? He hoped not, he’d seen how miserable the man was. But you weren’t hard the way Gamora was -- as much as Adam knew her, anyway, which wasn't much. You were soft and open, and you did care about him, he was sure of it. At least you had.

Shaking his head, Adam returned to the room with a damp cloth in hand.

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly, pausing at the door. No answer.

You were where he’d left you, he saw as he stepped around it, still curled up on your side. Your eyes were closed, the rise and fall of your ribs deep and even. Asleep. The surge of tenderness surprised him, strong enough that he was sure he’d been swamped by an actual wave. You really were beautiful, even damp and naked, lips swollen and hair mussed.

He was careful not to wake you as he brushed the hair off your face, wiped away the worst of the mess, and then pulled a blanket over you. He wondered briefly if he should stay with you, slide down beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, warm you with his body heat and be there to tell you it was all alright when you woke up.

You shifted, heaving a deep breath and adjusting your position minutely, and that decided it. Adam couldn’t disturb you, as much as he wanted to, and there was still your suit and discarded underwear, not to mention the original task. On an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning, scooping his own clothes off the floor and making for the shower.

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock smut #adam warlock x you #gotg3 #mcu #fanfiction #fanfic #shameless smut #smut #marvel #gotg vol 3

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kori-xo · 26 days

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REVERSED ROLES

What if…? You were Spider-Woman, not Miguel.

Summary: Miguel finds out you're Spider-Woman. (it's a drabble, so it's fr not that long)

— — — — — —

Miscalculating your silent entrance, your foot catches on the edge of the windowsill, causing you to stumble until you land inside with a thud.

Jumping up quickly, your eyes flicker around the room, before relaxing as it comes to you.

Miguel is working late. No one else is here but you.

Keeping this whole superhero identity thing from him was no easy task, that's for sure. I mean, how would you explain to your boyfriend that you had a bleeding gash going down your shoulder when you were supposed to be out visiting your Aunt May?

Putting that thought on the backburner, because that gash really does hurt. A lot.

Groaning, you begin to rid yourself of the upper half of your suit, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and lazily shoving it down until it was bunched up just above your chest.

You grab your phone, and the first aid kit from the closet, and make your way over to the connecting bathroom, flicking on the light switch.

Your eyes narrow as they adjust to the sudden bright lights, a sigh pushing past your lips as you toss the first aid onto the bathroom sink before pulling up the latches, searching for the needed tools to patch up this wound.

It's solved like clockwork, and within a matter of minutes, you manage to stop all the bleeding until there's just a large, angry red sign of your late night escapades.

For the record, superheroes should definitely be entitled to financial compensation for this sort of thing.

You decide to warm up a washcloth, to press to and soothe the ache before applying any sort of bandaging. When you wring it out, you ball it up accordingly and press it to your shoulder, holding it there as you sit on the lid of the toilet, your head leaning against the wall.

The moment you relaxed, you felt your eyes get heavy as they started to fall, hearing and senses slowly fading in and out as sleep tried to welcome you into its clutches.

And of course, who were you to fight it?

Every once in a while, you felt a little tingle in the back of your brain, like the alert of your spider-sense, but you brushed it aside both times, assuring your instincts that you were home and safe where you were.

And then, all of a sudden, there's a clatter to the floor.

The sound makes your eyes fly open, and as you glance over to the doorway of the bathroom, whole heartedly expecting to see someone who had broken into your house, nothing could have prepared you for who it really was.

Your boyfriend, Miguel, standing there with eyes wide and jaw fallen in shock.

The clatter was his work tablet, your brain analyzed after a moment, but in your half-sleep state, you were too busy wondering why he looked so surprised to see you sitting on the toilet in the bathroom.

And then it hit you.

You were still in your suit.

Your brain immediately goes into panic mode as your eyes now take the same expression of his, trying to figure out what to say.

Sure, the suit was bunched up at the top, but the rest of it was on full display, from the engraved webbing down to the symbol on your chest, there was no mistaking this, no matter how much lying you'd attempt on him.

Pressing your lips together in an awkward smile/grimace, you break the silence between the two of you by uttering a handful of words.

“...I can explain.”

#yn #random drabbles #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #but you're spider-woman #need to sleep

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pianta · 1 year

Photo

the lovely folks over @ Huion kindly sent me a Kamvas 12 to try !! ♡ a quick review:

🖥 Huion Kamvas 12 is a beginner friendly screen tablet with full HD 12″ display, compatible with windows, mac, linux and android phones. it is not a standalone portable tablet, it will need to be hooked up to a computer with a HDMI port!

🖼 i’ve been using this screen tablet for a month now and i’m really happy with it! this is huion’s smallest model, making it easy to carry and ideal for my small desk. it is a compact, lightweight but high quality screen tablet.

⚙️ set up is straightforward. i had some trouble figuring out pen calibration during set up bc there was some lag/offset, but after some fiddling around it works like a charm and i don’t experience any major lag when doing a stroke - i've tested this both in SAI and CSP.

🎨 the screen resolution is impressive for its size & the colors are popping on this one. its kinda like your drawing on paper bc the screen is semi-matte. it even got customizable hotkeys which i love + u can turn off the screen and use it like a regular drawing tablet no problem

🖊 the pen is battery-free and charges automatically, so if you’re like me and get annoyed by the pen running out while you’re working, this is ideal! it comes with pen holder + extra nibs, a drawing glove, and an optional adjustable stand, making it more ergonomic

tl;dr: i’m impressed! if you think larger screen tablets are a bit intimidating, or you’re used to non-display tablets and are looking to transition to screen displays - this is a great and affordable fit! 💞

i'm so happy to see more affordable options out there so more people can jump in and start drawing digitally. i can highly recommend huion tablets!! if you are interested, you can find more info here! ✨

#art #tablet review #tablet #huion #illustration #art help #artists on tumblr #collab

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succikko-draws · 8 months

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My gift for the hilarious @ladytyburn for the Nagato Birthday gift exchange! Expanding again on her office AU (this is why Kisame has been un-fished a bit YES it felt wrong but I'm strong)

[Image ID: A three page digital comic about Nagato's birthday.

On the first panel, Konan seems to be thinking hard, a cup of coffee in her hand, Itachi stands next to her and asks: "What's wrong Konan?" She explains: "It's Nagato's birthday on Tuesday... And I don't know what to get him..." Itachi innocently answers, thinking about old Madara: "Oh I know the struggle, I never know what to get my grandpa. Old people haha." She put a hand on his shoulder, and tell him through gritted teeth: "Itachi... Nagato is 35." Itachi is very embarrassed and apologizes. Before he can add anything he's interrupted by Deidara who put his hand on Itachi's shoulder, saying to Konan: "You could buy me art!" She asks: "Can you guarantee it won't explode?" to which he answers: "Nope!" so she dismiss the idea. Hidan includes himself in the conversation, suggesting: "Easy! Buy yourself lingerie and surprise him!" Deidara and Itachi are mortified, scolding him: "Hidan! That's so inappropriate! And you can't theorize about the boss' private life!" Konan dismiss the idea, unphased: "Nah I already have enough and picked one already for that night." Itachi is even more mortified, feeling like this is Too Much Info. Sasori chimes in holding a doll still in her box, suggesting it for the present, but Konan dismiss it as well. She says: "I want something truly special. More personal-" Sasori attempt to chime in again, saying: "A you shaped doll-" but she angrily dismiss him again, pushing him down with her hand. Kisame tells her wisely: "You know him the best, Konan. Trust yourself. Pick something that will make you think of him."

On the next page, Konan is out of the office, wearing casual clothes with a small green backpack and wanders what seems to be a mall, still upset and thinking: "... Something that will make me think of him..." Her attention is caught by something and she smiles at last, saying: "Oh! This is!..." On the next panel she holds a book over her head triumphantly, exclaiming: "Our old teach's new book!! Yes! This is perfect!! He loved the first one!" She is standing next to a book display with a poster of Jiraiya in a funny pose and goofy expression, the poster reads: "New! By 'best seller' '''author''' Jiraiya." On the next panel, time has past and it is now Nagato's birthday. He is late at work, just closing his laptop, appearing tired and saying: "-Sigh- It's already 7 pm. I didn't see time pass by... Again... Time to go home." But as he comes out of his office on his wheelchair (wearing his coat and froggie slippers), he is surprised by loud exclamations and the pop of multiple party horns and confetti thrower. His employees yells: "Happy birthday boss!!" While he looks horrified and genuinely scared.

On the next panel, the office is all prepped for a party, a tablet is set up with Zetsu the plant (wearing a bowtie), a cake and a bottle of champagne. Hidan is holding balloons and is yelling, pointing at the table: "We even got you a cake!" A banner hanging on the wall reads: "Happy 635th birthday!" Deidara is screaming: "I got fireworks!" holding one up in the air. On the side, Kakuzu is sleeping on an office chair next to a table with a cup on it. A caption reads: "was drugged to avoid a money tantrum." Nagato is all confused, hair disheveled by the shock. Konan is standing in the middle, holding her present, looking all embarrassed, she tells him: "I'm so sorry, I didn't know they'd do this..." She then give him the present, watching him unwrap it with a soft smile, reminiscing a dear memory of their teacher putting his hands on their head when they were kids, Nagato holding his book preciously. She says: "I took Kisame's advice and picked something that made me think of us... I think you'll love it." The background behind her is made of grey and pinkish roses. But when Nagato unwraps the book he totally misses the author name and is instead shocked to read the big warning in the corner: "R18, this is porn." He turns red and sit shocked and confused with the book in his hands. The background behind him is a collage of ahegaos (I'm sorry). Konan put her hands next to her face, smiling wide and asking: "So... Do you like it?" Next to her is a caption pointing at her: "Genuinely did not check." She looks so happy but Nagato is still red and confused, he doesn't want to offend her and ruin her happiness so he answers: "Y-yes thank you." Everyone in the room (even the plant) looks at him with a knowing naughty smile as he gets even more embarrassed, Nagato frowns wondering: "Why in front of everyone!" /.End ID]

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gomzwrites · 11 months

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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

a/n: Im fERAL over Professor Price contents, and I NEED MORE- so here's my take, with a spin! >:)

Pairing: Professor John Price x fem!reader x Mr Simon Riley

Notes:

✎…Banner taken from Pinterest and edited, drawing done by @gomzdraws ✎…Reader's texts are in purple, indented text are memories ✎…Want to be added into a tag list? click here ✎…Part 1 (you're here!) is introduction, just me setting the scene for our reader and displaying the vibes from Price and Riley in this AU ✎…Part 2 is smut :) tags will be shown there but in short it is a slow build up ✎…Chocolate is just my thoughts, process, notes, recommendations and future planning for the series, I welcome discussions over there if you're interested :D

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

➵ Part 1

You rubbed your eyes as you finished scribbling around your tablet, noting down the last important point of the lecture with a small yawn. Maybe staying up late and studying four chapters ahead was not a good idea after all. But you always study ahead because you take a longer time to understand and digest information. Not that you’re slow or anything, but sometimes the lecturers speak too fast or brush over some points that make you feel puzzled or confused, and that confusion often carries on to the next content, but feeling prepared for a lesson is also a good practice even if that is not the case.

"That will be all for today."

The statement elicited a few cheers and sighs from the students as Mr. Simon Riley, the lecturer in charge of the module today, ended the class. You liked his class because he was great at explaining everything, easily breaking down big chunks of information into small, digestible notes to see the entire picture. What you really like about him, though, is how he always offers to help out when you have any questions.

You glance back at him who was organising his papers on the podium, staring down from your seat as you take in the view. Well, other than the black mask he wore all the time, he is pretty built for a lecturer; perhaps he worked out a lot given how tight those sleeves clinched onto his arms.

You waited until most of the students left as you took your bags and walked up to him, with one tablet in hand and the notes you'd been making. You spoke to him politely after giving him a smile.

Good evening, Mr. Riley. Can I ask you a few questions about the lectures today?

Ah, y/n. Sure, how can I help you at this time?

You proceed to voice out your concerns as he nods and explains. You can feel him standing close to you by your side as you go on, catching a whiff of his cologne sometimes and blushing slightly when his hand brushes against your finger when he takes your stylus pen. You admit you have imagined him in some other ways.

Can you understand?

He asks you as you glance back at him. Your words catch in your throat as you realise the close proximity; he was just a few inches away from your face, and you swear you would have been able to count the freckles on his pale face.

A-ah, yes, yes... Thank you, sir.

You replied back as calmly as you could before slowly turning away and saving your document. He gives a hum as a reply before he glances around and pats your head, like he always does whenever you answer him back, a small gesture that always sends butterflies in your stomach.

Good girl. You know where to find me if you have any more issues.

Good girl.

You give him a nod as you hurriedly make for the exit. You’d like to think he treats every student this way, giving praise and guiding them when needed. It’s not like you’re the only student he teaches in class; there are always a few girls who like to surround him sometimes.

Girls, who, in your opinion, were much prettier than you. Pretty hair, pretty faces, and pretty voices with their pretty outfits that never seem to repeat every day. Meanwhile, you’re more on the formal mundane side, wearing a hoodie most of the time with a pair of black pants during casual lessons; if not, you often wear a white button-up and a long skirt like today. As long as it's comfortable and it's compliant with the university dress code, which, in your opinion, no one really follows, it's good enough for you because you don’t really fuss in terms of appearance; you just want to do well on your course.

Yet, part of you still indulges in thinking that maybe he did treat you differently than other students. You collected every praise and "good job" handed out by him like a trophy; it also made you push yourself further, chasing after those achievements and scoring well in exams just to get a pat from him on the head or your shoulder, or if you’re lucky, sometimes you’ll get to see him smile without his mask on.

You stop for a moment as you walk past a window, noticing how flushed your cheeks have become from your own thoughts. You shake your head and adjust your hair before a voice catches your attention.

Evening, y/n, just finished your class?

You look ahead to the source of the voice and give a bow as you nod.

Ah, good evening, Professor Price. Yes, I just finished the last class of the day.

He hummed as a reply as he walked closer to you, giving you a smile as you stared at him. He is also another lecturer who is great at what he is doing, though he is slightly more strict and intimidating than Mr. Riley. You wonder if it's because of his much rougher, deeper voice or the muttonchop that made him look older; not that you mind; if anything, he is incredibly dashing in your opinion. With the sway of his hips and his confident voice, sometimes you would get lost in his features in the class, distracting you in a sense.

How’s the assignment coming along? Still having difficulties with it?

He stops before you and leans on the window with his arm crossed. You gulp when you remember that a few days ago you were asking him a bunch of questions in his office, to which he helped you out immensely, but there are still just a few concepts that you’re not very sure of. Sometimes, he’ll ask you a random question related to the project that, if you can't answer straight away, he’ll shake his head and flick your forehead. You whine every time, but he only chuckles and continues teaching, while calling you nicknames that melts your heart a little every time.

If you can’t understand this simple concept, then it’ll be harder to grasp it in the next few chapters, darling. I know… but it still hurts. What a soft baby you are Hey, I'm not!

You know that as annoying as he can be, he only wants the best for his students, so you still try hard every time on his modules, spending more effort just to impress him, to hear him chuckle and pat your back, and to feel the warmth of his hand on yours.

Ah well-

y/n!

You get caught off guard as you look behind, curious as to who called for you and surprised to see Mr Riley jogging towards you and Prof Price. Both lecturers shared a glance in silence before Mr Riley glanced down at you and handed a book to you.

You left this back at your desk.

Oh! I didn’t even notice... thank you.

You take your notebook and smile at him, sliding it into your bag as you hear them speak.

John.

It's good seeing you, Simon.

You can’t help but feel like there is tension in the air as you look at them before clearing your throat as you awkwardly rub your neck.

I- well, I guess I’ll get going.

Not so fast-

Wait-

Both of them reached out to grab your arm as you jolted slightly; their eyes widened as they, too, shared the same expression. Prof Price was the first to break contact as he let go and cleared his throat, with Mr. Riley following as he glanced away.

You were talking about the assignment.

You give an "ah" as you snap your fingers.

Oh right, actually, regarding that, I'm still not certain with the last few points, but I can send you a text on Team instead of taking your time-

No, it’s okay. My office like last time?

Oh, are you sure? I really don't want to impart your schedule, sir.

Im sure, darling.

You stopped protesting as you nodded sheepishly. You watched from the corner of your eyes how Mr Riley was acting rather strangely; his fist curled up into a ball as he glared at Prof Price. You gently grab his sleeves as you tilt your head and stare at him with concern.

Sir?

You felt his breath hitch as he snapped his eyes back to you, his gaze softening as he sighs, pats your hand, and nods. You smiled when you saw his tense shoulders relaxed. Prof Price then starts walking to his office as you do the same, with Mr Riley following you close behind.

I didn’t realise that this assignment was your business as well, Simon.

I may not be the module coordinator, but I’m well versed in the subject too, Professor.

Once again, the tension returned as you nervously grabbed onto your bag strap, clearing your throat as you tried to stand between them, awkwardly bumping their chest as you gestured your hands in the air.

E-erm, I wouldn't mind hearing a second opinion…?

You glanced at Prof Price innocently as he stared back at you with a frown while Mr Riley gave a huff of air and nod.

Ah crap, now I'm pissed off the professor-

Alright, fine, sure, if it means helping you.

Prof Price said with a groan as he opened the door and guided both of you into his office.

You took a seat on the mahogany office table that wass smaller than his main office desk, taking out your tablet and books as you asked Prof Price your questions. He takes a seat next to you as Mr. Riley does the same, effectively sandwiching you in between them.

You tried your hardest to calm down your heartbeat, praying the fast thumping against your chest and the bounce of your jugular vein were not as loud as you think. You really tried to keep it cool, but every single time they leaned closer, speaking directly into your ears, it made your skin twitch with goosebumps, and the way they took turns praising you when you get things right was making your head dizzy. You swallow hard as you listened and jotted down the notes and points both lecturers were sharing, hoping they don’t notice how your fingers are shaking slightly.

But of course they noticed. Prof Price leans in as he whispers into your left ear, feeling his beard brushing against your skin.

Are you alright, darling?

Meanwhile Mr Riley cups your hand as he rubs circles around your knuckles, staring at you as he too, also leans in and watches you with his hazelnut eyes, feeling his chest resting behind your arms.

I-erm…y-yes…

You sure? Your cheeks are pretty red.

Mr. Riley says with a soft tone as he brings his hand and gently strokes a hair strand and tucks it behind your ear, brushing your cheek as you feel your neck burning up. You were about to say something before an arm snaked around your shoulder and pulled you away from him. You gasped when you rested against Prof Price’s shoulder.

I don’t think it's appropriate to touch a student, Simon.

You’re the one to talk.

Mr. Riley bit back with a growl as he grabbed your wrist and pulled your arm, causing you to wince slightly at the sudden force as you closed your eyes.

H-hey erm-

You called out as you stared back at them nervously, gulping as you watched them stare at you with an expression that sent shivers down your spine. It felt dangerous…but also….enticing.

What….what’s going on?

You asked again with a shaky tone as they let go of you and sighed. You could tell there was hesitation in the air as Mr. Riley cleared his throat and spoke softly.

y/n….

He sucks in another breath as he rubs his neck, unsure and nervous. Prof Price rolls his eyes as he shakes his head and tilts your chin, giving you a sly smirk as he brushes his thumb.

We’re just wondering…what your opinion is about us.

You blushed at the question as you held your breath, uncertain if you should be honest and confess right then and right now. You looked away shyly as you heard Mr. Riley chuckled, taking off his mask and placing it on the table as he started kissing your knuckles gently as he whispered softly.

Come on, tell us...you think we don’t know the glances you give us during class?

I…well- erm-

You stuttered as you felt Prof Price’s hands slowly trailing down to your waist, resting them there as you felt his breath fanning against the nape of your neck.

Getting shy of us now, are you?

You let out a shaky exhale as you hid your face with your hands, unable to face them and be caught red-handed, muttering apologies as you tried to inch away from them.

I-Im sorry I know I shouldn't-

Hey hey, look at me sweetheart.

Simon cooed as he took your wrist and rubbed soothing circles on it, easing your nerves as his soft voice calms you down.

We can stop…, I promise I wouldn’t mind.

Likewise here. I wouldn’t want to make my favourite student uncomfortable.

Real sly, she's mine old man-

Both men bickered around you and couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, making them focus on you again as you cleared your throat and replied meekly.

You are not making me uncomfortable, both of you, I mean... Im just…

You start off slowly as you take a deep breath, before blinking a few more times as you let out a sigh.

I just didn’t expect this, I suppose…

You blushed at your own words as you stared at them through your lashes, watching them shift slightly in silence.

But why me...?

You dare to ask as they share a glance, then smile back at you as Prof Price snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you close to his chest, while Mr Riley grabs your legs and rests them on his thigh, leaning in close as they caress your hands and face softly.

We’ll show you why, would you like that darling?

You nod slowly, heart brimming with anticipation as Prof Price taps your cheeks, angling your face towards him as you feel the deep rumble of his chest against your back.

Words baby. We need to be absolutely sure that you want this.

Just as much as we want you.

Mr. Riley now hovers over you, and both men await your answer with hungry eyes.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

a/n: ah yes, Simon with dat juicy aSS- have yall seen his senpai skin? Im so not normal about it, anyways, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :]

➵ Part 2 | ➵ Chocolate

#gomzwrites #academic au #cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod imagines #mw2 x reader #cod fanfic #mw2 fanfic #cod smut #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

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