#endeavour x student reader

[thebestofoneshots]

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | wolfstar x reader

Pairing: R.L. x S.B. x Reader

Word Count: 9.9k

Warnings: smut, threesome, finger fucking, oral (male receiving), handj*b, dry h*mping, thigh ridding, p in v, Remus is a mess, mild Dom!Remus (if you squint really hard), he might also have a praise k!nk, Sirius is a flirt (danger to humanity honestly), homoerotic scenes(?), you and Sirius can’t take your eyes off Rem, Rem can’t take his eyes off you either, consent is sexy!

Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve got an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish.

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?” 

“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks. 

Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?” 

Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now. 

“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.” 

“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered. 

“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies.” 

Remus tried not to blush at the thought of Sirius and you, naked in the centre of a room for hours on end while people stared and drew all the small details of your bodies. The details that he assumed had only been seen by the other, now he regretted not taking the class, but scolded himself out of those stupid thoughts. 

He sighed, “Ask James?” 

“Regulus’ gonna do James,” Sirius responded, “He was obviously more than thrilled to oblige him.”

“We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!” 

Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you. “Okay,” he whispered.

“Wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, a huge smile dancing on your lips, it made you look stunning. 

He nodded, “But you’ll owe me, big one.” 

You leaned in to hug him and then Sirius did the same, both of you sandwiching Moony in between the two of you.

“Anything for Moony,” Sirius added. 

Just a few days later, you were outside of one of the classrooms. It was a smaller cosy one that tended to be used for models, with huge windows but near the top of the building so no one would be able to look inside. You had rented it for the rest of the day since both you and Sirius were determined to finish in one sitting, and neither of you was sure if Remus would subject himself to more than that either. 

“You think he’ll come?” you asked as you looked at your watch for the third time that day. 

“He’ll come, luv. Don’t worry about it.”

You sighed, Remus was seldom late. And it took you some time to convince him, you were scared he wouldn’t want to anymore. 

You were fumbling with the keys to the room, and just as you inserted them inside the keyhole, you heard a fumbling at the end of the corridor.  

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, his bag hanging on the side and a coat hanging on the other side. I got held up by the traffic, “I brought the car since it said it was gonna rain, thought I could give you both a ride back, when we were done.” 

You smiled when you spotted him and flipped the keys as Sirius gave you an “I told you so look”. 

Remus was breathing heavily when he reached the two of you, “and then I couldn’t find the room, this place is a bloody maze.” 

Both you and Sirius chuckled at that. “We arrived late to our first class,” Sirius said. “The teacher told us we’d have to find our own model for being late and we made a deal to model for each other, that’s how we met.” 

“I know,” Remus said. He remembered when Sirius and you became friends, first Sirius didn’t shut up about you, then he introduced you to each other, and he understood why Sirius couldn’t shut up about you. Remus and Sirius went way back, they had been friends since elementary, along with James, Peter, Lily, Marlene and Mary. You had quickly gotten along with all of them, and they had made you a part of their little group.  

Finally, the door clicked open and you pushed on it, allowing both boys to get in before shutting it down and putting both the hand lock and the latch bolt. Remus threw you a look. “We’ve heard stories of people walking in on people painting and ruining their stuff by knocking things out. I doubt you’d want someone walking in on you.” 

Remus nodded and moved to sit on the small coach on the side. Thankfully the room was designed in a way to make models feel at ease. There was a music box where you could play tapes on the side, a sofa for them to feel comfortable, and then there was a table in the middle of the room. Both you and Sirius walked to the closet and he pulled on the easels while you went for the props you were planning to use. A small basket filled with fruits. “You brought the sheet?” 

“On my bag,” he said as he nodded to the side. 

“Kay,” you said as you leaned down to get it. 

“You may start changing Moons,” Sirius said, as the boy moved to help him with the easel. They had one in their apartment, and Remus already knew how to set it up from seeing Sirius do it so many times before. 

He swallowed and made sure to finish setting up the easel before nodding and walking towards the table. Sirius was taking off his leather jacket, and Remus attempted to ignore the way his friend’s muscles bent as he did. Sirius had always been beautiful, but this attraction he felt for his best friend was relatively new, he could barely stand it. 

You were still looking for the props when you turned around and spotted Remus pulling his soft brown jumper over his head. He wore a soft beige cotton shirt underneath it that was just a little tight over his arms. You tried not to bite your lips as you stared. Both Sirius and you had talked about how pretty you both thought Remus was, what a shame it was he wasn’t into either of you, if only you knew. 

Sirius gave you an amused look, his lips curling into a mocking smile and his brows shooting up and down. You pushed him lightly with your shoulder and walked toward the table before your cheeks warmed even further. 

“We’ll do mine first,” Remus explained, at least my sketch, Sirius’ next and then we’ll alternate. 

“You’ll do different poses?” Remus asked as he looked up at you, pulling the other shirt over his shoulders little after. Sirius tried not to laugh at the way you were looking at his friend. He had already seen how ripped Remus was, they were roommates, after all. 

“Yeah,” you responded as you got a hold of yourself. “We are gonna make it seem like we drew different people.” 

Remus nodded in response. He was slightly self-conscious about his scars, he’d gotten them as a kid in an accident. His parents were zoologists and worked with wolves, they had taken a puppy home since he was hurt, and Remus thought it was a dog. He pulled the hurt animal out of the cage to “play with it” but accidentally grabbed him from the part he’d been hurt, the animal retaliated by slashing him, face, torso, back, and legs. Remus had been 4 and had no way to defend himself, he also didn’t want to hurt the puppy so he allowed it to happen. When his parents found him, he was crying in a pool of blood, and the wolf pup had hidden somewhere in their garden. 

There was apprehension in your eyes as you stared at his scars, not because they were ugly, you thought Remus was beautiful, but because you thought of the pain they had once caused him. You cleared your throat. “I got this for you,” you explained as you showed him the basket of fruits, you had bought them all yesterday and left them in the small fridge in the room. “You’ll be holding in both of your arms, it’s like a recreation of an older painting,” you explained. 

Remus nodded, taking in the information as he fumbled with the button of his trousers. Half focused on what you said, half mortified over getting naked in front of you and Sirius. 

You pulled the basket in your hands again, “Kind of like this, okay?” you said as you grabbed the basket in the way he would be grabbing it, giving the fruits one last arrangement and taking a picture for reference in case they moved around. He gave you an understanding nod and you gave him a thumbs up in return. Sirius walked over to take Remus’ clothes from the table, and hastily dropped them over the smaller sofa, bringing over a bottle of wine, a decanter and an empty cup. 

“Our concept is based on gods, she’s going for Bacchus,” he explained, Remus was fumbling around with the trousers at the end of his feet, taking longer than he normally would to take off his clothes, Sirius obviously noticed. “She wants to capture the youth and lust of winemaking.” 

Remus gave him somewhat of a stern look and Sirius smiled cheekily in return. “And yours?” he asked. 

“Eros and Psyche,” Sirius responded with a slight tilt of his head. 

“And Psyche?” 

“Don’t worry your pretty head with it yet,” Sirius added condescendingly and got a shove from Remus in return. 

You were looking at the two of them with a smile, you’d always loved the relationship with the two, there was never a time they were more at ease than when they were with each other. 

Sirius sighed, and you smiled. Remus still felt nervous, taking his socks off and keeping his boxers on as he waited for new instructions. Sirius gave him a look as he sat on the window just behind you, and your easel, looking at how you sharpened your pencils and charcoal for sketching. “Would you help me pose him?” You asked, turning your head slightly to Sirius before focusing again on your pencils and canvas, taking a ruler to break down the piece into smaller squares to make sure you got your proportions right. 

Sirius nodded, jumped down from the window seal and picked up the white sheet he’d brought from his backpack. 

“Time to take them off, mate,” he said. Remus swallowed and nodded, taking off his boxers carefully and throwing them in the same direction Sirius had thrown the rest of his clothes. Then he placed his hand over himself and stared in between you and Sirius nervously. You were still focused on your canvas, so you didn’t quite see the interaction, but Sirius did and smiled. He had the inkling little feeling that maybe Remus was into you. He had told you about it but you had shrugged it off, Remus had become something like your best friend, there was no way. 

But Sirius had known Remus for longer than you did, and he knew his friend like he knew the back of his hand –and boy he knew that one well from seeing it so much while painting. And the nervous glances Remus kept throwing your way, made him feel a little more confident of his theory. Perhaps all the two of you needed was a little push, and then that one recurring dream he had could become a reality.

Sirius extended the sheet over Remus and placed it on his arms, just falling off the shoulders like some kind of shawl, he then accommodated the sheet covering one of his legs and his private parts. Remus seemed reassured by that, and Sirius again, tried not to smile knowingly. He then passed Remus the basket and helped him accommodate it in place.

“It's not too heavy is it?” 

“Not right now,” Remus said as he held it between his hands. Sirius then proceeded to place his hands on Remus’ bare back and traced his fingers over his friend’s muscles in a reassuring and discreet manner, giving a light squeeze near his neck. 

“Relax,” he said as he looked at the boy. Sirius had no idea how little relaxing that devious smile of his was, Remus’ skin burned at his touch. “Lean your head back a little bit, would you?” Remus swallowed and did as told, anything to have Sirius step away before he noticed the things he was actually doing to him. “A little bit more,” Sirius insisted and placed his hand on the boy’s neck. Allowing it to linger as he moved him around as he pleased. 

“Hey Angel,” he called, and you looked up, smiling at the sight of the two boys, “Is this all right?” 

“Come here,” you told Sirius, he finally let go of Rem and walked towards you, standing just behind the easel just at your side. “What do you think? Isn’t he a little too stiff?” 

“Yeah,” Sirius responded. 

“Thought so,” you breathed and left your pencil and charcoal on the easel before walking towards Remus. “Close your eyes, would you?” you asked softly. Remus hesitated before doing what told. “Take a deep breath for me, good, that’s good… Remember that time you told me about your trip to Dover? You told me you climbed to the very top of the castle, that it was freezing cold and that no one but you had been brave enough to climb up to the roof. It was empty but there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. So thin that when you pressed your feet, it melted away allowing you to see the stone. 

“You mentioned you leaned over the edges and got to see the castle, the grounds and then, then you got to see the ocean.” Remus' tense self was slowly starting to subdue. “You said you could hear the distant waves, and then you felt a small prickle in your cheek.” 

“It started snowing,” Remus said softly. 

You smiled, took a grape from his basket and placed it near his mouth, pushing it in between his lips. He opened his mouth when he felt the fruit and ate it with a frown, opening his eyes to look at it, and then at you. You were so bloody close to him. 

“There you go,” you said with a smile. “Much better now, keep that relaxed face of yours so I can paint it, will you?” you added teasingly. Remus was munching on the grape with a confused and yet amused face. You gave him a short wink and then went back to your spot, missing the slight flush that coated his cheek. 

“Comfortable?” Sirius teased. 

Remus threw him a look and you swatted Sirius with your pencil softly. “Stop teasing him, he’ll tense again,” you scolded. Remus couldn’t help but smile at the small interaction between the two and you finished up with the sharpening, picking up the pencil and starting to sketch. Remus let his head fall back as you traced, closing his eyes and changing his stance every once in a while, pulling his head off and watching you knit your brows together as you moved your pencil over the canvas. 

“You’re getting the proportions wrong,” Sirius said. “His hand is bigger than that.” 

You grumbled in return, “I know! I just–“ you pulled an eraser and started to furiously move it over the canvas, Remus was looking at the two of you carefully. “I can’t get it to work out.” 

“Want help?” 

“You can’t keep helping me when I don’t get the hands right…” 

“Why not? You always help me with light and shadow, you’re an expert.” 

You sighed, “It’s not the same Sirius.” 

“Yes it is,” he said in a no-nonsense kind of way, then he placed his hand over yours, and started guiding your sketch. “Come on, loosen up.” 

Meanwhile, Remus was looking at the domestic scene between the two with a mix of admiration and longing. The two of you looked stunning as you painted him, both deeply focused on the canvas, with a casual glance straight at his hand holding the basket, he smiled as he saw Sirius lean even closer to you, obviously unnecessary but something Sirius did often anyway. He had never seen his friend as smitten with a human as he had seen him with you. 

Eventually, Sirius let go of your hand and you added a few other touches. “Do you want to start painting or should I start with my sketch first?” he asked. 

You turned your head and stared at the cloudy sky, “I’ll use the sunlamp for my lighting, we can do yours if you want, that way you take advantage of natural light for your drawing.”

He nodded, “Okay, get ready, I’ll work on the canvas.” 

You sent him a short wink and he walked behind his easel. Remus took the time to put down the basket and accommodate the sheet around him a little better. “Cold?” you asked, “we can turn off the AC.” He shook his head. Just self-conscious then, you realised. Well, he won’t have to worry too much about that.

You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?” 

“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.” 

“You what?” 

“Eros and Psyche, remember?” 

“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.” 

“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!” 

“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.” 

Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked. 

But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.

You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can–“ you started, biting your lip. 

“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.” 

You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way. 

You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“

Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.” 

You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted. 

Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. Naked grandma. NAKED GRANDMA. “Go on with your painting, yeah?” 

“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?” 

Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it. Sirius on the other hand, smirked and walked over to the two of you, “Alright mate, time to lose the sheet,” he said as he pulled the one thing covering Remus’ body. While Rem shot to cover himself, Sirius gave you a look and then winked. 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you tilted your head, what the hell are you up to, pretty boy?

“Okay, Moony. I need you to sit on the table.” Remus did as told, “Now open your legs a little bit.” Remus gave a stern look to Sirius but did as told, still using his hands to cover himself. “Please Rem,” he added, “I’ll show you mine and you’ll show me yours? Take those hands off, would you? We’ve both seen plenty of dicks already.” 

You were looking at Remus’ clavicle as he did, trying to avoid the spot that made him so self-conscious, but Sirius was way bolder than that, and he stared straight at his friend’s cock instead. Was that a twitch? Sirius smiled, bit his lip, and turned back to you. 

“You’ll be in between his legs, he’ll have his arms around your arms and his head on your shoulder, is that okay?” 

“Okay,” you said simply. Now, had it been any other person, perhaps you wouldn’t have accepted the pose, but this was Remus, you trusted Remus. 

Remus, who realised there was no use in arguing, did what Sirius had described, leaning forward so you wouldn’t have to stand so close to him. He tried to avoid his chest brushing into yours, ever the gentleman. Anyone else might have just taken advantage. 

Sirius nodded and walked behind his easel again, “Luv, hide your head on his neck, okay?” 

“Mhm,” you said and did as told. Being so close to Remus was making you feel things. He was really warm and strong. You enjoyed the way he held you, Sirius could tell. He also knew you as the back of his hand. 

“Would you mind leaning in a little closer to him?” 

You nodded and did as told. Now your chest was brushing against his, Remus could feel your hardened nipples against his chest, the tip of his ears was now red, even if a good deal of blood was going south. You assumed it was due to embarrassment. 

Sirius had already started to draw, and you decided you’d try and ease him, you bent your elbows and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, allowing his grip to become a lot more secure, “It's okay,” you whispered. “Sirius is way faster at sketching than me, he’ll be over in a second. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” 

“No, I’m sorry for making this so awkward,” he said softly. “I bet you are used to this and I’m making it weird.” 

“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.” 

“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves. 

“I only agreed to Sirius’ pose when he proposed it because you’d be the male model. I don’t like modelling so close to other people.” 

Remus sighed, closing his eyes, his cock was already half hard, and here you were talking to him about trusting him to be the male model, he was a total dick. 

“Luv, lean in a little closer would you?” Sirius asked. 

Remus didn’t even have enough time to give Sirius a warning glance since you confidently did as told, and that’s when you felt it: hard, brushing just under your belly button. You pulled apart just for a second and looked down.

He is huge.

Remus was beet red and staring at Sirius with a mix of exasperation, embarrassment, and anguish. But neither of you seemed to mind, you just pulled your hips slightly back and went back to the previous pose, your nipples brushing against his chest again and making his boner grow even more. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured, “It’s actually quite normal, you’d be surprised how many times it happens.” 

Remus had his eyes closed shut and was trying not to think, not of your soft chest against him, not of your soft breath fanning against his skin, and certainly not of how close your pussy was to his dick. 

You could tell how much more tense he was now. “Do you want to take a break?” 

“No,” he said quickly. “Let’s just get over with it.” The last thing Remus needed was to take a break only for it to happen again the minute your skin came into contact with his. 

“Are you sure? You’re a lot more tense now, Moons,” you said with a frown as you gently brushed your hand on his soft back, tracing a finger over one of his scars without quite realising you were doing it. 

He shook his head, “No, it’s okay.” 

“Remus–“ Sirius started. 

“It won’t work,” he snapped a little harsher now. 

Sirius’s perspicacious look turned into a smirk, he knew he wasn’t imagining things. He gently placed his pencil on the easel and walked over to Remus. “Why not Moony?” 

“Sorry?” He asked, nervous. You felt him tense even further and pulled back, he got a glimpse of your breasts again and he only became harder. 

“Sirius, you’re making him more nervous,” you added with a frown, your hand still brushing reassuringly on his back. 

“No,” he replied, and focused his gaze back on Remus. “I want to know why it wouldn’t work.” 

Remus grabbed the basket that was still lying around and placed it over his lap, covering his ever-growing boner. 

“You don’t have to respond to that, Rem.” 

“He does,” Sirius insisted. 

Remus looked at Sirius in disbelief before huffing. “You’re making your bloody gorgeous girlfriend, pose with me and hug me, and lay her head on my shoulder, all while naked. And you’re looking at us, with that, piercing fucking gaze of yours while you do. A break is not going to help because you’ll make us do it again!” 

Sirius still had a stern face on, but you noticed the small twist on his lips, he was holding back a smirk. 

“Sirius,” you warned. 

“No,” he said and focused on Remus again. “Remus, you think my girlfriend’s gorgeous?” 

“Everyone thinks your girlfriend’s gorgeous.”

“No, Remus. Do you think she is?” 

Remus avoided Sirius’ gaze, red with embarrassment and anger. More at himself than anyone else. His jaw was clenched and his eyes squeezed shut. 

Sirius threw you an amused look and you gave him an impatient one. You could tell he was playing with Moony and you didn’t like it one bit. Sirius, though, wasn’t one to stop things so easily, and he pulled you softly from your spot in between his legs and took it, placing both hands on Remus’ shoulders who just tensed even further. He leaned closer to his ear, “I’m asking you something, Remus.” 

Remus didn’t reply, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching. You were about to pull Sirius back but he spoke again, “I’m asking because–” he tone was softer, the threatening tone from earlier fading into a more lewd one, “It’s okay of you do,” he whispered, and then pressed his lips to Remus’ tense shoulder. Remus’s eyes snapped open and he spotted you, you gave him a short smile, and then he felt Sirius’s lips pressed against him again, “because we both have the hots for you as well,” Sirius mumbled against his skin.

Remus swallowed thickly at that, and you could feel a familiar pulsing between your legs.

Remus pushed Sirius off, the other boy just stared at his friend with a smile, “don’t play with me, Black!” he warned, angry and steady. 

“He’s not,” you interceeded. Sirius was a flirt, it was hard to believe him sometimes, but for you, who had been with him for a while, it was easy to see the shine in his eyes when he saw Remus, it wasn’t there when he saw other men. You walked over to Sirius and took hold of his arm, laying your head gently on his shoulder and allowing your entire front to be exposed to Remus. “The question is, Remus, do you like us back?” 

Remus’ breath was caught in his throat, he wasn’t sure what to respond, could he even?

“And what does that mean?” 

You shot Sirius a glance, there was a silent understanding between the two of you, a small nod from Sirius, and you walked closer to Remus, “It means we like hanging out with you,” you said softly and took a step towards him, “It means we like having you around, It means we like it when your eyes brighten as you speak of a new book you love and it means we love the way your hair falls on your face when you forget your umbrella and you borrow one of ours.” You were dangerously close to him now, “It means we like it when you stand close to us, it means we would like to touch you,” you placed a hand on his leg, and traced from his knee to the thick of his muscle, and left it there while making soft circles with your thumb. 

“It means when we invited you to model for us we were being selfish, we wanted to have more of you than we normally did,” Sirius said, also walking closer, “It means I specifically had to wear bigger pants because I knew the moment I saw you naked along with her, my mind would roam, and take me back to my dreams.” 

“Your dreams?” Remus asked as he gulped, gaze darting between your hand on his leg and Sirius approaching both of you.

“Our dreams,” you interceeded, having him turn back to look at your face. “The question is, Remus–“ You grabbed onto the basket and started to drag it away from him. “Do you want us? Or is this just a natural reaction?” you asked, nodding back to his hard cock, trying not to lick your lips as you did. 

Sirius still hadn’t touched Remus, but he was standing so close he’d only have to lean in to kiss the boy’s neck. “I–“ Remus hesitated, and looked at Sirius, trying to find confirmation. He could barely believe what was going on, perhaps he had fallen asleep on your shoulder and this was just a figment of his eager imagination. 

Sirius smiled and nodded down. His pants were big, but not big enough to hide the tent that had formed in his pants. Remus swallowed again. By now you had already discarded the basket of fruit, a couple of them rolling out and scattering on the floor with a loud thud. None of the three seemed to hear it, all of your gazes were firmly set on each other. 

“It is real, Remus,” you said and leaned close enough to kiss his neck near the spot Sirius had kissed initially. You had wanted to do that while Sirius was sketching the two of you, and you took the chance to finally do it. Still, neither you nor Sirius had touched Remus’ cock, you wanted him to say yes before you did something irreparable. But unlike Sirius, you didn’t leave your kiss as a small innocent one, instead, you opened your mouth to his skin and started licking and sucking lightly. 

A strangled moan escaped Remus’ lips. and you smiled, continuing to kiss him in the same way, eager to hear the sound again.

“Should we take that as a yes?” Sirius asked, voice raspy and low from how turned on he was at the sight of the two of you. 

Remus let out a soft scoff, and then he pulled you from his neck, he hated the disappointed glance you had as he held your face in between his hands. Your eyes were blown with lust and your lips were wet from the kiss. 

You swallowed, ready to pull apart but Remus dragged your head towards his and leaned in just enough to plant a desperate kiss on your lips. You were surprised at first but quickly melted into him, moaning as he dragged his demanding tongue over your lips, which only fueled him further, he wanted to hear those sounds, he wanted to hear the both of you make those sounds over and over again until he was deafened by them. 

“Yes,” he whispered as he pulled apart, panting for air and dropping smaller kisses around your face, “bloody hell yes!” he insisted. 

Sirius leaned in, and whispered on Moony’s ear, “Should have told us earlier.”  He pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, but quickly moved down to kiss the boys jaw, “We’ve been dreaming about you for months.” 

“Imagine my surprise when Sirius woke me up, panting your name,” you said, “I thought it was a nightmare until I felt how hard he was.” 

Remus sighed and leaned his head on your shoulder as Sirius continued to kiss him, you took that as an opportunity to place your hand on his back again, allowing your fingers to feel and touch every single part of him that you hadn’t been able to touch earlier, and that you found absolutely stunning. 

Another moan escaped Remus’ mouth when he felt your hand on his back, and Sirius smiled, the wicked smile of his and he pulled apart from his neck and easily sat on the table before moving behind Remus in a kneeling position, taking both of his shoulder and pulling him back from the hunch he’d been on. The sight of both boys almost set you on fire, Sirius noticed, he noticed almost everything. 

“Moony, love,” he said as he leaned into the boy’s neck and allowed his hand to softly massage Remus’ back muscles, “Isn’t she stunning?” 

You threw Sirius an inquisitive look and he just winked, he seemed to always know what to do. 

“She is,” Remus breathed, eyes hooded as he allowed Sirius to touch him, clearly lost on him. 

Sirius smiled, “I want you to touch her,” he said with a smirk, “touch her like you wanted to touch her when I was drawing the two of you behind the easel. I saw you looking at her, I saw the way your hands fought to stay in place.” 

“Sirius,” Remus warned. 

But Sirirus’ smirk only grew wider, he knew his words were sending both you and Remus into a state of absolute frenzy, all he’d have to do was push you into each other, “Touch her, I know she wants it as much as you do.” 

Remus was hesitant, but he placed his hand on your shoulder and dragged you closer to the two of them in a soft pull. You looked up at him and smiled, squaring your shoulders and allowing him to see your almost throbbing nipples, desperate to be touched, and to be held by either of the two. 

He was slow and hesitant, allowing his hand to fall from your shoulder to your arms, and then to your waist, and to the small of your back. Sirius placed a soft kiss just over Remus’ ear and then whispered, “Touch her, Remus, touch the place you’ve wanted to touch since you saw that little black bra of hers that makes me lose my mind.”

Remus breathed, he remembered the little piece perfectly, he allowed his hand to drag up, and let his thumb rest right under your breast, feeling the soft bounce of it and gently rubbing underneath, an innocent touch, almost a graze, nothing in comparison to the way Sirius would sometimes grab at them, and yet, it was just making you wetter. “Remus,” you whined as you leaned your head on his free shoulder. That seemed to be the fuel he needed to drag his hand even further up and allow his thumb to brush against your nipple. You clenched against nothing as he did, and moaned. He had a small scar tracing just around his thumb, the feeling of textures against your skin dragging you to heaven.

Sirius smiled at your reactions and started to kiss his neck. Which had Remus’ head tilt back in pleasure. That’s when you leaned your hand down again, eager to feel him, you were gentle and decided to give him enough time to stop you if he wanted, but the slow massaging of your hand towards his cock was only making Remus grow harder, a small droplet of precum already coming from his tip. He hadn’t even dared to dream of such a moment, and here you were, making it happen. When your hand finally wrapped around him he let out a breathy moan, his hand on your breast tightening. You smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. 

“May I?” you asked softly. 

“Please,” he managed to say, Sirius chuckled at his neediness but Remus was quicker and pulled on his hair to drag him to his mouth. The longer-haired boy was surprised at first but quickly smirked into Remus’ demanding kiss, swallowing all the moans that would leave him as you slowly brushed your fingers over his cock. First, tracing a thin line from the bottom to the top, right over the pulsing vein. And then you wrapped your hand around him, firm but gentle, and rubbed the tip with your thumb. 

Sirius pulled from the kiss that Remus chased into just to let you hear his moans and whispered, “Do you hear that, love?” he said as he placed a hand on Remus’ neck to keep his desperate lips from crashing against his mouth again. “You’re turning him into an animal.” 

“We are,” you responded and tightened your grip around him, starting only now to gently stroke. You got to hear another moan from Moony before Sirius returned to kiss him. You leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder again, that place proving to be one of your favourite sports of the night, and started to trace kisses up his neck. You could feel his reactions in the way he would sometimes squeeze your breasts a little harder, or when he moved his hand down your waist. “And he makes such lovely sounds, doesn’t he?” 

Sirius hummed in return, not daring to tear his lips away from the kiss. 

Then you reached Remus’ ear. “If only you knew how wet you’re making me,” you whispered, a sly, fox-like smile appearing on your lips. Sirius threw you a side glance in between kisses and raised one of his eyebrows at you. 

“Show him then,” he said before going back to kiss Remus, but using one of his hands to place it on the boy’s waist. “Pull back a little, Moons.” 

Remus did as told, giving you enough space to be able to climb into the table as well, both legs on either side of one of his, and then slowly you let yourself down onto him, sighting at the feeling of his muscles against your sex. Remus gave you an encouraging squeeze on the waist, and that was enough for you to start grinding yourself onto his leg. Somehow, you managed to maintain the strokes on his cock as you rubbed onto him. 

“Do you feel that, love?” Sirius asked as he broke the kiss to have the two of them look at you. You had your eyes closed and were focused on both your hips and hand movements. You felt Remus’ cock twitch, but you didn’t know it had been because he was looking at you. “Do you feel how wet you’ve made her?” 

Remus looked at his glistening leg as you slid down and then up again, firmly pressing yourself against him, even if it was hard with the position you were in. He flexed his muscles and he felt your hand tremble in his cock, “She’s so pretty, Pads. You get to see her like this all the time?” 

Sirius chuckled and decided to kiss Remus’ neck, so they could both continue delighting at the sight of you riding his leg. Remus seemed hesitant at first, but he dragged his hand down to your waist and towards your leg. Clearly giving in to the temptation to touch.

“Go ahead, she likes it,” Sirius encouraged in a chuckle and Remus didn’t think twice. You stiffened when you felt his hand brush against you as you pushed yourself into him, now opening your eyes to figure out whose hand had been bold enough. You smirked when you realised who it had been. 

“Still curious?” you asked and pushed yourself towards his hand again. 

Remus didn’t speak, instead, he focused on brushing his fingers over your folds which had you sight in content. But Remus was slightly hesitant as if he wasn’t sure how to touch you properly. When Sirius realised the lack of moans, he decided he’d help. He placed a quick kiss on Remus’ temple and then moved behind him again. Allowing one of his hands to rest on Moony’s neck and then using the other to trace his arm until he reached the hesitant hand still brushing against your sensitive spots. 

“Like this,” he said as he took hold of his hand and started making his movements more determined. You moaned at the new, more purposeful touch, and Sirius’ smirk grew. “Slow and determined,” he instructed. Remus himself found your clit after that, and he gently pressed his finger over it, testing. 

“Fuck do that again,” you managed to whisper as you leaned your head on his shoulder again, Sirius placed a soft comforting kiss on your temple, your hands on Remus’ cock becoming dumber as the pleasure consumed you. 

Remus did as told, and you moved your hips towards his fingers almost instinctively. “Such a fast learner,” Sirius praised, and you’d swear you saw Remus inflate slightly at his words. 

“Yeah, Moony!” you sighed, voice mellow, something in between words and a moan. “You’re amazing,” you added as you kissed his neck, chasing all the way to his mouth. The hand that Sirius used to teach him, had long forgotten its purpose and had somehow found its way to your breast, pinching and squeezing like he knew you loved. His lips glued to Moony’s neck in the meantime. 

Moony pressed a tentative finger to your entrance, you smiled into the kiss, and pushed into him, he bit your lips as his finger dug inside you, “Fuck,” he whispered into your mouth, “so tight.” You clenched around him, as you pulled from the kiss and brushed the tip of his cock with your thumb, you were eager to hear another one of those melodic moans of his. And you did, reeling on the power he had given you before going back to kiss him. 

“She is Moony, it’ll feel insane around your cock too, I promise,” Sirius whispered to his ear. If you had been thinking properly, you might have swatted him for assuming how things would end, but the idea of having Remus’ cock inside of you only made you wetter, your hips chasing his finger a little more desperate as you used it to chase your own pleasure. 

Remus used his free hand to take yours from his cock and placed it on his shoulder since he knew that would help you be a little more steady, he missed your touch, but the moans he pulled from you were enough compensation. He went for another finger and you moaned at how much more full you felt. Remus had longer fingers than Sirius did, and the scars added a layer of textures that you had never felt before but that you could easily get used to. 

His touch was much more curious and soft than Sirius’ had been the first time, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t aiding you into a state of absolute bliss. Sirius, ever the clever, figured out you were close in a second. He pulled Moony deeper into the table, pulling you along with him, took off his shirt and moved behind you. Both of his tights around yours, Moony’s in between. He pressed himself onto you allowing you to feel his warm and slightly sweaty skin. You could feel his boner pressing onto your ass which had you sight in pleasure. 

“How’s that, my love,” he said. “Do you like having Moony’s hand all over you? His fingers inside?” 

“Sirius,” you sighed. His hands were now on your hips, helping you ride Moony’s fingers with much more ease. Moony’s fingers got faster, and you could feel Sirius holding back from dry humping you from behind, his hips sometimes chasing against your ass, you had neglected him a little. “Like that,” you managed to whisper once Remus did a particular movement, a flick of his finger, and he instantly repeated it. 

“She’s close Moony,” Sirius warmed as he felt you tense, he moved his hands on your body reassuringly, but in the way that he knew you loved, you tensed, tightening around Remus’ fingers, and then let out a long, and quiet moan. “There you go,” Sirius added softly as he brushed his fingers over your leg, both of them helping you ride down from your high. Eventually, Remus took his fingers from inside you and placed a reassuring hand on your leg. You closed your eyes, head still pressed onto his shoulder as you breathed in, Remus had always smelled delightful, but you’d swear he smelled even better today.

You then reached your hand down but Sirius beat you to it, “My turn,” he said as he pushed you closer to Remus and took a hold of his cock. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked Remus with a smile, knowing well his answer. 

Remus gulped and shook his head, which had Sirius smile like a wolf and start playing around with his friend’s cock. He clearly knew what he was doing much better than you did since he had Remus panting and moaning a lot faster than you had. He also had you firmly pressed against Remus as he touched him, if you had wanted to –which you obviously didn’t– you wouldn’t be likely to get out in between the two. Still, you busied yourself with kissing Remus’ neck again, that spot that you seemed to be addicted to.

Remus sighed, and you started to brush your hands all over his body, moaning and grunting growing louder. Sirius felt his friend’s cock twitch in his hand and he knew he was close, so he stopped. Remus gave him a pleading look but he pulled his hand back completely and the you along with him. You didn’t realise what was going on until you saw Remus’ throbbing cock and confused look. 

“Sirius!” you reprimanded. Remus seemed to be struggling to form proper words. 

“He won’t get to fuck you if he comes into my hand,” Sirius responded then leaned his head into your shoulder and looked at Remus with a knowing pout. “Would you rather come into my hand than feel her tight little pussy around you, Moons?” 

Remus scoffed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting by getting sexually involved with Sirius Black, but he should have fucking expected this kind of behaviour.

Sirius smiled, “How about we help him cool down a little but keep him hard, darling?” 

You leaned your head back onto Sirius, opening your legs a little for Remus to get a better view of your glistening sex. “What do you like, Remus?” You asked in the most innocent tone. As if you were asking about the taste of ice cream he preferred and not the kind of shit that turned him on. 

But frankly, neither you nor Sirius would have to do anything special to turn him on, he already pretty much worshipped you. Remus was still at a loss of words, he stared at both of you, then down between your legs and then up at your faces again. 

“Do you want me to eat her out?” Sirius asked as he tilted his head. 

“Or would you rather see me blow him?” 

“Cowgirl?” 

“Doggie?” 

Remus was sure that if you didn’t stop you, you might just list the entire kamasutra before he made a choice, “anything.” 

You tsked and shook your head, “No, Moons, that’s not the deal,” you replied. “What do you want?” 

Again, he saw you tense and relax between your legs as you asked him, and he didn’t miss the smirk that drew on your lips when he started. “I want” –he hesitated– “touch him.” 

“Your wish is my command,” you said with a smirk and instantly turned to Sirius, making sure to have him spin around enough so that you wouldn’t have Remus just look at your back, although he would have been more than happy staring at the way your ass moved. 

“Did you hear that, Pads?” 

Sirius hummed in response as he helped you accommodate, you were now cradling him. You first went for a kiss, soft, but demanding, as you two kissed, you lowered one of your hands and gripped Sirius over his pants. He moaned into your mouth and you pulled back from the kiss, no matter how addictive his lips were, you wanted Remus to hear his precious moans as well. 

Remus’ hands were itching to go back to his cock when he heard Sirius’ moan. He was too pretty, both of you were, he could still barely believe what was happening, but he sure loved every bit of it. “Help me get this off,” you said as you turned to Remus and pressed your hands onto Sirius’ belt. 

He raised his eyebrows amused and you gave him a short wink. He did as told. Leaning in closer and unbuckling the belt before sliding it off Sirius who was a moaning mess since your hand was still on him. Once Remus managed to move the button off, you were quick to digg your hand in and Sirius raised his hips a little to take it off along with his boxers. 

Remus’ cock twitched when he saw Sirius’ hard and proud. He wanted to touch it as much as he wanted to see you touch it, but he wasn’t sure Sirius would want him to touch it so instead he moved his desperate hand to the boy’s neck. You smiled at that and brushed yourself against him, passing his cock over your folds a few times to coat him with your wetness before gripping at him securely. 

“Sto–p teasing,” Sirius managed to say, and you laughed, placing a soft kiss to his cheek before wrapping your hand around him and starting to stroke. Remus seemed fascinated by the way you moved your hand on Pads, like you knew exactly what he wanted when he moaned or moved his hips slightly to the side. At some point Sirius started to chase your hand with his hips as well but Remus placed his hand on his legs to keep him down. Sirius turned to the boy with a frown and Remus smirked.

“I said I wanted her to touch you, not for you to fuck her hand,” he replied in a low tone. 

You giggled at the stifled moan that left Sirius’ lips when Moony said that, and continued with your strokes, turning your wrist so you had a bit more control and toying with the tip whenever your thumb got close enough to it. 

“Close,” Sirius breathed and you smiled, looking at Moony with a small smirk before pulling back a little from both of them but still stroking. Then you pulled further down and Sirius almost came in your hands at the mere image of what you were about to do. You pressed a kiss to kiss your stomach, and gently lowered down, allowing your nipples to brush over his cock causing him to shudder. 

You licked your lips before going down and pressing a soft and gentle kiss over his tip, you could feel the blood rushing and his cock twitching. You then pressed your tongue to him and Sirius let out a low, almost imperceptible groan. The first, soft splurt of his cum fell on the outside of your mouth before you wrapped your lips around him and sucked the rest of him dry. By the time you were done, Sirius was panting and gripping onto Remus’ leg as he attempted to catch a breath. You raised yourself back up to look at them both. 

You opened your mouth to show you had yet to swallow it all and then turned to Remus, “Want a taste?” 

Sirius was already sore, and yet when Moony nodded and pulled you in for a desperate kiss, he swore he felt himself twitch again. In a matter of seconds, you had climbed onto his lap, leaning into the kiss and only pulling apart to see his reaction, a line of spit still connected the two of you as smirked. 

“Fuck,” Sirius said in a low moan at the sight. 

“How was it?” you asked as you bit your lip. 

Remus tilted his head and dragged your hips to his, “Is not over yet, is it?” 

“I meant the taste,” you replied as you rolled your hips on his cock. 

He licked his lips, and laid his head on your shoulder as he looked at Sirius. “Fucking delicious,” he said.

You pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “Bet,” you added before rolling your hips against his again. “Ready?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Good,” you said, and then lifted yourself, brushing on his cock a couple of times before bringing your hand down to it, brushing his tip on you, making sure to brush your clit, and then slowly, sinking yourself onto him.

You breathed out as you did, getting used to his size, and he waited patiently for you to finish. 

“You all right?” he asked softly. 

You let out a breathy “Yeah.” 

“Tell me when I can start moving.” You squeezed your walls around him. “Fuck–“ 

Sirius laughed from the side and placed a hand on Remus’ arm, “Did I not mention she has a tendency to do that? I almost came the first time she did it to me.” 

You squeezed again and then started to move, slow and steady at first, Remus was a groaning mess again and it only fueled your resolve to continue moving and squeezing, eventually, his hips started thrusting up into yours and your movements seemed to synchronise. 

“Touch her too,” Sirius suggested and Remus did as told, quickly bringing one the hands that rested on your waist to your clit. You started to roll your hips so you could increase the pressure and he helped by moving his finger closer. 

“Is that good?” 

“Fuck yes,” you responded. 

You continued for a while, and you felt Remus get extremely close, if his moaning indicated anything but then he stopped thrusting into you and you slowed your pace with a questioning frown. 

“Can…” he panted. “Can I try something?” 

You nodded in return and Remus smiled, he pulled you up with his hands on your waist –his cock still inside you– and flipped you around, now your back was laying on Sirius’ chest and you could feel his semi-hard on your ass. 

“Moony what are you–“ he started but was shut up by a kiss as he thrusted into you. Both the kiss and your asscheeks brushing onto him had Sirius harden even more as Remus thrust in and out of you. 

“Touch her the way she likes,” he said to Sirius in between kisses and the other boy did exactly that, chasing in between the entanglement of bodies until he found your clit, tentatively, he brushed his hand down to feel where Remus and your body connected and Remus moaned at the feeling of Sirius’ hands on him again. “I said touch her,” he added with a sigh, “I want her to come again.” 

Sirius smiled and pressed a short kiss to Remus’ lips. “Your wish is my command.” 

Seconds later Sirius’ expert fingers were on you, brushing and circling your clit the way that made you brainless, your ass pressed onto his cock and Remus rutting into you quickly made you feel absolute bliss. 

“I’m about to–“ 

“She as well,” Sirius said as he felt the way you moved on top of him. 

Remus reeled at the thought and groaned out as he started to come, he tried to pull out but Sirius was quick to keep him in place. “She’s taking something,” he said simply, and that was enough for Remus to allow your walls to milk him. As he did, Sirius was fast with his hand and you were cumming on Remus’ cock, squeezing him even more as his pace started to slow down. 

Sirius, who was already sore, came for the second time that night a little after, surprising you since you were not expecting to feel the sticky wetness against your ass. 

Remus felt it too, since part of it spluttered all the way to his legs and he looked at Sirius with a mildly impressed stare. 

“You two are fucking hot,” he said, unapologetically. Remus pushed into you a couple more times and then he allowed his weight to fall on both of you. 

“Too heavy?” he managed to ask. 

“No,” you said as you accommodated your head next to Sirius’ and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. He sighed in contentment.  

Eventually, Remus drew himself out of you and then pulled back from his position on top and instead laid with his back against the table. He bit his lip, “I guess you’ll have to find another model.” 

“No way in hell we’re ever gonna look for another model,” you said with a laugh, also rolling from Sirius and letting yourself fall right in between the two of them, “Moony’s just perfect, isn’t he?” 

“Thought you couldn’t paint someone you’d fucked…” he breathed. 

Sirius laughed, “Well, they don’t have to know we’re a thing…” 

Remus felt so many emotions at once, you were a thing, but also Sirius doesn't want people to know.

“…until after we’ve handed in the paintings, and gotten our grades,” he added with a cheeky smile. 

“Besides, the sun is gone,” you added. “We’ll have to come back another day.”

“Didn’t you mention a sunlamp or something?” Remus asked.

“We’ll have to come another day,” you repeated with a smirk. And Remus gave you an impressed look. 

“Do you guys have anything to do?” Sirius asked.

You shook your head and Remus said a quick “No.”

“Why?” you asked.

“I think Prongs is sleeping over at Reggie’s.” 

“Is he now?” Remus questioned. 

“I thought we could have a sleepover of our own.” 

You scoffed a laugh, of sleep, it wouldn’t have much.

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[tomriddleslove]

Repent.

✩ Tom Riddle x F! Reader

Summary: The one where Tom is confronted by the golden girl of Hogwarts, and he confronts a rather ugly truth. Hatred and desire are very similar things, and Tom can’t tell which one he feels. Alternatively: As Hosier once said “The only Heaven i’ll be sent to, is when i’m alone with you.”

A/N: GRRR WOOF WOOF WOOF

Maybe smut in p2 if people want it?

Songs: Talk - Hozier

The elder Riddle boy found it ridiculous to think he’d be standing here, promoting the very school he had subjected to many terrors, schmoozing with the same snobby, stuck-up wizards and witches for hours on end. His mouth ached from being held in a permanent welcoming smile, and the corners of his lips turned upwards in an uncharacteristic manner.

The role of Head Boy came with countless benefits. For one, he was adored and respected by many, something that was absolutely vital to Tom. Similarly, it also helped preserve his image greatly. No one would question Tom if he was roaming the halls late at night, for he was simply upholding his duties. It became an excellent cover for his now frequent trips to the restricted section of the Library.

There were other less beneficial but still preferable upsides. He got his own room, as the Head boy and the Head girl got their own private quarters. He could be excused from meaningless activities such as the mandatory health education days, if he convinced Headmaster Dippet that his time would be better spent elsewhere. Truthfully, there weren't many negatives to being Head Boy.

Having to spend his valuable holiday time dressed in a rather suffocating suit, promoting Hogwarts as one of the best schools to new prospective parents, was not a part of his role that Tom enjoyed. But if this is the small inconvenience he would have to put up with twice in his one year as Head student, then so be it.

There was, of course, you. That was perhaps the worst part of the job. Having to work alongside you. Tom loathed you, more than he did the average person.

You pranced into the school, having only joined in the 6th year. Within a week of your arrival, the teachers could not stop raving about the prodigy that they had the pleasure of teaching. Your hand shot up before Tom’s, and your marks were almost always higher by 1 damned percent. It wasn’t just enough that you had stolen Tom’s spotlight, no, you made sure you were front and centre in every field. Tom excelled in academics, you excelled in everything. From sports to extracurriculars, no one stood a chance if you were there.

But perhaps what infuriated Tom the most, was that you were nice. People adored you, and you naturally managed to captivate everyone with a sort of charisma that had teachers and students alike stumbling over one another for the chance to speak with you. You had it all, with absolutely no flaws.

Tom didn’t have a valid reason to hate you. With the others, he could attribute his hatred to their foolishness, their stupidity, or their overall incompetence. But you? There was nothing. It was irrational to hate you - the golden girl of Hogwarts, and that was what infuriated him more. It betrayed every rule he held himself to; he always had to be logical and meticulous.

Tom seethed inwardly as he watched you effortlessly charm yet another set of parents, your smile radiant and your words smooth as silk. He couldn't deny your talent or your intelligence, but it grated on him nonetheless. You were a constant reminder of everything he wanted to be but couldn't quite attain.

It wasn't just the fact that you outshone him in every aspect; it was the way you did it with such ease, as if it were effortless for you to excel in every endeavour. Meanwhile, Tom had to meticulously plan and scheme for every bit of recognition he received, always calculating his next move to stay ahead.

His eyes rake down your form, taking in the deep red dress that you wore. No doubt the finest silk draped over your body, a sort of blood red that caught under the dim lights of the chandeliers. Drawing the eye and commanding attention wherever you went, the fabric flowed gracefully around your figure, accentuating your curves in all the right places without revealing too much.

You were undeniably stunning, yet another thing to add to a list of your perfections. You handled the disgustingly leering eyes of the elder Wizards, who came to talk to you, with grace.

A damned Gryffindor too, as though your very presence wasn’t offensive enough.

Gods, he hated you. He really did. Your mere presence was enough to set him on edge, a fire burning through his veins that could never seem to be quenched no matter how hard he tried. He runs a hand through his lightly gelled hair, walking over to the far side of the Great Hall. With the rest of the attendees being otherwise engaged in conversation, he grabs a glass of champagne, knuckles white as he grips the delicate glass stem and drains it in one go. He sets the glass back down and sighs before plastering a fake smile on his face, manoeuvring through the crowd.

As Headmaster Dippet ascended the small stage at the front of the great hall, a hush fell over the crowd. He cleared his throat, adjusting his spectacles before addressing the gathered guests.

"Good evening, esteemed colleagues, parents, and students," he began, his voice carrying easily across the room. "I would like to extend a warm welcome to each and every one of you to our annual open evening here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The assembled guests murmured their acknowledgements, and Headmaster Dippet continued, his tone warm and welcoming.

"We are delighted to have the opportunity to showcase the many wonders of our esteemed institution to you all," he said, gesturing expansively to the grand surroundings of the great hall. "From our esteemed faculty to our talented students, Hogwarts prides itself on providing a world-class education in the magical arts."

A ripple of polite applause echoed through the hall, and Headmaster Dippet smiled warmly before continuing.

"I would like to take this opportunity to express my deepest gratitude to all of our dedicated staff and volunteers who have worked tirelessly to make this evening possible," he said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd. "Their commitment and dedication to our beloved school are truly commendable, and we owe them a debt of gratitude for their efforts."

Another round of applause filled the air, and Headmaster Dippet nodded in appreciation before raising his hand for silence once more.

"And now, my dear guests, I invite you to partake in the festivities," he said, his tone lighthearted. "Our talented orchestra awaits to serenade you with their delightful melodies, and I encourage you to take to the dance floor and enjoy the evening's entertainment to the fullest."

With a final smile and a gracious bow, Headmaster Dippet stepped down from the stage, leaving the guests to mingle and enjoy the rest of the evening's festivities.

You look over at Tom and find he’s already looking at you, a shift in his gaze when you lock eyes with him. You see him sigh, and motion to the large area of floor which had been dedicated to dancing. The very face of the school, the two of you step up, and dark green clashes with deep red, the serpent and the lion front and centre. Your hand finds his, cold and unwelcoming, and his other comes down to rest on your waist, fingers brushing against silk.

The melodic hum of the violins echo through the hall, watchful eyes on the two of you. Your steps were hesitant at first. Gradually, as you found your footing, your movements became more fluid, if not entirely harmonious.

“Smile, Riddle. At least make it seem like you’re happy to be here.” You mutter lowly, only for his ears. He clenches his jaw, but ultimately he knows you are, as always, right. A small smile graces his lips, looking down at you as he speaks harshly under his breath.

“I’m not happy to be here.” He snaps, and a smirk tugs at your lips as the two of you continue dancing, harshly whispering to one another.

Tom's eyes bore into yours with a fierce intensity, his jaw clenched in barely restrained anger. Yet, despite the tension that simmered between you, you refused to back down, meeting his gaze with a lazy smirk of your own.

"Is that so, Riddle?" you retorted, your voice barely above a whisper but laced with undeniable challenge. "Because it seems to me like you're doing a splendid job of pretending." You quip sarcastically.

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress with a forceful urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Tom's lips curled into a sneer, his voice dripping with venom as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" he hissed, each word punctuated by a sharp edge of contempt. "But you can't hide your true nature forever, no matter how hard you try. I'm just waiting for the day that perfect facade of yours crumbles.”

Your smirk only widened at his words, a glint of amusement dancing in your eyes as you leaned back slightly, meeting his intense gaze with a challenging one of your own.

"Ah, but dear Tom," you countered, your voice silky smooth despite the tension crackling between you. "I don't need to hide anything. Unlike some people, I don't have dark secrets."

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

You simply chuckled, a sound filled with smug satisfaction as you leaned in to whisper your reply. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean, Riddle," you murmured, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all, it's not like your plans are a well-kept secret."

For a split second, Tom froze, his eyes widening in surprise before a mask of cold indifference settled over his features. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he snapped, his tone icy as he pulled away from you, his grip on your waist loosening slightly.

“Oh of course not. I’m all the more intrigued to see how it will all play out.” You hum, an infuriatingly smug grin on your face as you look up at him, as bold and blunt as you've ever been.

Tom must admit he’s somewhat suprised. You seemed so demure and polite, he had never expected such directness from yourself.

The song comes to a close, everyone applauding as you meet Tom’s stare head-on, refusing to break away. You go to walk away when his hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him with terrifying force as the orchestra begins playing once more, with everyone else joining in.

The sudden tug at your waist caught you off guard, your breath hitching as you found yourself pulled back into Tom. His grip was firm, almost possessive.

"What do you think you're doing, Riddle?" you demanded, your voice tinged with a hint of apprehension as you struggled against his hold.

But Tom's expression remained impassive, his eyes boring into yours with a steely resolve that sent a chill down your spine. "Dancing," he replied curtly, his tone clipped as he held you close, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

He leans in closer, breath fanning against your ear as he speaks.

"You do realize you're playing with fire, don't you?" he murmurs, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.

“I’m not afraid of being burned.” You remark back quickly, meeting his frustrated gaze with a teasing one of your own.

Tom's lips quirked into a sardonic smile at your response, a flash of something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "Perhaps you should be," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with a warning tone.

You let go of Tom as the music comes to a close and he doesn't immediately pull you back. You look at him for a second more before tearing your gaze away and disappearing into the crowd.

Silly, silly girl.

Tom pursues straight after you, murmuring half-assed apologies to the couples he shoves past. The serpent slithers through the crowd, far in over his head, desperate for a glimpse of that red.

As Tom finally catches sight of you weaving through the throngs of people, his frustration mounts, fueled by the relentless desire to confront you. Without a second thought, he pushes past the last couple blocking his path and quickens his pace, determination etched into every line of his face.

"[Name]!" he calls out, his voice cutting through the din of the crowd. But you don't stop, your figure disappearing around a corner just ahead.

Refusing to be thwarted, Tom breaks into a sprint, his heart pounding in his chest as he closes the distance between you. Finally reaching the corner, he turns sharply, only to find you standing just a few feet away, your back pressed against the cold stone wall of the corridor.

A smirk plays at the corners of your lips as you watch him approach. "What's the matter, Riddle?" you taunt, your voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Can't keep up?"

Tom's jaw clenches, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface as he comes to a stop in front of you.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

You tilt your head to the side, a mocking smile playing on your lips. "I don't have to think, Riddle," you reply, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "I know."

A flicker of annoyance flashes across Tom's features, but he quickly masks it with a cold indifference. "You may be clever, but you're also reckless," he retorts, his voice icy as he takes a step closer, crowding your space.

"And you're one to talk," you shoot back, your voice laced with a challenge.

Without warning, Tom closes the distance between you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist with a forceful grip.

Before you can react, he's dragging you down the corridor, his steps purposeful as he leads you to the nearest empty classroom. You stumble along beside him, caught off guard by his sudden aggression.

He shoves open the door, pulling you inside with him as your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, fumbling around for a desk as Tom slams the door shut, He turns to you, breathing heavily as he takes a step forward, forcing you to back up into the desk behind you.

“What do you know.” He utters, voice low as he clenches his jaw.

"I know enough," you reply evenly, meeting his intense gaze with unwavering defiance. "I know that you're not as invincible as you think you are. Though you’re certainly trying to get to that point."

A flicker of anger flashes across Tom's features, his eyes narrowing as he takes another step closer, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. "You know nothing," he retorts sharply, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

You should feel ashamed, you should avert your eyes, but you cannot help but feel thrilled at the sight of Tom so angry, a familiar flutter in your stomach as he looks away, his jaw clenched.

The corner of your lips turn upwards into a provocative grin, tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip.

Tom lets his gaze stray downwards for one second and he knows he’s fucked.

Completely and utterly done for. He’s fallen for the most stupidly infuriating, brainless, primal emotion of them all. Tom Riddle, who is smart, manipulative, and cunning, has lost his cool because of lust.

How utterly pathetic.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling with a mixture of disgust and arousal. He hates you, despises every fibre of your being, and yet, that only seems to fuel the fire burning inside him.

You remain silent, observing him carefully as you are not privy to his innermost thoughts.

For a moment, there's a palpable silence between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. And then, without warning, Tom's hand shoots out, grabbing your chin with a bruising grip as he forces you to meet his gaze.

"You don't know anything," he hisses, his voice low and dangerous.

You don't have the time to even think of a response because Tom’s lips are crashing onto yours, replacing every single thought in your head with him and him only.

It's more angry than it is anything else, mouths clashing against one another in a punishing kiss. His grip on your jaw is bruising, a stray hand coming down to rest against the curve of your thigh and push you up so you're sitting on the desk.

He kisses you with fervour, as though he’s trying to steal the oxygen from your lungs and snuff the life out of those damn eyes.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer as you meet his kiss with fervour, your lips moving against his with a desperate need that borders on reckless abandon.

“Tom,” You murmur, a gasped plea as your nails dig into his bicep. He pays it no mind, lips coming down to press open-mouthed kisses to your throat.

It's maddening, the way you've managed to unravel him with just a glance, a touch, leaving him stripped bare and vulnerable in your presence.

But even as he loses himself in the heat of the moment, a nagging voice in the back of his mind reminds him of the danger you represent. You know things, dangerous things, secrets that could unravel everything he's worked so hard to achieve. And yet, in this moment, none of it matters.

His rationale and will is eroded to nothing, consumed by the need to possess you fully.

Your hand wraps around his tie, tugging him slightly as you lean back, breaking the kiss. You gaze down at him, green tie wrapped tightly around your hand, and Tom wants to groan at the interruption, though he refuses to give you the satisfaction of doing so.

“Lust is a sin, you know?” You hum, lips slightly swollen and red as you keep Tom in place, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Tom didn’t care. He wasn’t religious. He didn’t believe in God. Tom didn't care about the concept of heaven and hell either. If being with you meant risking damnation, he was more than willing to take that chance.

“So is Lying. Greed. Hatred. Jealousy.” You list, tugging at Tom's tie with each word, pulling him lower and lower until he’s the one looking up at you. You lean back on your palms, crossing your legs as you narrow your eyes.

“Quite the sinner, aren’t you?” You hum, your voice laced with amusement.

Tom is done for, looking up at you with his mind filled with nothing but a visceral need for you.

“Perhaps.” He mutters, his voice strained.

He reaches out for you but you tut, placing a heel on his shoulder as you forcefully push him down, forcing him onto his knees in front of you with his tie still grasped firmly in your hand. The action causes your dress to slip slightly where the slit occurs in the side, revealing a glimpse of your skin so close to Tom’s face that he can’t tear his eyes off of it. A devious grin graces your face, tilting your head as you pull your plush lip between your teeth.

“Do you believe I won’t get into heaven?” Tom murmurs, stupidly playing into this game of yours as he looks up at you.

You laugh, low and mocking as you look down at him.

“Oh Tom, at the rate you’re going at I’ll be the closest you ever get to paradise.”

Tom may have been strong, but he was only human, and mankind was prone to crumble in the face of temptation.

“What do you suggest I do then?” He growls, his voice a low rumble filled with frustration and desire. You smirk down at him, relishing in the power you hold over him, knowing that you've managed to unravel the facade of control he presents to the world. With a flick of your wrist, you release his tie from your grasp, allowing it to fall limply against his chest.

Your heel remains as it is, pressing down firmly on his shoulder to ensure he remains in the same position as you speak, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Repent.”

Repentance is not something he's accustomed to, nor is it something he's ever considered. But in this moment, with you holding all the cards, he finds himself willing to entertain the notion, if only to appease the insatiable hunger gnawing at his soul.

@schaebickel @mildlyuninformative @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @lillywildly @multifandom-worlds

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fic

[moondirti]

animalic (4)

← chapter three // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 2.5k summary: things don't go according to plan warnings: enemies to lovers, light bondage, sexual tension, arousal, choking, canon-typical violence, dub-con elements, paralysis, suicidal ideation, self-hatred, angst, miguel o'hara is not nice, no use of y/n notes: y'all. i promise we are getting somewhere. i promise. lmk what you think tho cuz i thrive off comments

“Lyla?”

While you’re – regrettably – unable to make good on your promise to phase through the floor, you catch yourself hoping it splits to swallow you whole instead. It certainly would be a better alternative to the purgatory you currently face. 

“Lyla? Come in, Lyla.” 

Feeble rays of light filter in through the weathered windows, their reach slowly growing as night surrenders to the wakings of dawn. Variegated motes bob lazily, suspended upon the streams of sun, quivering back and forth between a range of countless colours. Paralysed and splayed atop the frigid, hard ground of the empty store-lot, you try counting them all for lack of anything else to do. Pink, green, orange, gold. You wonder what force chooses the order, whether it’s sequenced to fit some plan of high design. 

“¡Ay, coño–”

Slowly, you let yourself scrutinise other things, too. The scent of neglect that permeates the stale air, particularly pungent around the entryway. You trace the yellow-brown mass that runs along the door’s hinge edge, and attribute the vaguely muddy smell to rot. Then, it’s the glint of shattered glass, winking at you from lost corner’s of the room. They look narrow, far too inconvenient to clean out with a standard broom. You revel in the understanding that whoever had been in charge of scouring the wreckage appears to share your habit of quick quitting.

It’s only when your vision begins to water do you divert your attention to the situation at hand. Last you needed to blink, it took half a minute for the command to register, and even longer for the motor neurons in your eyelids to act. By the time you eventually got them closed, you’d already started contemplating whether his venom would be the death of you. 

(Lame end to a lame life.)

It didn’t take a genius to figure out, though. You know that, if he wanted to, he could’ve kept imbuing you with the substance until your body was no longer able to perform the basic mechanisms necessary to sustain life. He could have kept his fangs lodged deep into your neck – encroached upon your stuttering veins, bathing in the ichor that flowed – until he felt you go limp, concentrated with his poison. It would have been a denouement to his problems – right there, easy, sandwiched between him and the wall – but it wasn’t. Because he didn’t. 

Just like he didn’t let you plummet to your death that day at the quarry, or strangle you while you were unconscious back at HQ. 

So, no. It doesn’t take a genius to acknowledge that Miguel O’Hara doesn’t want you dead. As he fiddles with his malfunctioning watch, you endeavour to come up with a divisive list as to why that is. 

One: you’ve charmed him. The notion is almost funny enough to elicit a snort, given that you weren’t cast in an immovable anathema.

Two: he’s a good guy. Somehow, this option seems less viable to you than the first. 

You find your third prospect slinging from the threads of a fraying memory. 

You’d been a student, before – attending college at a reputable institute close to home. It’s easy to forget what it was like most nights: cramped in that two hundred square foot dorm, borderline losing it as you tried to validate your claims on matter-antimatter rockets and their potential contribution to interstellar travel. There were concerns of total annihilation, and sourcing, and an array of other limitations – that which you’d dedicated your academic career to drawing up proposals for. It’s laughable now; the stress and theories blurring together to form a vague picture of your long-lost ambition. 

You have a hard time conjuring what exact future you were so hopeful for, but the lamp by your roommate’s bed remains clear in your mind’s eye. Warm-white, comforting. For as long as you were awake, tapping away at a never-ending thesis, she’d work through the latest volume of her beloved murder mystery anthology. 

It was the night before your start at an internship with Alchemax that the series came to a close. Her aggravated screams still ring fresh behind the clouded pane of time. You had thrown your pillow at her in a belligerent plea.

(You wanna elaborate?

The suspect behind every case was shot!

So? Isn’t that a good thing?

No, dumbass. It means the detectives fucking lost! They’ll never be able to prove how right they were.)

Admittedly, you know very little about Miguel, but you have an idea of what matters most to him. It’s entirely possible, then, that he refuses to kill you for what your death would do to negate his efforts thus far. 

“Oye,” 

Your mental traipse is reeled in when the devil himself snaps at you. Steadily, your pupils roll up to look at him. 

“I need your day pass.” 

You continue to stare. His jaw clenches. 

“Because of your little headbutt outside, my watch is busted. My only hope of fixing it is by using the parts of your day pass.” 

Is he asking? Does he expect you to respond? 

You can’t fool yourself into believing he’s that ignorant. 

But Miguel stays on standby, scanning your lax form. He takes in the webs that wrap around your waist, branching out to your thighs and shoulders, restraining your arms behind your back. When his eyes meet yours again, the reluctant question you see glaze over them pushes the recognition to the forefront of your mind. 

He is asking. 

Or, notifying – making sure you’re aware of what he’s about to do. 

God, you wish you could speak. You’ve never come up with so much to say without promptly blurting it out before. Irritation and amusement rip at one another within you, locked in a brutal dogfight fated to have no real winner. How hypocritical of him to pick and choose when your treatment takes priority over his mission; you’re littered in marks that all point to his prior negligence of such subtle humanity. Four stabs above your wrist, a pounding migraine at your temple. If it weren’t for your paralysed stomach, you’re certain you would have regurgitated your innards as consequence to the concussion he’s given you.  

But, oh. 

How funny would it be if you agreed. To let him discover the harrowing truth for himself. 

Deliberately, you muster an affirming blink.

Miguel's weariness escapes him in a heavy sigh, the weight of it etched upon his expression. Thick brows furrow, evidence to his age creasing between them, before he sinks down with a purposeful grace and carefully flips you over. Despite the resentment that festers in your gut, you can’t help but hiss a mental sigh of relief at the service it does to your elbows, which had begun throbbing in response to the pressure that the hardwood floor exerted.

From that point onward, it becomes a guessing game of sorts; you can’t see him, nor are you able to tilt your head and confirm your assumptions as to what he’s doing. Deprived of your most reliable sense, the others strain to fill the gaps in your knowledge, drawing upon every available cue; the sound of his miniscule grunts, the warmth of his skin – that which penetrates through his gloves. You’re alarmed into attempted action when the characteristic rip of his claws equipping pierces the strained air – your body powerless in addressing the adrenaline it secretes – until the spider-man touches his forefinger to your palm.

“Relax.” He all but commands. “I’m just cutting the webs off.” 

You’ve no reason to trust him, of course, but you can’t exactly pitch a complaint right now. 

(Perhaps it’s in your best interests to ignore how easy he’d been able to read you.)

A few moments of jostling ensue, before he withdraws with a curse. Your arms remain ensnared in the tight restraints, the ache that smarts your skin all too real for the continued predicament to be illusory. An assortment of jokes occur to you. 

Can’t get it up? 

In your peripheral, you catch him weighing his options. The pause is laden with a sticky indecision – this change in placement, you realise, exacerbates the already difficult task of breathing for you. 

While you fixate on that fact, he seems to come to a conclusion. With one swift manoeuvre, he positions himself astride your thighs, straddling the deadened extremities, and reaches forward to push your wrists apart. You’re quick to catch on to his intention, how the arrangement gives him better leverage, yet–

His groyne presses into the swell of your ass, worsening with every bid to sever the webbing. It’s impossible not to notice, especially not when the seam of your jeans start to shift in tandem, smoothing over your clothed core.  It’s not exactly ecstasy, far from it — no rainbow blooms, tingling gold from your toes to your nose – but it’s been ages since you were last roused like this. Enough for it to feel brand new, a wrapped curse in a prim little bow, eager for all that you shouldn’t be. 

And… Christ– 

And then he unfastens the lines around your arms, and runs his hands up your skin. It’s not gentle, nor is it brutish, but you can feel his desperation escalating. His touches grow progressively antagonistic, kneading your palms up to your shoulders, patting down to the shallow pockets of your pants. You’re searched like you hold the key to his success – you suppose that, in some oddly comical way, you do. And it should be upsetting, blasphemous. 

But you’re no sacred thing. You’d laid down that possibility a long time ago. 

No. You’re foul, questionable at your best, and erupt into goosebumps over the ruthless grip of a man who hates your very soul. You’re a deeply detestable spirit, truly, but a detestable spirit who has just managed to get one up on Miguel O’Hara. 

He throws you back around, wrapping his hands around your throat. His snarl is primal, maturated in acrid anger. 

“Where is it?” 

You’re sure that, in some alternate reality, your face is stretched in a shit-eating grin. 

“Where’s the fucking day pass?” 

Your satisfaction is short-lived. 

You’ve never been one to notably detest humiliation. It’s productive – healthy, even – in smaller doses; a fitting consequence for those who you deem deserve it. Yet, as you find yourself unceremoniously hoisted over Miguel’s shoulder, forced into a meandering parade through the streets of New York, you breach into uncharted territory – a threshold where your tolerance encounters its breaking point. 

He makes no effort to soften his strides, unmoved by the idea of providing even a shred of respite for your susceptible self. If anything, it feels as though he deliberately seeks out the harshest terrain, silently chastising your earlier defiance in the most passive aggressive manner known to man. He’d reinforced your constraints before marching out on this fruitless venture, and now you bobble uselessly, backside pointed upward, anchored solely by the meaty arm around your knees. 

At least you’ve regained control of your mouth. 

“D’stroyed it. Gone. Dearly d’parted–” 

“If you’re going to run that little mouth, then make it helpful.” 

“M’bein’ helpfoo,” you start, straining your weakened vocal cords in an effort to mock him. The grip of paralysis may have slackened its hold, but neurotransmission remains at an all time, sluggish low. In all actuality, it astounds you that he can even begin to decipher your words from the tangled murmurs they become. 

“You had it on at the convenience, and a little bit afterward. You can’t expect me to believe that you dealt with it while running for your life.”

Running for your life. Sure. 

Displeasure sparks at the confidence he imbues in his assumption.

“Escoos m– hnngh–” A sudden jump of stress robs you of breath, your stomach plummeting alongside the rapidly distancing ground. As Miguel propels himself above the city skyline, effortlessly evading the crowded streets via a web he’d grappled to an adjacent building, you’re confronted with a stark reality – that this is the very first time you have ever, and likely will ever, experience what it’s like to swing. 

It’s exhilarating and nauseating all at once, gravity relinquishing its command as you transcend the confines of the physical, soaring through some reality where law loses significance. If it had been you, your arms and skill and jurisdiction, you’d never come down. But maybe that’s why it isn’t; maybe your life was meant to lead up to this, and only ever this. 

(Not antimatter technologies or heroic conquest. Yeah, this feels more fitting.) 

Your skin prickles. You phase through the sturdy frame that’s held you up so far, and plummet from its grasp.

Slicing through the boundless sky, you’re accompanied by a profound tranquillity. It isn’t absolute – fear still gnaws at your core, its presence undeniable. But, amidst the churning horror, your instincts are fainter than they ought to be. They whisper in a subdued tone, overshadowed by conflicting conceptions. One, being the inference you’d drawn earlier about how – whether you like it or not – Miguel would not let you die. 

Another, quieter suspicion hints toward the full reality of your… relief.

Though, of course, you’re right about the former. Tree-trunk biceps wrap around your waist, pulling you close as he slingshots off to a nearby rooftop. You flop into him, a ragdoll to the overwhelming force of his agitation, and squeeze your eyes shut at the hints of patchouli permeating from under his mask. 

You don’t have to face the gospel just yet.

“¿Qué mierda? Eh?” He shouts, propping you up against a ledge. “What the fuck was that?” 

You don’t have an answer for him. Your heart lurches, catching up to the urgency at hand, striking on the hollow bars of your ribcage to some reckless tune. It’s only amplified by the torrent of blood distending through your system, throbbing at your temple, rushing by your ears. 

What the fuck, indeed. 

He damns you, it seems, with a fervour that breaches the heavens, as if willing God Himself to commit his plea to eternal memory. Or not; truthfully, you can’t tell. With the roar of your own snowballing thrill, it becomes impossible to discern the sequence of interrogations that explode from him. The world around you fades to the background, your preoccupancy consumed by the disquietude it leaves in its wake. 

Your sense is only validated a minute later when, two blocks away, an ear-piercing shriek ruptures your dissociation. 

Miguel stiffens, slowly turning to face its source.

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘕𝘖-𝘏𝘜𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘐𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘓𝘠-𝘔𝘜𝘓𝘛𝘐𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘛𝘈𝘉𝘈𝘚𝘌:

Earth-15 – analysed, marked as closed. 

Spider-totem – The Spider: soon after being bit by his radioactive spider, convicted felon Peter Parker merged with Earth-15’s variation of the carnage Symbiote.

Notes – do not engage, at any cost. 

chapter five →

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#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #animalic #spiderverse #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #spider man 2099 #oscar isaac #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #x f!reader #x y/n #x you #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #enemies to lovers #angst #spiderman: atsv #atsv #spiderman 2099 x y/n

[trulyhblue]

Way To My Heart

Jessie Fleming x Reader

warnings: period/menstrual pains, nausea, period guilt?? (idk how u would put it), fluff, hurt/comfort, coarse language.

thank you for the inspo!!! @jessiebronze2 <3

A/N — not all periods are the same!! Also, bit of a short one today

_________________________

You couldn't remember the last time you had comfortably moved without feeling the notion of your stomach twisting in the most ridiculing pain.

You always struggled with your period. It was something you had never seemed to get used to as the years went on. No amount of medication could soothe the pain that you felt. Nothing could cure the cramps, the migraines, and everything in between.

It was days of endless, excruciating torture that nothing could eradicate.

Except for your girlfriend.

You and Jessie met at UCLA, where you were studying for your degree, while she multitasked the confronting challenge of being a student-athlete. Everyone could see the talent the Canadian possessed from a mile away, and you were lucky enough to witness her growth throughout the years that she had prospered. While you weren't a football fan growing up, the fondness you felt for the girl must've coerced you to find some enjoyment in the game — though you must admit, the most rewarding part of watching the sport was actually watching your ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Jessie had felt reluctant to leave for training that morning. The early morning chill made a perfect excuse for your girlfriend to cuddle up to your side. There were many instances when Jessie would find herself begrudgingly peeling away from your sleepy figure with a scowl on her face. Training was hard work, full of sweat and grind. She loved it, of course, but she often had trouble shaking the image of you in bed, snuggled into a mound of blankets and pillows instead of her.

The Canadian was the same this morning, except she noticed a subtle change in the furrow of your eyebrows. The crease was pained. It was deep with exhaustion, and your body was curled up into a ball, feigning your figure into the smallest confinement it could muster. Beads of sweat peaked at your hairline, your skin a few hues paler than normal.

Jessie wisped the hairs that had fallen in your sleep away from your face, opening the windows in hopes that fresh air would calm your heated cheeks. At first, she thought you had a fever, or maybe even a cold. Both of you adapted to the London whether easy enough, save for the few times when a virus would spread through the city — that was where neither of you could fight it off. As hesitated by her closest, contemplating whether to call in and say she was unable to attend.

She watched as you tossed and turned, pulling on her training gear in an endeavour to fix her conscience off of you. She knew that if you found out she cancelled training for you, it’d only make your mood worse. You were as stubborn as each other. It was when you stirred from your sleep, feeling the drop of your stomach hurl your eyes open, that Jessie climbed over the duvet to you.

“Are you okay?” She asked, combing your hair softly. You clutched your stomach upon instinct, pulling taunt on the sheets beneath you.

“I'm on it.”

It took her less than a second to comprehend what you meant. Her eyes widened, unbeknownst to you, and shielded the bright light that streamed through the curtains away from you.

“Oh, baby,” she muttered, running her hand down your arm. “What can I do?” She shuffled to your side, maneuvering your body onto her chest, sighing at the way your body complied with her movements like putty.

“Just this is okay,” you replied solemnly, closing your eyes. Jessie made sure to keep her breathing balanced, using as much concentration as possible to keep her body still. The two of you stayed like that for a while, until you moved your head up with a wince, noticing the Chelsea logo adorned on your girlfriend's shorts.

“You need to go, Jess.”

The look on Jessie’s face told you all you needed to know. She must've forgotten all about training, bound by the comfort of your body pressing into her own, and pursed her lips together to show her contention to the statement.

You huffed, lifting your body to move back to your side of the bed. “C’mon Jessie Baby, you’ll be la—”

Your balance was shaky, your arms lacking the strength to hold you up for long. Jessie pulled you back into her chest, wrapping her arms over you, her hands resting on your arse and thighs.

“You're sick,” she stated, swaying you back and forth. The movement was comforting enough for the aches in your body. “I can stay, y’know. They let us stay.”

“Don't lie, Fleming, I swear to God.” You retorted, using all your strength to push yourself back against the sheets. The woman looked at you with the utmost concern. Her eyes were beady and broad, empathy scattered across the constellation of freckles dotted across her cheeks.

“You are going to training, Jess.”

Jess took her time in replying, hoping the silence would make you rethink your decision. She would love nothing more than to shower you with praise and affection. She’d make you breakfast without you getting out of bed, then run you a bath so that your muscles would ease from the heat.

She’d bring you whatever you wanted whether that was chocolate, ice cream, cuddles, kisses — anything. In times like this, she was completely at your will. But on the other hand, she knew you had made up your mind. Jessie loved football, you thought. You weren't going to make her stay home for you, especially when you were experienced with this sort of pain prior to now.

So that's how you were left to yourself for most of the day.

Jessie left reluctantly after ten minutes getting the rest of her things. She made sure to bring you in some food and multiple heat packs before she ran out the door, already inevitably late. You stayed in bed for the most part, finding yourself huddled into a ball with your phone in front of you. After a while, a recurring, dull discomfort flared in your head, and you weren't able to scroll aimlessly on social media due to the light sending hurt across your face.

Jessie sent you hourly questions, asking if you were okay or if you were feeling any better. She was talking to Niamh about her worry for you when Emma sent the Canadian around the field for being late. Niamh told her the best thing for you was Jessie herself, which unfortunately sent a new wave of guilt through the woman as she moved through drills.

By a little after noon, you were feeling hungry, but your body was not equipped to get itself out of bed in search of anything to soothe your hunger. Instead, you drank the rest of the water next to your bed, the thought of Jessie being home soon sending you into a comforting sleep.

It didn't last long though. You sent upwards, a wave of nausea overtaking your senses. You had only just made it to the toilet in time, sitting in the bathroom, by the toilet, in silence.

You were dazed, fatigued, and hungry — not a good mix for a woman. You wanted to be productive — the apartment was in ruins, and there was so much you could be doing instead of lazing about on the floor of your bathroom feeling sorry for yourself. You hated that Jessie would come home from a rough day at training to a messy house and the burden of taking care of you.

The thought almost made you laugh — you would've if your body would've allowed it — Jessie would be appalled if she heard those words come out of your mouth. The woman was endlessly caring, sympathetic and kind. She always made sure you were okay, even if she was having issues of her own. Your relationship was a saving grace for both of you. Together, you built each other up in all different ways. You moulded as a couple but also as friends. You laughed, played and talked like you had known each other forever, even if you had only met her in college. You complimented each other in ways no one else could. If she had heard you call yourself a burden, you’d be in for it.

Jessie loved you in ways you couldn't comprehend. Turns out, you felt the same for her.

You were too stuck in your own thoughts to hear the front door open, or the way your girlfriend announced her arrival. You stirred by the toilet, only looking up when the bathroom door swung open, revealing your girlfriend in all her glory, holding a handful of flowers and chocolate.

“Oh, baby,” Immediately, she placed all the things down, kneeling by your side to scoop you up into a hug. “You’re okay. I'm so sorry you're feeling like this.”

You weren't crying, but the overwhelming sensation of Jessie with you was overstimulating. You weren't usually this sentimental, but the way Jessie picked you up, placing you gently on the bed with a wet cloth over your head. She slipped off your shirt and replaced it with a new one of her own. You listened to her with your eyes shut, hearing she hurried shuffle across the room.

When she met you with cuddles, you knew she had changed from the sweatpants and jumper she had replaced her training kit for. You engulfed her scent, letting it soothe the dryness in your throat.

The two of you were slowly breathing in each other’e ambience when Jessie finally spoke, her whisper sending shivers down you ear.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” Her breath fanned over your neck. “You're my favourite person in the whole world.”

_____________________________

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #chelsea #chelsea women #woso x reader #sam kerr #millie bright #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fluff #canwnt #world cup #matildas x reader #jflem #ucla #womens super league #national teams #guro reiten #erin cuthbert

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - Library Liaison

author note: Winner of the first 1000 follower event poll was Riddle! every time I write Riddle, I forget how much I enjoy writing him (≧◡≦) he’s such an interesting, complex character. I hope I do him justice, I think he deserves it. Next up is Leona, who won the second poll and the Octavinelle poll is currently running, so go check it out if you haven’t seen it already! Enjoy~

characters: Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader

You sat, staring into space in the Ramshackle dorm lounge. The ruined interior really helped you zone out, your mind still reeling after the odd situation that you found yourself in.

Despite your best endeavours, your life in Twisted Wonderland had so far proceeded exactly as it had for the main character. The chandelier still ended up breaking, you still ended up going to the dwarf mine and getting attacked by the overblot monster and, in the end, you ended up becoming a joint student with Grim. You had developed a rocky friendship with both Ace and Deuce, despite how you tried to distance yourself from them. It wasn’t anything personal, you just sort of hoped that the events in the game wouldn’t occur if you kept yourself low profile and didn’t get close to any of the game’s named characters.

Unfortunately, so far that plan hadn’t worked out.

Ace still ended up coming to your dorm, collar and all, complaining about his housewarden. You had attempted to slow the inevitable ride to disaster, even suggesting that Ace and Deuce transfer and become students of Ramshackle dorm in an attempt to cool the tensions. But your suggestions fell on deaf ears, and Ace and Deuce ended up challenging Riddle to the housewarden duel that ended up resulting in his overblot. Safe to say, your attempts at laying low and floating undetected through the student body weren’t going well so far.

And to top it all off, Crowley had been avoiding you, as you had been using any opportunity to ambush him and ask him if he had made any progress on finding a way home for you. If Crowley’s monumental negligence in the game was anything to go by, he likely wasn’t even looking into it, so the least you could do was make his life as miserable as possible. When you weren’t accosting Crowley, you spent every spare moment you had in the library.

Every day, you’d comb the library for any material that even had a hint of information about your situation. You were always surrounded by books, piled high around you as you poured over the often-dry material. You’d entirely absconded from any of your schoolwork, leaving that particular gambit to Grim. Whilst diligence wasn’t Grim’s strong point, there was nothing bribery with a can of premium tuna couldn’t solve. So from after classes to when you could barely keep your eyes open any longer, you were huddled in a discreet spot in the library, an agreement with one of the library ghosts meaning that this table was basically reserved for you.

It was just another day for you at the library, surrounded by dusty tomes that obviously hadn’t been touched in who knows how long. You were currently absorbed in a publication about summoning magic, so absorbed in fact that you didn’t notice the figure who had approached your table until they cleared their throat.

“Hello prefect. I see you are in the library again today.”

You froze in your seat, reluctantly looking up to see Riddle standing at the opposite side of your desk. With a purse of your lips, you nodded once before lowering your eyes back down to your book. “Yup.” You responded flatly, turning to the next page, not seeing Riddle fidget awkwardly in front of you.

“You are very studious, prefect. I’ve seen you in the library every day for the past two weeks, Ace and Deuce could stand to learn a thing from you,” Riddle remarked, reaching out and settling a hand on the chair opposite yours, readying to pull it out, “may I?”

“Um… I’d rather you didn’t, actually.” You responded, looking up from your textbook again with a neutral expression. Riddle’s hand froze on the chair and for a moment he looked like a deer caught in lamplights, before his grip tightened on the back of the chair.

“I… See…” Riddle mumbled, and an awkward silence settled between you. You gave a small, cold smile, hoping that Riddle would get the hint and leave, and he did turn, but hesitated and turned back to you, a conflicted frown on his face. “Have I… Offended you in some way, prefect?” Riddle broached and internally you sighed, wishing the pile of books surrounding you would tumble down and hide you from this awkward situation.

“Well… When you throw a tree at someone, its hard not to take it personally.” You quipped coolly, turning your eyes back down to your book and trying to find the line you were on, hoping that Riddle would finally leave you alone. But as ever since you had gotten into this world, luck was not on your side.

Riddle looked absolutely mortified by your comment, and to your chagrin, he pulled out the chair opposite you and sat down, leaning forward in an attempt to keep your conversation as private as possible. “I-I’m sorry if I’ve given you a negative impression… I’m aware that my behaviour was unacceptable and—”

“Look, Riddle,” you sighed, grabbing a spare bookmark so that you didn’t lose your place, considering Riddle seemed to have no intention of leaving you in peace anytime soon, “it’s nothing personal. Really, it isn’t. I just…” You sighed again, putting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples for a moment, “its hard for me adjusting to life here, so I prefer to spend my time alone. I hope you understand.” Once again, silence fell between you and you found yourself shifting impatiently in your chair. You didn’t hate Riddle, not at all. How could you? Riddle had very compelling reasons to be the way he was, and you knew that after his overblot incident, he did make deliberate steps to change and accept his flaws. But… You had your own world to get back to and if being cold and unwelcoming was what it took for you to get back there, then so be it.

“I- I’m sorry, Y/N. I had no idea that you were feeling that way… I should have realised that given your situation…” Riddle trailed off, and the two of you once again lapsed into silence. You shifted in your chair uncomfortably again, exhaling heavily before you began to speak again, “Riddle, its fine—”

“You’re welcome in Heartslabyul, anytime. I would offer you a dorm room but we are at full capacity and I don’t expect that to change anytime soon.” Riddle stated, with the same air of finality that he spoke most things with, and you ended up blinking at him in surprise. “O-oh, that’s really not necessary—”

“I… I may not be the best person to preach about family but…” Riddle’s cheeks dusted slightly red as he continued, “I would like it if you were able to seek some solace within Heartlabyul, to help you feel more comfortable and adjust to your circumstances.” You stared at Riddle, your expression blank and hiding the turmoil of emotions that you felt inside. You were really trying your best to put on a cold front and keep distant, but Riddle just had to be so… Endearing.

“That’s… That’s really kind, Riddle. Thank you…” You mumbled, before you sighed and collapsed onto the book you were reading. “But I don’t want to adjust, I want to go home…” You complained, your voice muffled by the pages of the book. Despite finally complaining aloud about the issue that had been on your mind since you got here, it felt oddly cathartic to vent. Until you felt a tap on your head.

“Don’t lay on the book like that, Y/N, you’ll crumple the pages.” Riddle scolded, and just like that he was back to being the Heartslabyul housewarden that you knew. He tapped your head again until you leaned up, shooting him an unimpressed look as he pulled the book towards him, smoothing the pages and checking for any damage before looking over the book itself. “I thought the headmage was looking into your situation?” Riddle queried, flipping through the pages of your book with a judging eye. You resisted the urge to glower at the mention of the headmage.

“Does it seem like he’s looking into my situation?” Riddle’s eyes looked towards you briefly at your tone, but he nodded shortly once, “no comment.” Suddenly, he slammed the book in his hands shut, and you opened your mouth to complain at him for losing your page before he pushed his chair back and stood up. “There are better books on summoning magic than this one in this library, wait here a moment.” Without waiting for you to respond, Riddle was gone.

Over the next hour, Riddle had systematically gone through all the books in your ‘to read’ pile, replacing several books with other ones that he personally ferreted out himself, claiming that they would be much more appropriate for your needs than the one you currently had. You could only stare on in amazement, having no idea that he had such a breadth of knowledge about the books contained in the library. Sure, you were aware that at a young age when you were still reading picture books, he was reading hefty tomes, but watching him so easily sort through your mish mash research pile really did hammer home a respect for his character that you’d never appreciated when you’d played the game.

“Y/N are you listening? I said I’ve made you a list of the order I recommend you read in. I know you are eager to find some information that could lead you home, but if you walk before you can run, you might miss a vital clue.” Riddle lectured as he passed you a crisp white piece of paper, with his elegant script looped throughout it, “I’ve colour coded the list by subject, so you shouldn’t get anything mixed up—”

“Thank you, Riddle. Really. I truly appreciate this.” For the first time since you ended up in Twisted Wonderland, you found yourself genuinely smiling. Riddle blinked in surprise, before a red hue burst forth onto his cheeks, and he rose his hand in an attempt to hide it. “W-well, its nothing. I consider you an honorary member of Heartslabyul now, and I-i’d do this for any of the students under my leadership.” Riddle stuttered, before clearing his throat and trying to get a hold of himself, “but of course, don’t expect this to happen often. I have my own study schedule to adhere to, and its important that you develop these research skills for yourself. For your future assignments, of course.” Riddle said sternly, his usual strict demeanour starting to fall back into place. “But… If you have any questions, or need to use someone as a sounding board then… I’d be happy to lend my services.” Riddle mumbled softly, almost quiet enough for you not to catch, “b-but only if my schedule allows for it, o-of course!” He quickly added, a fresh wave of blush tinting his cheeks.

You found yourself charmed by Riddle’s generosity, your mood feeling genuinely lifted for the first time since you’d thrown yourself out of the coffin. It was odd, the warm feeling in your heart as you watched Riddle fluster, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Thank you, Riddle. I think I might take you up on that, sometime.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts x y/n

[dpr-stay]

Shadow | FA14

Fernando Alonso x Wolff!Reader

Written and SMAU

Warnings: General Crack, Reader was pregnant at one point, reader is female, egregious ignoring of real world events.

WC: ~2.9k (she small)

Reader is just that girl in this one, sorry. Also how easy is it to tell i’m not 40 years old. Anyways, not edited and just written because i had the idea. When will i actually write romance and not just scenarios?

Being the sister of anyone related to any sport meant your face would be known within the community, whether you wanted it to or not. The number of people increased exponentially when the person you were related to was someone incredibly important within that community.

For example, your brother was Toto Wolff, a billionaire who was the Team Principal of a fairly well known F1 team. You might not have heard of them, Mercedes might ring a bell? This meant you were unwittingly paired with F1 wherever you went.

Whether it be a function for one of the many hospitals or health care clinics you’d set up or even one of the many charity gala’s you’d played a part in funding, you’d always be asked a question or two about formula one and whatever DRS is. 

Honestly, you didn’t mind it at first, always laughing it off with grace and even playing into some rivalries at times, but as you got older and you achieved more things past having a rich brother, it began to get annoying. I mean, you weren’t even that far off his net worth, only around a billion, surely that was more interesting than what your favourite spice girls song was? (You answered ‘Spice up your life’)

So, sure, the fact that even the questions reporters shouted at you as you walked from your car to your front door was about your brothers doing’s instead of your own did piss you off a little. You were only human after all, and having your achievements ignored in favour of your brother’s continually grated at you. 

However, you were loyal and never let that get the best of you. Even after performing a heart transplant, you could entertain some 24 year old journalism student about what you thought your brother's funniest moment was in order to maintain his brand.

That was a situation similar to the one you found yourself in right now. You’d walked out of the office at around 9 at night, the toll of the amount of paperwork that came with managing four medical practices and countless other endeavours taking it’s time to break you down. 

You were on your phone, your do-not-disturb on as you scrolled through your contacts. The time-distance didn’t bother you, it was probably morning for whoever you were trying to call anyway.

The fact you hadn’t really been looking around, instead focused on the phone ringing in your hand, as you sludged from the elevator to your car that was parked the furthest possible distance from the elevator (surely as the CEO you could have a private park) didn’t work in your favour as a group of reporters jump-scared you by calling your name.

You jolted, whipping around and holding your keys in between your fingers, prepared to stab someone. But, at seeing the shocked and surprised faces of the journalists and the shine of the camera lenses they were pointing at you, you withdrew your hand, executing a perfectly practiced relieved sigh. 

“Sorry, you scared me there.” You said laughing, gesturing in front of you with your phone, quickly hanging it up as the call was answered, a dumb ‘Hello?’ not having the chance to echo through the garage. The reporters thankfully brushed it off and started a spiel about ‘results’ and ‘engines’ and blah blah blah. 

You tuned it out, hopefully maintaining a politefully interested face through the ordeal. It was nice that they hadn’t commented on the eye-bags you were harbouring or the smell of cat vomit that was emanating from your clothes after a poorly timed spew from your cat over your laundry this morning.

The curling lip and tightening nostrils of one of the camera men had you trying to resist smiling as the man holding the microphone kept going, though you quietly reprimanded yourself about not spraying more perfume as you left your office.

“Regardless of results, do you still think of Mercedes as your favourite F1 team?” The reporter finally asked, you snapping back from staring at the exposed wiring that lined the roof of the garage. A smile was plastered across your face as you responded.

“Of course! I’m big on family loyalty so yeah, Mercedes will always be my favourite team.” You said, pursing your lips and shrugging. The reporters exchanged glances and you minutely tilted your head at their reaction, curious. Were they not expecting that? The interviewer glanced at his colleagues before he turned to you again, microphone perched and ready to be used.

“Have you seen any news recently?” He asked as impartially as possible. You raised an eyebrow. Now, what did that mean? Had Toto said something mean about you? Did Mercedes collapse overnight? 

You doubted either of those were the reasons, you’d have definitely heard of it. A quick glance at your apple watch revealed the opposite however, the over 1000+ missed notifications you had displayed as you fidgeted with the scroll wheel. Due to the display screen being small, you couldn’t see much but you saw a lot of driver’s names, ‘AHHHHH’s, and questions about Toto’s mental health. What on earth had happened while your cat had been retching on your business wear?

You decided to play it safe, teasing the reporters while not revealing if you had seen the news or not. A raised eyebrow and a hand bringing itself to your hip hopefully clued them in to your goading intentions as you answered.

“Is this news the reason you are trespassing on private property?” The whole crew somehow blanched as they took in the fact you were right. The garage was locked unless they had a security card but, as the creator of the company, you knew of the small chain link fence on the ground floor which could be pulled back and crawled under.

You patiently awaited their responses, glancing between all of their faces as they collectively tried to come up with a reply. The hive-mind didn’t succeed though, you eventually calling it after a few awkward seconds, sighing before giving them what they wanted.

“What’s the news?” You asked, almost begrudgingly watching as the interviewer’s eyes lit up. You recognised that look, the look of an intern realising they could finally be paid for their work, as you’d lived it many times.

“You are Fernando Alonso’s celebrity crush!” The reporter said, the collective watching you with baited breaths as you processed their words. Now, as an almost fourty year old woman with a successful business and job, you weren’t quite sure what reaction they wanted.  Say, twenty years ago, you probably would’ve been able to put on a performance, fanning yourself as a dopey smile filled your face. 

But you had more pressing things to worry about, such as if you’d get home before your daughter had to be put to bed. You were already pushing it, staying at the office so late, and you knew the disapproving glance the baby-sitter you’d hired would have once you got home would make you feel worse.

So you reacted the only way you could think of at that moment.

“Oh, yeah that. I already knew that.” You said dismissively, waving a hand as if to swat a fly from your face. The look on the group’s faces was pretty similar all around, confusion.

“So, you have seen the news?” The reporter asked hesitantly, slightly dropping their microphone and you shook your head, an deliberately incredulous look crossing your face.

“No…? Is that really the news that made you break into my company’s garage?” You asked, disbelief leaking into your voice as you looked all of them in the eye. The corners of your mouth raised slightly.

“So wait, you knew you were Fernando Alonso’s celebrity crush without seeing the interview?” The interviewer drew your attention back and you nodded along with their words.

“Yeah.” You said simply and then thought before adding, “Though I wouldn’t quite say I’m a celebrity.” 

The group of reporters had unknowingly stumbled on a gold mine, something that your tired brain refused to accept and something they didn’t even know. You’d probably have to play it safe from here on out, careful not to reveal too much about how you knew that Fernando felt that way about you. Sorry, Fernando Alonso felt that way about you.

“Whaaa.. You’ve never said anything or done anything?” The reporter asked, leaning in closer, the microphone coming dangerously close to touching your lips. You looked down at it and drew back before starting to speak.

“Well, no. Just because I knew about it doesn’t mean I should do something about it. I said I’m loyal to Mercedes, I’m not breaking that.” You mumbled into the microphone as it edged closer and closer to your lips. 

The looks of incredulity that were spread across the group that had accosted you nearly made you laugh, as though it was impossible that you’d known and not done anything.

In fairness to them, when you’d learned that Fernando had some sort of interest in you, say around 8 years ago, you had had a bit of a tiff, something you were a little embarrassed to admit, and then you’d promptly asked him out. He refused to accept that though, meeting you the next day and asking you out with more flair. 

You’d already accepted before he’d gotten the words out and bam, all of a sudden you were wearing the reddest scrubs you could find when you were walking around the hospital instead of the black one’s you’d been wearing since Toto became team principal. It was an inconspicuous form of representing the man you’d grow to love, something which had come with a lot of warning and pleas to reconsider from Toto.

Life had continued, and after a very busy 2019, you had fallen pregnant, something which you had thought definitely wouldn’t have happened at your age. But life finds a way I suppose and there you were, a baby Alonso permanently attached to your hip.

2020 was a nice year, Fernando being able to be there to see the baby grow from a, for lack of better words, crying sack of flesh and into a crawling child something that you cherished. However, life continued and Fernando went back to racing while you eventually returned to the hospital and your philanthropy after a few years, returning back to take care of your baby after shifts.

That’s where you were at at the moment, having been living together for well past the amount of time your parents had ever though unmarried couples should be. The newly acquired ring on your finger had quietened their worries though it increased the groaning of Toto and the joy coming from Geri. 

You were a bit confused, though, why Fernando had decided to bring you up in an interview. You’d thought that you both had decided to not talk about it if not asked, though the possibilities of being asked about it were almost slim-to-none. 

To be fair, if he’d been blatantly asked who his celebrity crush was and he said someone else, you would have been a bit miffed when the inevitable message from that person rolled into his inbox. 

But still, it was curious what a reporter was doing asking a fully-grown man what his celebrity crush was. Maybe it was a gossip article, or maybe it was something to do with Taylor Swift and trying to get him to admit to their secret relationship.

The reporter in front of you cleared their throat.

“If you haven’t seen the news then and you are loyal to Mercedes, you’ll probably be happy to know that Lewis Hamilton also said you were his celebrity crush!” The excitement in their voice was obviously staged as they read the pre-written line, as though they were put off that you weren’t more hyped, but all you could think was ‘there it was’.

You probably should’ve seen it coming, to be honest, Fernando not the guy to try and one-up. You couldn’t wait to go home and watch the video footage of the inevitable glare he’d thrown at Lewis before speaking threateningly, probably holding himself back from spilling about the family you’d both created. 

That was probably why he’d waited a few seconds before picking up the call that you’d hurriedly hung up, preparing himself to face the brunt of your giggles for a few minutes before you calmed down. 

However, you hadn’t been able to tease him about the thing you didn’t know about because of the reporters who were filming you, waiting for your reaction to the news Lewis Hamilton himself had a celeb-crush on you, as though that even meant anything and wasn’t a way to get on Fernando’s toes. 

“Oh.” You said after a second. The crew deflated and an incredulous look showed itself on the interviewer’s face as she processed your word before quickly covering it up.

“You’re not a big Hamilton fan?” She asked, trying to extract something more from you. You shrugged.

“Don’t mind him.” You simply remarked before exaggeratedly yawning and checking your watch. You then made a dramatically shocked face and turned back to the cameras.

“Well I best get going!” A slight accent that you’d never used before sneaked into your words and you cleared your throat.

“I trust you guys know where the exit is.” You said, referring to the camera crew before turning around and making your way across the garage to where your car sat.

“Do you have anything to add?” The interviewer shouted across the cavern in an attempt to get something more from their visit and you turned as you walked, spinning around your keys. 

The group looked a bit defeated, the glimmer in their eyes dulled as though they thought they would’ve gotten more lucky than what they had. You couldn’t but take pity on them, the thought of them putting in more work after this to try and get a good story playing on your heartstrings.

Anyways, Fernando had already done a little bit of the revealing of your relationship, what could a few more hints do?

“No, sorry!” You yelled back before pausing a second and continuing slyly. “I’m just gonna go home to my kid, hopefully you guys get home safe to your families.” 

Really well done there, inserted completely naturally. You turned back around, hearing the gasps echoing from the group and the increase in chatter as you unlocked your car, hopped in, and booted it up.

You quickly called Fernando as you got in the car, him picking up instantly. 

“What was that about?” He asked, the sound of his voice playing through your speakers making you smile as you relaxed back into the seat, watching the increasingly frantic movements of the young reporters. 

“Sorry, I got ambushed.” You said as you pulled out of your parking spot and followed the lines till you reached the entrance, waving at the group before pulling out of the garage. There was little-to-no traffic as you drove through office blocks, before pulling onto the highway.

“Ambushed?” He asked worried and you replied, telling the story of what happened that had caused you to hang up on him. He responded and laughed where appropriate, a skill that he’d gained over years of talking to you.

When you’d finished he went quiet and you enjoyed the silence, one hand on the steering wheel as you pulled off the highway and into your quiet neighborhood. 

“They know we have a child?” He asked and you nodded before responding.

“They know I have a child.” You affirmed and he sighed, pondering a second.

“They know it’s not with Lewis right?” You couldn’t help the giggle that spouted from your throat, you eventually having to pull over as the ridiculousness of the situation dawned over you.

You couldn’t see but on the other side of the world, Fernando was laying in his hotel bed, a smile on his face as he listened to you laugh. The story you’d told had been strange, though he supposed it was his fault, and he was glad you could see the humour in it instead of panicking. He thought for a second.

“Should we come clean?” He asked and you stopped laughing, silence coming from your side of the phone. He called your name, his smooth accent pronouncing it perfectly. You had both hands on the steering wheel, pulled over somewhere on your way home to your child, with your soon-to-be husband on the phone, debating whether or not you should reveal your relationship.

It had been long enough, you were plenty secure in your relationship, but you were worried about the impact it would have on your child. You didn’t want them to grow up in a world were they were stood in the shadow of their parents instead of being recognised for being themself, you’d lived a version of that and knew how frustrating it could get. 

But it would be nice to be able to go to races and be with your fiance instead of your brother who could get incredibly annoying, incredibly fast. You finally nodded your head, the decision coming fast as you weighed the benefits and cons.

“Let’s do it.” You said finally and you could hear Fernando sigh in relief and mumble in agreeance.

The way that Toto’s name had popped up on your phone after you said that still haunted your dreams sometimes.

hope you liked this unedited mess

It’s past 12 I’m sorry

#fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #alonso x reader #fernando alonso x y/n #f1 smau

[tswhiisftteedr]

Memories ☆ One Shot

☆Merchant Husband!Jamil Viper x Fem!Yuu!Reader x Merchant Husband!Kalim Al-Asim:

After your student career at NCR, Crowley had yet to find you a way to bring you back to your world. But that didn’t matter anymore, you had by now found yourself a new home in Twisted Wonderland. A family of your own, two wonderful husbands and children. But despite always moving forward, it is sometimes nice to look back to sweet moments of the past..

Warnings: Mature Content, Swearing/Explicit Language, Reader gets called slutty one time but the rest is loving and fluffy. Not Proofread. READER & THE GUYS ARE ABOVE AGE AND MARRIED KEEP THAT IN MIND BEFORE ENGAGING.

Based on this ask:

So could you do a One-Short of Jamil x F!Reader x Kalim? In which the three, now adults and married, both rulers of Scalding Sands, after a day of work and putting the children to bed (Aisha the eldest, daughter of Jamil and Y/n, and Omar, son of Kalim and Y/n), Y/n was organizing the things when he finds a photo album from the time when the three of them studied at NRC, so the three of them start to remember from the time they met, to the moment they got married (while having flashbacks of those moments), remembering all the good and bad times they had, and at the end they have an intimate moment, let's say... 👉🏻👌🏻, if you know what I mean😏

I kept imagining Kalim and Y/n laughing at Jamil, when they went to Scalding Sands for the fireworks festival, where they heard several embarrassing stories from him, including one (I made this one up) where when Jamil and Kalim met, Jamil mistook Kalim for a girl and was all in love about him

Notes: Since the al asim are a long line of wealthy merchans but not royals, I didn’t make them rulers(as in sultans) but high in the the contries hierarchy. Also I don’t know if I actually like that one, I’m not sure this fic is that good, sorry if you don’t like it.

Author Note: I have 15+ other request to work on after this one but I also have to study. About 5 are twst and rest are Hazbin hotel. I have gotten sub!vox x Succubus reader, zestmilla and a Velvette x autistic reader request, but those don’t follow my rules. Though I think I might do the Velvette one, because I hadn’t put in my rules that: I don’t think I have the writing abilities to fulfill a request like that one, when it was sent out. But I’m still not sure, it’s a maybe type of situation, anyways that’s me and my life. Lol anyways enjoy!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

It had been a long, tiring day, so much to do, and you swore to yourself more than once that you were surrounded by incompetent idiots. Being the wife of an old money merchant and a brilliant new money one was a difficult task, you were constantly on your feet, ordering around, signing off on shipments, formulating contracts and making phone calls.

Despite the discomfort and exhaustion that hard work brought you, it was inevitable that you would grow accustomed to it. Reminiscing no more about the world you had left behind, the scalding sands were your home, with your two husbands and your children.

Aisha and Omar, the light of your day. The sunshine they brought into any room they entered, that always made you smile.

Aisha resembled Jamil so much that no one could question where she had gotten her traits from, always calculating and good at keeping her emotions in check, she was truly the responsible elder daughter. Though, same could be said for Omar and Kalim. The two of them were like pees in a pot, the times they would fall to their endeavours you couldn’t help but wondered if one of them was really an adult.

But at last it was time for your little sunshines to go to bed, they had school tomorrow and you didn't want them to be sleepy in class. So after saying goodbye to their Nanny, Mrs.Miriam, you tucked them in. Sweet fairy tales and gentle lullabies to hold their hands on their journey to dreamland.

As you step out of the children’s bedroom you could help but notice the door to the storage room was croaked open, ‘must have been the kids’ you assume. After all, Aisha loved to wear your old dresses, even if they didn't fit. And have a tea party in them with her brother, Omar probably wore one of Jamil's many business suits, he loved to look professional during these play dates, even though the big fabric made him look somewhat ridiculous.

You stepped in to make sure everything was tidy, but much to your expectation and disappointment, the children had left the room a mess.

At that moment, you sincerely asked yourself why you didn't have a maid, ‘you were rich, so why were you the one who had to clean up?’ But no reason to lament on it for too long, being pissy wouldn’t clean the room.

So you reluctantly began to reorganize the chamber, despite your tired state. While doing so, you coincidentally happen to stumble onto a fancy-looking box, a rather large one at that. It had an inscription carved into it, 'Memories'. And upon opening it, you had discovered about 5 or so photo albums. Three of them belonged exclusively to Kalim and Jamil, one was dedicated to the three of you and the last one was just NRC memories in general.

Opening the album filled with shared emotions brought a delightful wave of nostalgia to your heart. Swiftly completing the room cleaning, you carried the box to the living room, eager to reminisce about high school days and enjoy glimpses of your husband's past.

After about 30 minutes of reviewing the photo albums, you had only reached halfway through the NCR one when you heard the sound of keys opening the front door.

Focusing on the voices, you recognized your husbands, you had been eagerly anticipated their return. Myriam had only prepared food for the children, so you had patiently waited for Jamil to arrive and treat you to his delicious cooking.

As the two men entered, shedding coats and shoes, you overheard Kalim sharing a laugh about his workday. At least one of you three found joy in the challenges of being successful merchants.

“Well hello there, what's a lovely lady like yourself doing all alone tonight?” Jamil greeted, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and planting a kiss on the crook of your neck.

‘Such a flirt,’ you mused to yourself, even after years of marriage, he still seized every opportunity to hit on you—an aspect not everyone would expect given his usual demeanor. “Nothing too special, my good sir. Just indulging in the pleasure of walking down memory lane,” you replied, gesturing to the open photo album on your lap.

"Mhm, I see," he responds, while your other husband explores the elegant box. Pulling out one of the albums that you didn't contribute to, he opens it and flips to the first page. Sporting a broad grin, he exclaims, "Man, this brings me back!"

After giving a glance at which album Kalim had chosen, Jamil nods in agreement. "Sure does, though I did hate you when those pictures were taken."

"That's so mean, Jamil!" Kalim protests.

"What can I say? You were quite the annoying and demanding kid. I'm glad Omar didn't completely take after you with that one." He sneakers and Kalim whines as a responds. Though it ends with both of them lightly laughing.

It's true that Jamil and Kalim once had a conflicting relationship, but after working through their dynamics, they became good friends and, subsequently, lovers.

It all began as a sort of love triangle after the winter break of your first and their second year. Kalim confessed to Jamil that he had fallen for you, not realizing that Jamil had been harboring feelings for you for quite some time. But instead of brushing off his emotions for the sake of the Al-Asim family as he had previously done, Jamil candidly admitted to Kalim that he also liked you and wouldn't back down just because Kalim felt the same.

A friendly competition ensued, as they vied for your attention by outdoing each other whenever you were present. ‘You had trouble with a certain topic in class? Jamil would help you out.’ (1 point for Jamil). ‘You wanted new stationary because the ones Crowley had provided were on their last lives, Kalim would get them for you, gold or silver encrusted? Your pick.’ (1 point for Kalim). And so on.

However, it did happen that the ever-clumsy Kalim would unintentionally disrupted Jamil's plans, such as on the before Halloween night. Jamil had prepared meticulously to ask you to the Halloween dance, crafting a special gift.

With the assisted by the ‘unexpectedly benevolent at that moment’ Professor Crewel, he concocted a bouquet of everlasting sparkling flowers. Perfecting the potion applied to the plants, creating a handcrafted card, and embroidering a sweet message on the ribbon that would tie it all up, took considerable time. Considering his responsibilities as vice housewarden, club duties, and student work, he may or may not have sacrificed a significant amount of sleep for those flowers, but despite the sleepless nights that took some toll on his health, he believed it was worth it for the girl he loved. Because ‘Hey, what’s a couple hours of missed beauty sleep when we’re taking about making happy the future love of you life!’

Everything was set to be flawless – he was impeccably dressed in his uniform, almost done with his hair, just a bouquet delivery away from asking you out. ‘Simple, right?’

However, what Jamil hadn't anticipated was that, despite Kalim growing up surrounded by gold and precious gems, he still acted like a magpie drawn to anything shiny. Walking through the scarabia hallways, Kalim noticed the slightly ajar door to Jamil's room and, feeling the urge to close it, approached. ‘He didn’t want people going in to his friend jamil’s room with his consent!’ after all.

Though, his concern for people entering Jamil's room without his agreement didn't seem to extend to himself. After seeing light reflect on something through the door’s opening, he entered, consequently spotting the beautiful sparkling bouquet on the vice housewarden's desk and couldn't resist getting a closer look.

As Jamil returned to the room, Kalim, in a reflex, hid the flowers behind himself to cover the fact that he had touched something he shouldn't have.

Obviously, Jamil immediately noticed the bouquet behind the white-haired boy; with around 100 flowers, it couldn't be easily concealed. As he was about to ask for the flowers, Jamil took a noticed to something in peculiar – Kalim was remarkably close to the desk, espagnol with the flowers behind his back. That's when it dawned on him: Kalim was currently crushing the flowers.

Seizing Kalim by the shoulder and reclaiming the flowers, Jamil couldn't help but observe the crushed petals that now marred the majority of the bouquet. As Kalim acknowledged the dire state of the plants, he looked at Jamil with a face full of guilt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to get a better look, and then you surprised me-" Kalim began.

"Oh, so now it's my fault? My fault you came into my room without asking, and it's my fault you touched something that didn't belong to you? Do you even know what these were for? I worked so hard to make them look that way! But now they're ruined!" Jamil emphasized, throwing the bouquet on the ground.

Now grabbing Kalim by his collar, Jamil continued, "They were for me to ask Y/N to the dance. I spent so much time trying to make them look perfect, something you wouldn't understand since you probably would've just bought something instead of taking the time to make it. You just ruin everything. Shit, you make me so fucking angry!"

The sudden yank on Kalim's collar caused him to stumble backward, landing on the edge of the desk, his legs still firmly planted on the ground. He yelped softly in surprise as he felt Jamil's breath hot against his neck, and a shiver ran down his spine at the combination of anger and... something else? Maybe it was just the closeness that made him tremble.

"L-Look I’m sorry," he managed to choke out between ragged breaths. "Please forgive Jamil, I-I didn’t mean too."

However, Jamil's grip tightened further, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush against each other. Their faces were mere centimeters apart now, and Jamil's eyes bore into Kalim's like daggers. Despite his rage, there was an underlying heat burning brightly in his eyes, threatening to consume both of them.

Without warning, Jamil leaned forward, crushing their lips together full of madness. His tongue forced its way past Kalim's surprised lips, seeking entry into his mouth. His hands moved up to cup Kalim's face, holding him in place as he deepened the kiss.

Finally breaking the kiss, “What the hell,”Tsk, “Shit! I don’t know what came over me, I was just so mad and-“ Jamil began rambling but is cut off when an audibles “fuck” came out of Kamil’s lips.

“Did you just say fuck?” Jamil question,

“You just kissed me and that’s what you’re worried about!” Kalim retorts.

“You’re right, sorry, I’m sorry. Let’s just forget about this and never speak of it a-“ Jamil starts again,

“Wanna do it again?” Kalim cuts off once more.

Meanwhile you patiently waited at the location Jamil had texted you, but after 45 minutes of silence and Jamil not responding to your texts, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You weren't about to get stood up, no matter how pretty the motherfucker was. Heading straight to Scarabia ready for any excuse or so you thought. What you didn't anticipate was walking into both of your crushes making out on Jamil's bed.

They were so absorbed in each other that they hadn't noticed your presence in the room. To break their entrancement, you casually remarked, "Hot." Seeing the two guys you admire in appearance and personality, kissing and grabbing at each other was an undeniably attractive sight.

However, that your words did break their moment. Pulling away, Jamil spoke from under Kalim, "Um, hey, how's it going, Y/N?"

"Don't 'Y/N' me, Jamil. You texted me to meet you in front of the Seven's statues because you had something important to tell me. Then you don't show up and ignore all my texts. Now, if you want to continue your make-out session with Kalim, I'd suggest you promptly spit out what you wanted to tell me," you sternly replied, perhaps a bit too harsh. Despite your initial reaction, you quickly faced the reality that if they liked each other, you couldn't be with either of them and that hurt you. Or so you thought until their next words.

"Oh, well, the thing was that I wanted to ask you to the dance, but the bouquet I made for you kinda went south," he said, looking at the smushed gift on the floor. Following his gaze, you discovered the beautifully sparkling yet crushed flowers at your feet.

"So wait—why are you making out with Kalim if you were going to ask me out? I get the idea of going as friends, but the bouquet is a bit over the top for situations like that." You point out.

"No, it's not. Shit, it's hard to explain," he paused and collected himself, with Kalim now seated beside him.

"So, what happened is that I was going to ask you out as my date, in a romantic type of way. But Kalim accidentally ruined my gift, and that got me so angry, then we kind of just started making out. So I guess I also like Kalim in addition to you," Jamil explained.

"I'm confused as fuck... so let me get this clear, you like me, but you also like Kalim, and he's okay with it," you remarked.

"Yeah, I mean, I also like you. So it's kinda better if he also does," Kalim replied.

"Wait— You also like me?" you questioned.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I know this is sort of really weird, and it's totally fine if you don't reciprocate our feelings. I totally get it. You are in no obligation to do so," Jamil says to you.

"You're right, I'm not obligated to do so," you paused, making their hearts stop. The rollercoaster of emotions from anger and anxiety to hot and bother to finally feeling rejected was a bit too much to handle in such a short amount of time. But your next words brought peace to their hearts and minds. "But, would it be weird if I were to admit that I also liked the two of you?"

"At this point, not at all," Jamil replied.

"So is it okay if I join your make-out sesh?" you asked.

"Of course!" Kalim exclaimed, grabbing your wrist and, consequently, throwing you onto the bed with the two of them.

And that's how the three of you began your relationship.

Now back to the present,

The three of you had migrated to your Shaftland(Alaskan) king-sized bed, with you positioned between the two. You were all in pyjamas by now, you in shorts and a t-shirt. Currently, you were flipping through the album Kalim had picked up.

"Oh, and this was the first picture we took after I realized you were a guy," Kalim said, pointing at a photo of the two of them studying as children.

"Wait, you thought Jamil was a girl?" you questioned.

"Well, I did at first. He was really pretty as a kid and had nice long hair, though, I guess he still is," he said with a giggle. You looked at your other husband for confirmation, half-expecting Kalim to be playfully trying to confuse you. However, Jamil nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, apparently he did for the longest time. We got introduced at four, and during the span of 6 years, he thought I was a chick," he explained.

“So how did he find out you weren't?" you asked.

"One day, he dragged me out in the rain to play a game of ball. I tried to tell him that we couldn't, but he wouldn't budge. After about half an hour, I finally convinced him to come back in to avoid both of us getting a cold. I had prepared a bath for both of us to use, but, of course, it had to be kept a secret. I couldn't let anyone know I might have let Kalim get sick. So once the bath was ready, I began to strip. My shirt was halfway off when he started rambling about taking responsibility as the honorable son of the Al-Asim family and marrying me after seeing me indecently. I just stared at him for a couple of minutes, in shock, and then corrected him about my gender. The looks he gave me were like I had just turned his whole world upside down," Jamil explained.

"Well, it felt like you did back then," Kalim commented with a huff.

"I guess props to Kalim for wanting to do the 'decent thing' and marry you," you said with a snicker.

"Ha, ha, really funny," Jamil replied sarcastically.

"In the end, it did happen, though," Kalim said, somewhat of a marvel in his eyes.

"True, maybe 10-year-old Kalim had fortune-telling abilities. You never know," you said.

"For some reason, I strongly doubt that," Jamil retorted.

You soon turned to the album filled with pictures of the three of you. As you examined the images, a hint of insecurity crept in.

"I wish I still looked like that, being 16 and beautiful," you expressed, but that didn't sit well with your husbands, not at all.

"Babes, what are you talking about! You're literally so beautiful, like really beautiful. I mean it," Kalim reassured.

"Yes, he's right. You’ll always be gorgeous," agreed Jamil, wrapping his arm around your frame.

"And besides, nobody could ever compare to you," added Kalim with a wink.

Your face gets warmer at their compliments, feeling a little better but still you couldn't shake off the nagging doubt in your mind. You knew they meant well, but sometimes it was hard not to compare yourself to your younger self or to other woman in general.

"Thanks you two, really, I appreciate it," you managed to say softly, trying to sound more confident than you actually were.

Kalim leaned in closer, nuzzling his nose into your neck and whispering hot breath against your sensitive skin. "I love how you smell so sweet," he muttered before trailing kisses down your neckline, leaving marks along the way.

Jamil followed suit, nipping at your earlobes and sucking lightly on them before moving downwards towards your cleavage. His hands traced slow circles around your waist, teasingly brushing against your sensitive flesh.

You gasp softly, arching your back into their touch, unable to resist their advances. Your heart raced faster than usual, thumping wildly against your chest as anticipation built up inside of you.

You felt your shorts being unfastened one by one, exposing your body to your husband’s hungry gazes. You closed your eyes, savoring the anticipation building up inside. Your breath hitched as you felt Kalim's warm fingertips teasingly tracing along your thighs, brushing against against sensitive flesh before dipping slightly lower towards your wet panties.

Lifting your shirt, his tongue traced circles around your nipples, sucking and licking each one until they stood erect and hardened.

Jamil's hands moved higher up your body, cupping your breasts in his large palms, massaging them roughly yet tenderly. His thumb played with your nipples, teasing them mercilessly while his lips found yours, claiming their own passionate kiss. Their tongues tangled together, exploring every crevice of each other's mouths as he continued to fondle your chest.

As things escalated further, both men began to undress themselves, revealing their cocks straining against their boxers. You could feel your pussy growing increasingly hotter and more lubricated at the sight of their hardened members, yearning for the moment they would finally fuck you. You moaned, your voice trembling with desire and need.

Kalim moved between your legs, spreading them wider apart before leaning down to nibble on your sensitive inner thighs. His hot breath fanned across your wet pussy lips, making goosebumps rise on your sensitive skin. "I want to taste you," he croaked against your panties, his hands gripping tightly onto your thighs. He did become ‘pushy’ then his usual self when it came to sex.

Before you could respond, he yanked down your underwear, exposing your pussy to his hungry mouth. He groaned deeply, savoring the scent of your arousal filling his nose. His tongue darted out, tracing slow circles around your entrance before exploring your hole, lapping up every drop of your dripping arousal. You cried out in pleasure, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over your.

Jamil stop you momentarily to change the position, now under you, with your back against his chest, hands spreading your thighs, his member now pressing against your entrance. With one swift motion, he thrust himself inside her tight hole, stretching her walls wide open. You gasped at the feeling, meanwhile Kalim returned to devouring your pretty pussy.

"You taste so fucking good, baby," Kalim muttered hoarsely between licks and sucks, his tongue darting in and out of your wet entrance. His fingers continued to tease your sensitive spots, finding just the right rhythm to send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Jamil grunted deeply, thrusting faster now, his cock stretching your tight channel even further, filling you up completely. He reached down to play with one of your nipples, pinching it gently before twisting it roughly. "That's it, take all of me, my slutty little wife"

Your moans turned into high-pitched whimpers as they both relentlessly attacked every inch of your body. Your walls clamped tightly around Jamil's cock, milking him for more while you ended up squirting onto Kalim's face. The mixed flavors of their combined arousal only served to fuel their lustful hunger.

“Oh god, yes," you moaned, your voice breaking with pleasure. You felt so full, yet so empty at the same time. Your pussy clenched tightly around his thick shaft, milking him as he began to move faster and harder, slamming into your core repeatedly. Meanwhile Kalim had broke away to focus on his own erection, soon placing himself in your mouth and facefucking you. You didn’t protest, he had been so good to you, ‘so why not let him have his fun?’

"Shit, you’re so beautiful Y/N," stated Jamil, his hips moving in sync with Kalim's thrusting rhythm. You could feel yourself nearing orgasm once more, your body trembling in anticipation of release.

"Fuck, ‘it’s to much!" you cried out against your husband’s cock, though it came out as a mumble, in addition your voice was already hoarse from their passionate lovemaking. Your pleasing noises only served to fuel their lust even more, pushing them closer to climax together. You and Jamil being the first to finish, he slightly thrusted into to ride out your high.

Kalim was watching the two of you like a hawk, throwing his head back in ecstasy as he relished in the sounds you made. He soon reached his own breaking point, moving back to his original position to finish on your pussy and stomach.

After a couple minutes of heavy breathing,

"This was fantastic," Kalim remarks between breaths.

"Yeah, it was. By the way, are you still taking the pill?" Jamil asks, turning to face you.

"Oh, no. I forgot I was on a break from it," you say, a bit alarmed.

"Well, looks like Aisha and Omar might have some potential siblings on the way," Kalim says with a giggle.

"Ha ha, real funny," you respond sarcastically.

"I mean, it's not that bad of an idea," Jamil suggests.

"Okay, less thinking about more kids, and more thinking of showering now. I am beat and sweaty," you say.

"Yes, ma'am," the two of them say in unison.

And that’s how your night ended.

Thanks @Selena_Twisted_Wonderland on AO3 for requesting!

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[heaven4lostgirls]

Serene living

pairing: Barty crouch jr x gn!reader

word count: 1.2k summary: Barty Crouch Jr loves his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N loves their boyfriend and after a little conversation Barty gets a little jealous.

a/n: this wasn't requested but I miss writing so this just came to mind as I was listening to music

Barty usually spent the better part of his day slacking off, he would convince Evan to spend their time pranking the first years around them whilst you, Regulus and Pandora spent your time near the black lake talking and reading in peaceful serenity. This was often interrupted by your significant others raucous laughter and him and Evans thudding footsteps. You meet Regulus’ bored expression and Pandora’s dreamlike giggle, and you roll your eyes playfully as your feel Barty fall down next to you and throw his arm around you.

You shove him playfully and whine as he pulls the book you planned on reading out of your hands. “I’m trying to read Barty” your groan only fuels his playful expression as he stands up and starts reading your passage out loud in a dramatic fashion. “His eyes darkened at her lustful gaze- woah what the fuck is this” he cried as he skipped through the pages trying to read your obviously very…fruitful choice of novel.

Your cheeks warm as Regulus quirks a brow over his own copy of what you know to be a well known queer romance with some very descriptive passages. You whine and make your way to stand as Barty continues to parade your novel around the tree you all had been leant against. Barty starts a small jog around everyone in hopes of you not catching up to him and your annoyance turns fond at his sparkling eyes and melodramatic tone as he continues to retell the characters sexual endeavours.

“Wait, how the bloody hell did they get into that position? Love, your book is very confusing” he complains as Evan snorts into his hand at Barty’s inability to understand. You manage to grab the novel from his hand and scowl at him, his playful gaze meets yours and when he sees your little scowl, he makes it his mission to make you laugh instead. He begins to quickly pepper kisses all over your face in hopes of hearing your laughter and he is once again successful in his plan as your melodic giggles fill the air. You can feel the smile on his face as he places small kisses on your neck.

“You two are so cute” Pandora’s sweet voice pulls you both out of your moment as you smile over Barty’s shoulder. “Vomit inducing more like” you hear Dorcas say as she places her school bags on the grass as she lays down. “Thanks Dora, why so salty Cas? Marlene ignores you in class or something” Barty teases and Dorcas throws up her middle finger as she covers her eyes from the bright sun. You laugh as you pull Barty down to sit next to Regulus as you make your way in between in his legs and lean back into him.

“I’ll have you know I had double potions with Slughorn before this break” you all simultaneously wince or negatively react at her statement, Slughorn’s lectures could go on for ages and all of you were accustomed to the few students who had fortunately fallen asleep and not been caught. You sigh happily and snuggle into Barty’s soft wool jumper as you hear Pandora talking to Evan and Doracs about the new crystals she had found in the woods while looking for Wrackspurts.

 You hear Barty hum as his hands play with your fingers before he leans down closer to your ears in order to mumble a question to you “You want to take a nap in the dorm love?” and you mindlessly hum as you think about it, shaking your head you look up at him. “No, I quite like it here, are you tired?” you question him softly and he shakes his head softly as he pecks your forehead. You both tune into the current conversation that’s being had, something about James Potters good looks coming from Regulus and Evans disagreement, he’s more into Sirius to Regulus’ disgust whilst Dorcas thinks Remus is the more attractive Marauder whilst Pandora shyly expresses, she prefers Peter.

They all turn to the both of you with deadly serious expressions that you’re almost scared to find out what they’re about to ask you. “Who’s the most attractive out of the Marauders?” Its Evan that poses the question to which you scrunch your face in an animated thinking expression. Barty answers with zero hesitance “Remus.” He says confidently and you raise your brow at him “You’ve thought about this” you accuse him, and he shrugs with a shit-eating grin on his face. “What? Am I not allowed to recognise the beauty that is Remus bloody Lupin?” he defends, and you shake your head at him.

“James.” You shrug and Regulus meets your eyes with a smirk full well knowing that you both had this conversation before you and Barty had started dating after a couple drinks at a Slytherin party. Barty’s hands tighten around you, and you look up to see his face in a scowl. “What? Can’t handle Y/N having other peoples attention?” Regulus smirks at him in teasing and Barty huffs petulantly. “Why’d you say that” he whines as he pouts down at you. Your laughter makes his scowl deepen further. “So, it’s okay for you to admire Remus’ beauty but I can’t say I find James Potter fit?” you laugh at his pettiness, and he rolls his eyes. “That! Was very different” he points out and you cackle harder.

“Calm down Bartemius, nobody is stealing from your psycho ass.” Evan snorts and you start wheezing as Barty puffs his chest out in what you assume is supposed to be pride “damn right.” He says as he pulls you closer to him. You both often were never found far from one another, Barty was always someone who showed his affection through touch and normally whenever you were in his vicinity he often found his body seeking you out, always having an arm around your waist or your hands interlocked as you both took notes in class.

As you calm down from your laughing fit and the conversation shifts onto something else you see the Marauders make their way towards the black lake as well and without thinking you lift your hand and shout across the grounds. “Alright Potter?” you grin and as he turns around to look for you he smiles and waves at you “Yeah and you?” you laugh loudly as you basically feel Barty’s heated glare “Alright thanks” he nods and makes his way to where Sirius, Remus and Peter are waiting for him. Once he turns back around the group bursts into laughter as Barty scowls at all of you.

#juliwrites #harry potter #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty jr #barty crouch jr fluff #barty crouch jr angst #barty crouch jr blurb #barty crouch jr drabble #barty crouch jr imagine

[yangkitties]

Sleepy Hearts ✩ s.cb

pairing: seo changbin x gn!reader [established relationship] || word count: 0.3k genre: fluff || warnings: proof read but its been a while since i wrote this so it might be a shitty read 😔, you might end up needing to hug changbin real bad by the end of this btw 😁 synopsis: Tossing and turning in bed, Changbin tries to find a comfortable position to hopefully fall asleep in. Unsuccessful in his endeavours, he accidentally succeeds in waking you up. note: school has started for me and the anxiety of it all has been making me want to write a lot more but bc im an all science student im swamped with work even though it has only been 3 days :( so i will make do with posting an older piece of writing :] anyways, as always, i hope you enjoy reading it and ofc, my ask box is always open 🫶

Changbin hadn’t been sleeping very well. He had a bunch of deadlines comping up but he’d been going through a bit of a writer’s block lately, and the stress was getting to him.

And today wasn’t any different. Changbin laid there, covered in a warm duvet, sinking into a pile of pillows, staring at the ceiling listening to your shallow breaths and soft snores. He tried to focus on your breathing, to calm his mind so he could hopefully get some sleep. 

But to no avail, Changbin was left sleepless for a while longer. Growing impatient, Changbin wiggled under the blankets, trying to get into a comfortable position to sleep in. But all he did was wake you up. 

‘Bin.. baby? Are you still awake?’ You slurred, blinking your eyes and turning towards him. 

He pushed himself closer to you, guilty he woke you up, but happy you were here now. ‘Yeah.. ‘m sorry I woke you up..’ he said slowly, eyes shining up at you. You dragged him closer, his buff body making it harder to complete the task. 

‘S okay love.. is there anything wrong?’ You wrapped a leg around his waist, only to pull him impossibly close to you so that he was tucked into the frame of your body.  ‘Just have a lot on my mind.. I’m worried I’ll disappoint Chan hyung if I can’t submit these songs on time,’ whispering sadly, he cuddled up to you. ‘Oh baby. You know Chan’s never going to be disappointed in you for something you can’t control right? It’s absolutely okay to go through slumps my little beloved..’ you spoke into his hair, pressing careless kisses into his soft curls. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. ‘You’re doing so well, and everyone is so proud of you. As long as you’re trying your best baby, no one is ever going to be disappointed in you.’ Changbin smiled, grateful to have you by his side. 

‘Y/N.. what can I ever do to tell you how much I love you.. thank you.’ He nuzzled into your neck, giving you a bunch of little kisses. ‘Well why don’t you try sleeping then?’ 

Changbin just giggled, managing to cuddle into you more. And just like that, to the sound of your heartbeat, Changbin falls asleep.

©️ yangkitties 2023 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost 

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids drabble #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #changbin fluff #changbin imagines #changbin drabble #🖋️: nyx.writes ━ skz ☆

[thebestofoneshots]

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | TEASER

Piring: R.L. x S.B. x reader Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve gotten an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish. Warnings: the complete story will contain smut (this has some mild teasing and a few nudе scenes)

“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?” 

“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks. 

Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?” 

Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now. 

“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.” 

“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered. 

“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies. We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!” Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you.

“Okay,” he whispered.

(...)

You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?” 

“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.” 

“You what?” 

“Eros and Psyche, remember?” 

“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.” 

“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!” 

“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.” 

Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked. 

But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.

You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can–“ you started, biting your lip. 

“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.” 

You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way. 

You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“

Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.” 

You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted. 

Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. “Go on with your painting, yeah?” 

“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?”

Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it.

(...)

“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.” 

“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves. 

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT IS OUT NOW!!

Click on the link to read the full version

#wip #teaser #the marauders era #the marauders x you #the marauders x y/n #the marauders fandom #marauders x reader #the marauders x reader #the marauders smut #marauders smut #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #sirius black #moony #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #moony x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly marauders x reader #poly!marauders smut #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x y/n #wolfstar

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 18)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut, Torture

Words: 2,566

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

In the dimly lit labyrinth of the laboratory, the brilliant minds congregated in solitude, their shadows dancing along the walls as they delved deep into the secrets of science. The atmosphere was thick with tension and secrecy, as each scientist knew that their work held the key to unleashing the destructive power of the atom.

As you sat there, lost in thought, trying to comprehend the magnitude of our endeavours, you felt a sudden chill run down your spine that day, feeling as though something was not right.

Little did you know that the universe was aligning against you, and you were soon to be caught up in a sinister web of deceit and betrayal.

Without warning, armed guards burst into the laboratory, their faces grim and unforgiving. Their commander, Officer Pash, followed closely behind them, his eyes burning with intensity. With a coldness that froze your very core, he commanded your arrest without ever revealing his intentions. Before you could say anything, you were whisked away, leaving behind a trail of uncertainty.

"Excuse me. This hasn't been cleared with Dr Oppenheimer, has it? She can't just leave, we have work to do," a fellow scientist argued, being the only one who was at the laboratory with you this morning while the others, from adjacent facilities, watched on as you struggled against the handcuffs that had been placed on you. 

"Don't worry sir, Dr. Oppenheimer knows about this," the officer reassured calmly. "He approved the arrest," he continued on, and the scientist hesitated for a moment before looking over to where you and the officer were.

In that brief instant, a silent communication passed between you two as you shook your head. 

"He doesn't know. He wouldn't have agreed to have me arrested like this," you told your colleague who gave you a nod of understanding.

A mixture of sorrow and confusion played out across his face as he saw your handcuffed wrists, understanding that you were no longer free to continue working together. You turned back to look at him once more, offering a subtle nod and a faint smile, begging him, without words, to see Robert. 

***

"Can you tell me what this is about?" you asked calmly as Officer Pash led you through the labyrinthine corridors, past numerous other scientists, some recognising you but most likely unaware of the situation unfolding around them.

"Shut up and keep walking. You will find out soon enough,"

Pash replied curtly, making sure to keep his voice low so as not to attract unwanted attention. His firm grip on your arm ensured that you remained close by as you walked through the dimly lit corridors all the way to a vehicle where a bag was placed over your head. The sense of unease continued to grow inside you, filling your chest with an overwhelming heaviness.

The journey took far longer than you anticipated, taking a long drive followed by a walk through several mazes of concrete hallways and sterile rooms filled with equipment, all eerily devoid of life save for the flickering fluorescent lights casting eerie shadows upon the walls.

Each step you took brought you closer to the unknown destination while dread continued to build within your chest, threatening to break loose and consume you entirely. Your heart raced, palms sweating as your body seemed to be alive with anxiety. The constant pounding of your heart thumped in your ears, drowning out even the sound of Officer Pash's heavy boots.

Your thoughts kept drifting back to Robert, thinking that there would have been no way that he agreed to this, knowing that you were pregnant with his child. 

You knew he cared deeply for you, yet still, he never said a word about any impending arrests or investigations. Was this Officer Pash lying? Had someone else informed him of your relationship with Robert and manipulated the situation? 

Your head swam with these questions as the bag was removed from your head, and you found yourself in a cold, brightly lit room filled with rows of filing cabinets. The harsh fluorescent lighting cast harsh shadows on the walls, making it feel as if you were trapped in a nightmare.

Your mind raced with possibilities, attempting to piece together the reason for your abduction. You wondered how Robert would react when he discovered you missing. Would he think you had abandoned him? Or would he suspect foul play and search for you relentlessly?

Just as you began to lose hope and despair, Officer Pash re-entered the room, closing the door behind him. He approached you silently, his shadow stretching across the floor like a dark tendril. His presence made your skin crawl.

His cold gaze bore into yours, seemingly capable of seeing straight through your soul. A wave of terror coursed through your veins, causing your heart to race wildly in your chest. Officer Pash approached you slowly, methodically, moving with calculated precision. The space between you felt almost tangible, an invisible barrier that both repelled and drew you toward him simultaneously. Your breath caught in your throat, your hands trembling with fear and anticipation. His proximity alone made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and utterly defenceless against whatever intentions he may hold.

His presence was suffocating, engulfing you in a darkness that threatened to devour your very essence. Your legs quivered beneath you, your body trembling with fear and anticipation as Officer Pash moved ever closer.

"Someone has leaked information to the Soviets," he stated coldly, his eyes boring into yours. 

"If you are suggesting that I have ties with the communists, then you are mistaken. I am loyal to the project and the development of the gadget," you answered, desperately trying to maintain your composure despite the mounting fear and panic inside you.

Officer Pash raised an eyebrow, a sceptical glint in his eye.

"Then why did I find these documents hidden beneath your bed?" he asked, and you bit your lip, uncertain how to respond.

"I didn't put these there. I don't even have access to these files,"

you argued, your voice wavering slightly under the weight of your fear.

"But someone had to have taken them from Dr Oppenheimer's office and hid them there," Officer Pash countered, his tone unwavering. "And you were the last person seen with Dr. Oppenheimer before these went missing."

You felt your heart sink in your chest, knowing that the evidence against you appeared to be mounting.

"Dr Oppenheimer and I...," you began to say, your thoughts racing as you tried to come up with a plausible explanation. The air in the room became thick with the weight of your fear, your breath catching in your throat as you fought to regain control of your emotions.

"Dr Oppenheimer and you?" Officer Pash queried, unaware of your affair.

"Well, I... I don't know how those documents got there," you stammered, unable to meet Officer Pash's unwavering gaze. "It must be some sort of setup," you added, hoping to convince him of your innocence.

"Someone is trying to sabotage the project by framing me as a spy," you pointed out, but the Officer simply laughed.

"Frame you, out of all people at Los Alamos?"

Officer Pash scoffed, his scepticism evident in his tone. "This isn't some small operation you're involved in here. It's a top-secret government project, and you've somehow managed to get entangled in a dangerous game of espionage. Why is that?" he asked before leaning over the desk and reaching for your throat, pressing down tightly. 

You let out a muffled cry as your world started to spin, everything going black for a split second. When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself bound to a chair, facing Officer Pash, who stood before you with a look of triumph etched on his face. 

"Since you won't cough up the information I am after voluntarily, we will have to implement some measures to aid your compliance moving forward," he declared with a cruel grin. 

"I prefer doing these things the Russian way," he then announced as the room fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on you with crushing force. Your heart raced, adrenaline flooding your system, leaving you feeling lightheaded and weak.

You tried to focus on your breathing, to stay present and alert amidst the rapidly escalating tension. As Officer Pash paced around the room, you could hear the sound of his boots echoing against the hard surface, creating an ominous rhythm that underscored the growing sense of danger surrounding you. His every movement seemed calculated, each step sending a shiver down your spine.

As the tension reached its peak, the silence between you grew almost deafening. Sweat dripped down your forehead, causing you to wipe it away with a trembling hand.

Your heart hammered in your chest, fear coursing through your veins. Officer Pash circled you, his eyes holding a calculating gleam. You could sense the power he held over you, a power that you could not match in this darkened room. Despite your attempt to remain composed, your voice shook with anxiety as you spoke. "Why would anyone want to frame me as a spy? I don't understand!" you cried and, without breaking his stride, Officer Pash chuckled darkly.

"Do you really expect me to believe that you are all innocent after what your father has been arrested for?" he stopped pacing, fixing you with a piercing gaze. "You see, I have no idea how you got clearance for a project like this in the first place," he paused, allowing the silence to fill the room.

As you struggled to maintain your composure, Officer Pash stepped towards you once more, his footfalls echoing against the hard floor, intensifying the feeling of being trapped in this darkened room. With each step, your heart raced faster, your breath became shallow. His eyes held a sinister glint, one that sent a shiver down your spine. He circled you, the intensity of his gaze causing your own to widen in fear.

"Let me tell you something," he whispered, his voice low and menacing. "We will get to the bottom of this, one way or another. Whether it takes hours, days, weeks…or even months."

The thought of spending endless days and nights in this dim, chilling room, subjected to Officer Pash's relentless interrogation, sent a fresh wave of terror surging through your veins.

"No, please!" you begged for mercy as Officer Pash brought another fabric bag and placed it over your head. 

You gasped in fear, struggling to breathe as the sensation of suffocation consumed you, your heart racing with terror. 

Pain exploded in your body as his strong hands bound your wrists tightly to the arms of the chair, restricting your movements and adding to your helplessness. Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, but the reality of your situation sank in: you were trapped, completely at his mercy.

You fought back tears, trying to maintain your composure, though your heart hammered wildly in your chest. "I can help you find the truth," you pleaded weakly, your voice hoarse from fear before. Suddenly, your head was being pulled back and cold water was poured over the sack covering your nose and mouth.

The shock of the unexpected sensation sent a jolt through your entire body, making you gasp for air. You felt like you were drowning. 

He kept pouring water until you were soaking wet, yet still unable to breathe properly.

Your lungs burned with the struggle for air, and you felt your limbs tremble with exhaustion. In the midst of this torment, Officer Pash's words seeped into your consciousness like poison: "Don't worry. We'll figure out the truth together."

As you writhed helplessly in your bonds, a new wave of fear washed over you: not just for your safety but also for the secrets you carried within.

"Please," you gasped against the water bag, "please, stop!" 

"I am...pregnant...please," you begged, your voice hoarse from fear and fatigue.  

Officer Pash hesitated for a moment, seemingly struck by the revelation. "Interesting," he said, raising an eyebrow. 

The room fell into a heavy silence as Officer Pash considered his next move. Finally, he removed the water bag from your head, the sudden release of pressure causing you to gasp for air.

"But irrelevant to me," he then said before pulling your head up again.

"Now, think about your child. You don't want to lose your child, do you?" Officer Pash challenged, his eyes boring into yours after he removed the wet bag from your head. 

"What would you do if I told you that your child's future depended on your cooperation?" he then asked and you felt your stomach twist with fear, your heart pounding in your chest. "Anything," you replied, your voice cracking with emotion.

Officer Pash smiled, a cruel, taunting smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "Good," he murmured, stepping closer to you.

"Then take some time to reflect and, tomorrow, we will continue this little conversation. If you talk and give me some names, then I will ensure that you receive sufficient food and water, ensuring the survival of you both," 

Officer Pash suggested calmly, a coldness behind his eyes. 

You swallowed hard, nodding your agreement while thinking furiously. This man had already threatened you physically and emotionally, and now your unborn child's life was at stake. "Alright," you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He left you alone in the room, the darkness wrapping around you like a shroud. Your eyes adjusted to the faint light filtering through the windows, casting eerie shadows across the barren walls.

Tag List Insert

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[kaznejis]

Make It Fun, Don't Trust Anyone- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he visibly failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.”  His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?”

A/N: Hello! If anyone sees this, I hope you enjoy! If not, this is entirely self sufficing and I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. Just to note, sorry if the scenes taken from the movie seem a little..rushed? If there's one thing I do not enjoy it's working out how to incorporate existing scenes into canon compliant fanfiction. The struggle.

Word Count: 6,692 / Read it on AO3!

If you'd like to see more from me about Erik- please feel free to send in any requests! :)

The Cuban sunlight had acted as the perfect antithesis to your situation; the gaping hole that had formed and taken a residual spot within your ribcage as you knelt beside Charles, screaming and crying at the lack of feeling in his legs. 

But your eyes had not been upon him. 

You had stared up at Erik, stomach collapsing at his stoic gaze; only remnants of his grief were prevalent to yourself, the person that had known him most in the world. That wretched helmet had sat upon his head, his eyes empty with the melancholy of his own steadfast determination. 

“Join me.” He had whispered, his lower lip trembling as his eyes finally landed upon you; the first time since you had boarded the plane to Cuba. He had reached out then, his palm splayed towards you; hope swimming in his eyes as he beckoned you forward. 

You had simply shaken your head, lips tight and breaths heaving as you held his gaze. You watched as his heart broke, as his eyes glistened and bloodied hands trembled. You watched as he nodded and as he turned away from you. Turned away from the love that you had shared, choosing his own foolish endeavours of revenge over you. Allowing grief to swallow you, you had ducked your head; unable to watch as he walked away, unable to face Charles, writhing in the pain of your lovers’ actions. 

That had been it- you had returned to the school. Welcoming and accepting prospective students; working as an administrator and overseeing the school’s board. It had been good, amazing- supplying a necessary distraction to the heartbreak you had endured and a chance to improve your powers, learn from the experiences of others. There, in your reluctant state of happiness, you had met Adam. 

Adam, the school’s mutant psychology teacher; specialising in mind-based and largely telekinetic powers. Your curiosity regarding Erik’s powers had led you to him, sitting beside his desk; asking question after question. Questions soon turned into conversations and you soon found yourself being courted. All the traditional romances that had never crossed your mind when with Erik had become your reality; constant flowers, gifts, candle-lit dinners as your heels caressed his leg beneath the table. 

Your family had loved him, adored him. They had never met Erik, for obvious reasons, and whilst they were more supportive of your mutant gene than the average family; they had hoped that you would still be able to live the average life. Meaning, that you would acquire the average husband. Your family had practically demanded that you married him despite only being a year into the relationship, the pointed remarks about you being ‘unwedded at such an age’ a constant force at each gathering. 

So, you had. You had adorned the white dress, the large diamond ring, and Charles had granted his blessings by allowing you to host the wedding on the school’s grounds. Everyone and anyone that could have possibly been there had been in attendance, a day simply to forget about the wrongdoings of the past, the present and the future. 

On paper, everything was perfect. 

“Do you ever think about him?” Charles had asked, the night before your wedding, the two of you nursing a glass of scotch each within his office. 

You had exhaled through your nose, a lodge forming at the base of your throat, “No.” Despite the pronunciation of such a small, singular word; your voice had croaked, your chest trembling pathetically. 

Charles had simply nodded, his eyes flickering; his powers catching your obvious lie. “He’s in prison now, you know?” 

You nodded, humming affirmatively, your gut twisting at the reminder. 

“Are you sure you want to go through with tomorrow?” 

“I do.” You smirked, a failed attempt at humour as Charles had only looked back at you with sympathy, “I can’t sit here and say that Erik is never on my mind but… this is for the best.” 

Charles had only nodded, his face twisting as hair fell before his eyes, “He will never bother us again, I will make sure of that.” 

Whilst you had thanked him, smile wide and eyes crinkling as you both raised a glass; you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach had swooped in disappointment. The way your chest had heaved with unbridled pain, simply at the thought of never seeing Erik again. You would wrestle with it for the years to come- the guilt of constantly thinking of another man as you lay beside your husband. 

Your love with Erik had, to simply put it, been enigmatic; fuelled by passion- both by the mission at hand and the way you felt for each other. There had been awful, screaming fights on the worst days and entangled limbs with scratches lining his spine on the best. You had loved him with every ounce of your being, cared for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t there. Whilst you had endured the worst pains of your life with him, you had also been at your happiest. 

It had been toxic, ferocious, you had never known what would come next. 

You missed it every day. 

You passed the feeling off as pure delusion, your mutant gene playing cruel tricks on your mind as the years passed; as you grew bored. Bored of the same mundane life every day, bored of the simple forehead kisses, bored of that house. You and Adam remained within the dark confines of the manor instead of finding a place of your own following the fallout of the war in Vietnam; acting as support for Charles, who had steadfastly begun to dwindle in both his morality and his health. You had used this as an excuse every time Adam had attempted to introduce the necessary conversation of moving on, settling down. Children. You had deflected his attempts every time, claiming that you needed to be there for Charles, that you weren’t ready, that it wasn’t the right time. 

You knew for a fact that the reality lay within your inability to let Erik go, your inability to potentially miss the opportunity to catch a taste of his mere presence again. As the breadth of time since he left and the distance with Adam widened, you thought of Erik more and more. His serrating blue eyes and wicked charm haunted every moment, both awake and unconscious. You yearned for him, worried for him, hated him. You hated him for giving you up so easily, your lack of support in that specific moment signifying the end of everything, defining the status of the rest of your life. Sometimes, during the darkest of nights, the ones where you felt so alone, the nights where the wind howled and the trees drew vines and branches upon the walls- you imagined what it would have been like to join him, to have clasped his hand against yours and allowed him to lead you into the darkness.

Secretly, you knew that following Magneto would have led to your early demise, sometimes you pondered on whether that could have been a better end to your time together than your reality. 

But then, as Spring turned into Summer; as the grounds of the manour flourished in their unkempt state and the sun cast illuminations through the large windows- Logan arrived at your doorstep. A mission from the future, unbelievable if not for the pure conviction in his eyes. Unbelievable if not for the grief that haunted his strong features. 

You had been completely unprepared when Logan had stood from the chair you had offered him, yourself having been perched on the edge of Charles’ crumpled couch; your legs crossed and hands clasped with worry as he had detailed the horrors he had experienced, the horrors that he was there to prevent. He had paced the length of the table, surveying each resident of the room; you hadn’t missed the way his eyes had flickered between you and Adam; his forehead scrunching before his brows raised in amusement. 

“Ah…he warned me about this.” He grinned, flicking a finger between the two of you and scratching at the base of his head. “Kinda weird to see actually.” 

“Sorry?” You smiled politely, head swarmed with confusion, you looked over at Adam only to see he bore a similar expression, “He?” 

“We need to find Magneto,” Logan spoke determinedly, his gaze fierce, his voice taking a tone of finality. He was serious, conviction overtaking the air as the gravity of the situation dawned upon each resident.  

You knew that he was right. 

In that moment, you had been able to do nothing but stand and promptly leave the room; abandon the sound of Charles’ manic laughter that followed Logan’s words, Hank’s doubt that tended to suffocate a room. But most notably, you were abandoning your so-called husband’s silence.  

Somehow, you found yourself curled beneath your bed covers, arms crossed over your knees like a small child; your form shrunken in your fear and heartbreak and doubt, tremors racking your shoulders. As you attempted to steady your breathing, a knock sounded at your bedroom door. Expecting it to be Adam, you promptly rose from your position; scrubbing furiously at your swollen eyelids. 

But to your shock, Logan entered the room. 

“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” He held his hands out placantingly, slowly approaching you as if you were a timid animal, “I know you don’t know me, but I know you, Y/N, very well and… I wanted to check you were okay.” 

You nodded, crossing your arms and biting your lip as you mulled over the words he had spoken since his arrival, “It’s okay… I just- haven’t heard his name outside of my own head in a while.” 

“Erik?” 

You smiled, your heart blooming at his real name, the name you had known him by, “Yes… I’m assuming you know about us; I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve witnessed one of our messes for yourself,” He had smiled at that, his teeth glinting as he chuffed in amusement, though you could only stare at Logan, building the courage to ask what you desperately wanted to know, “When, you know, you were sent here… was Erik there?” 

“Yes.” Logan nodded. 

“Was I?” 

Logan nodded once again, though opted to do so silently this time. 

“What did he tell you about us?” 

Logan laughed properly then, a smile finally breaking across his face, “He told me not to meddle, that your situation is especially… sensitive, at this point.” He scratched a hand across his chin, his expression filled with nothing but pure mirth as he spoke, “Which I can see, seeing as though he’s locked one hundred feet underground and you’re married.” He finished that with a pointed look at your ring finger. 

You nodded, that you found yourself unable to match his amusement, unsure of exactly what it was he found funny, “I haven’t seen him in almost ten years.” You shrugged, “When I try to think about it, I don’t even know what he looks like anymore.” 

“But you still think about him?” 

You sighed, lowering your gaze to pick at the loose threads upon your old bed sheets; you had always been reluctant to get rid of them, the memories that they held with Erik remained too precious. Slowly and timidly, you spoke, “Every day.” 

Logan could only nod, an exhale sounding from his nose, “Well, if I can trust anything from my time knowing you; it’s your ability to give that man hell.” 

So, the following day; with an overly-energised, overly-excited teenage mutant in tow; Hank, Charles, and Logan had embarked en route for the Pentagon.

“Stay safe.” Adam had spoken as he leaned against the entrance to the house, having opted to stay behind; claiming that the house needed to be watched despite Logan being the first visitor in years. You had simply smiled at him, waving goodbye before turning towards the car; you didn’t miss the way the door had immediately slammed, Adam having chosen to waste no time in ensuring your safe departure. He had been quiet since Logan’s arrival, especially since the mention of Erik’s name and your obvious upset in response. 

You feared that despite his promise to protect the house, he would not be there upon your return. 

“I can’t believe you even married that guy.” Logan had mumbled, chuckling to himself and shaking his head as he slid into the car’s driver's seat; you could only manage a meager glare- your doubt regarding Adam had been clear even to yourself. 

Whilst the others performed the monumental task of attempting to free Erik; you had been tasked with organising the transport from the Pentagon and away, far away. You knew that Charles had orchestrated this purposefully, giving you the chance to see Erik as little as possible if necessary. You had accepted without a fight, you feared that if faced with Erik in a dire situation; you would act impulsively, irrationally. You feared that if faced with Erik, you would be able to do nothing but throw yourself into his arms. 

“Not appropriate.” You had mumbled to yourself at the thought, tapping a hand against the car’s wheel; dark aviators high upon your nose as you awaited. Your other hand hung from the drivers-side window, a dwindling cigarette balancing lazily between your fingers; it had been a nasty habit you had picked up in your adulthood, largely to Adam’s chagrin who had banned you from doing so indoors. You began to recognise that the stress of marriage had aged you significantly; the existence of service had overtaken your life in a way you hadn’t predicted. 

Just as you had begun to dwell upon your own disappointing life decisions; a loud bustle of noise exploded from the doors exiting the building’s kitchen; you only had a second to rescue your cigarette and balance it between your teeth before the group rushed to the car. Peter immediately sped ahead and claimed the passenger seat, grinning at you cheekily as he slid beside you; though this was quickly diminished when Logan slammed the car door back open, promptly gathering the teenager by the lapels of his jacket and ejecting him from the seat. You could only guffaw as he promptly plucked the cigarette from between your teeth, taking a hasty drag as the rest of the group piled into the back. 

You refused to glance at the rear mirror.

“Seriously Y/N?” Charles huffed exasperatedly from what you could assume was the seat directly behind you, the rustling of his jacket prevalent as he attempted to get comfortable in the tight squeeze of seats, “This may be a getaway car but it doesn’t mean you can abuse it to your will with your smoking.” 

You gritted your teeth, slamming your foot upon the pedal and pulling out onto the road; en route to the airport. Erik’s presence behind you plagued your mind, causing your fingers to tighten upon the wheel and your toes to curl within your shoes, every hair upon your neck stood ramrock straight as you waited, yearning for him to acknowledge you. 

This was what you had dreamed of, every night for years, and now you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. 

A gleam caught your eyes as you drove, suddenly all too aware of your left hand rested on the steering wheel. Your wedding ring still adorned upon your finger, glistening obnoxiously in the afternoon sun. Risking a glance, you rose your eyes to the rearview mirror- only to immediately flick your eyes back to the road before you. 

There, in the middle seat, sat Erik- his cheeks sunken, hollow; the effects of years in confinement were prevalent in his every feature. His skin was pale, almost ghastly; his haircut was shaggy, uncaring. But what shocked you the most, what made you pull your eyes away from the man you loved so suddenly- was the way his eyes, those hauntingly blue eyes, stared straight at you, straight at the ring upon your finger. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from squeaking in response, the taste of blood plaguing your mouth as you willed yourself to focus on the road, focus on the mission at hand. 

You knew that Logan had witnessed every moment of that encounter, his dark eyes sunk into the side of your face as you determinedly stared forward, refusing to acknowledge any of the people around you. Alongside the stench of smoke, the air in the car was thick with tension- the aura of unspoken words choking every passenger. Even Peter, the usual chatterbox and the one who had spoken your ears off the entire way to the Pentagon had opted to stay silent; instead staring out of the window, his lips twisted in his own display of tension. 

As you drove in silence, you became all too aware of Erik’s presence; you found yourself pinpointing his specific breaths, the crinkle of his prisoner-assigned uniform, the shuffle of his legs against the side of your seat, the nervous tap of his finger against his knuckles. 

It was a miracle you managed to reach the airport. 

Upon saying goodbye to Peter, you determinedly pushed past the front-row seats of the private jet, opting to sit at the very rear of the plane alongside Logan, of which had simply raised an eyebrow and sighed as you lowered yourself before him, “You two are more pathetic than I expected.” He exhibited an air of nonchalance as he lit his cigar, despite the plane now very much being in the sky, and propped open a newspaper upon his lap- though it was prevalent that he found delight in watching the entire situation unfold. 

You raised your eyebrows, shrugging your shoulders stubbornly and sliding back against the base of the chair, “There’s no ‘us two’,” To which you complimented with the use of air quotes, “I am married, Logan.” 

Logan could only laugh at that, shaking his head, a habit he seemed to have picked up in his exasperation at what was unfolding before him, “You do realise I’m from the future right?” 

Scowling, you crossed your arms and opted to sulk at the back of the plane; still determinedly refusing to look Erik’s way- who was now engaging in a heated argument with Charles.

“Do I at least age well?” 

“Of course,” Logan smirked, holding his cigar up in a toast; though he was quickly interrupted by the creaking of metal as the foundations of the plane shook; Erik. Logan jumped forward and immediately threw the two of you to the ground- acting as a human shield as the plane began to tip sideways; Erik’s passion overtaking all rational thought as plates and glassware shattered beside you. 

“You abandoned us all.” He spoke with finality, Charles lay splayed across multiple seats, his hair a tangled mess as he gaped at Erik. You could only pull yourself back into your seat as Charles left for the cockpit, both you and Logan gasping at each other as you attempted to regain your stolen breath.

“So,” Logan grunted, fetching a new cigar and lighting it, “You were always an asshole then.” 

You could only scoff as Erik turned, facing you for the first time since boarding the plane; you noted the way his eyes landed upon anything, anywhere but you. 

“I bet we’re best buds in the future,” Erik smirked sardonically, his voice rough with the sudden severity of his outburst. 

Logan hummed, puffing on his cigar before offering you a puff, to which you politely declined, “Not like me and your old friend Y/N here are.” 

At the mention of your name, his hands spasmed at his sides; his fingers convulsing in a bodily reaction at the mere recognition of your existence. You would have felt excitement, love; if it weren’t for the way his eyes told a different story- cold and piercing as they landed upon you, his cheekbones twitching as he allowed himself a second of eye contact before he abruptly turned, returning to his seat across the plane. 

“Jesus,” Logan mumbled to himself, reclining in his seat and widening his eyes at you; you could only nod. Jesus.

With Erik and Charles opting to keep to themselves, the rest of the journey went swimmingly- immediately upon landing you wasted no time in departing from the suffocating air of the cabin; luxuriating in the deep breaths of fresh, evening air that greeted you. 

“We need to find somewhere to rest.” Charles spoke from behind you, “The drive to the next spot is too long and we’re all exhausted.” He glared pointedly at Erik then, who simply sighed; as you allowed yourself a glance at him, it was prevalent that he too was plagued by fatigue. His cheeks were more sunken than before, his eyes drooping as he visibly struggled to hold himself up. You yearned to reach out, place a hand on his spine and simply hold him, aid him as he wrestled with the weight of the world upon his back. But then, as his eyes turned towards yours, the weight of the wedding ring upon your finger prevailed once again; you could only turn away. 

Hank managed to find a group of last minute rooms at a nearby motel, though as he returned to the reception's waiting area, keys in hand, his nerves were ever-prevalent. “I only managed to get three rooms; two have two beds and another has one, I was thinking-” 

“I’m taking the solo room,” Logan ordered, snatching the key from Hank’s hand and sauntering down the hallway, though not without sending a wink over his shoulder at you. Bastard. 

“Oh-” Hank froze, the other keys dangling from his fingers- you could only watch as he winced, practically praying for you to forgive him with his eyes, “Charles, I doubt it would be safe for you to be with Erik, so I guess…” 

You could only sigh, electing every ounce of confidence you could embody before standing, cutting Hank off once again before retrieving a key from his hand, without turning you spoke, “Well, come on then, Erik.” 

You felt his presence behind you, each of you electing to say nothing as you unlocked the haggard wooden door; its hinges creaking as you pushed open the door. Before you stood two double beds, an only-just-comfortable distance between the two. Nodding to yourself, you entered the room, your fingers twirling the keys nervously as you surveyed the room; you felt the air thicken as the door slammed behind you- you felt like prey finally being cornered by the predator. 

Erik cleared his throat behind you, the sound thick and grating, “I’ll take the bed beside the door; would you like to use the bathroom first?” 

You turned towards him, shocked by his kindness; he could only stare back at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and exhaustion tinting his features. “I- Sure.” You could only croak, opting to briskly enter the bathroom; afraid of irrationality taking over your lovesick mind. Reaching behind the shower’s curtain, you turned on the water before stripping off your clothes, the sound of your ring clattering against the sink as you placed it down caused you to flinch, knowing that Erik would be all too aware of your every move from the other side of the door. 

You took your time in the shower, breathing in the warm steam and collecting yourself after the events of the day, collecting yourself in preparation for the events of the night that was to come. You could do this, even if it meant a sleepless night whilst Erik lay only feet away; whilst the object of all of your nightmares lay only feet away. It reminded you of a night, a night a long time ago; in a motel room just like the one you were in, his skin against yours; his breath hot against the base of your throat as he had slowly stripped you of your clothes, as he had kissed every inch of you. It reminded you of his pants as he pushed into you, his groans as he buried his sweat-coated forehead into the skin of your shoulder, biting and licking and sucking there as you became one. The way that he had moaned his love for you into the skin there, your responsive moans loud and uncaring as you had clawed at the skin of his back, gripped at the hair upon the base of his head- 

Stop; you shut off the hot water, stumbling from the shower as you panted, your cheeks and chest red with warmth as you desperately attempted to remove the memory from your mind. Gripping the porcelain of the sink, you eyed your pathetic reflection; willing, begging, yourself to let this go, let your silly daydreams go. This was reality, your reality. Getting through the night was the only necessity you needed to accomplish, then you could avoid Erik and promptly never see him again. 

You could go back to your husband, back to your life. 

Undeniably however, you couldn’t ignore the way Erik made you feel, the way his mere presence made you feel. Adam’s influence upon you paled entirely in comparison, your obligation to return to him simply one of duty, one to appease your family, one to live the ‘perfect’ life- be the perfect wife. But you craved more, you craved better; for years you had chased and yearned for the way Erik’s slightest touch had made you feel- the way that his love encompassed every molecule of your being; the way that he had branded you for life, rendered unable to ever feel the way you had felt with him again. Your thoughts of Erik made you all too aware of how long you had spent in the bathroom.

How long you had spent, very obviously, avoiding him. 

You emerged from the bathroom in nothing but the oversized shirt you had packed hastily to sleep in; swiping it from the bed due to the short notice you had received in regards to this trip. You felt bare, naked suddenly as you left the bathroom to Erik’s piercing gaze. He sat, fully clothed, lounging against the headrest; allowing a pen to swirl around his fingers, dancing from pointer to thumb as his wrist spun. Entrapped, you could only stand there and stare; stare at the beauty of his powers, at the beauty of him. 

“It feels good,” He spoke slowly, carefully, allowing the pen to drop onto the sheets beside him, “To use my powers again; to feel metal.” 

You nodded, smiling politely, unsure of exactly what to say in response. You opted to stay silent, allowing yourself to walk past him and into your own bed, the crinkle of the duvet loud in the silent room, loud within the silence that was swelling between you. 

“You aren’t wearing it,” Erik spoke suddenly, his voice slicing through the silence; to your shock. Once you recovered, you simply crooked an eyebrow at him, to which he spoke; swallowing his words audibly, “Your ring.” 

“Oh,” You shook your head, staring down at your empty finger, remembering that you had placed it on the sink, “I usually-” 

“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.” 

His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?” 

Slowly, at the pit of his lungs, he formed a laugh; his head shaking as his fingers trembled once again, “You think so lowly of me, Darling.” 

“You left me!” You were yelling now, rising from the tangled bed sheets as your chest heaved with anger, heaved with the heartbreak and sadness that had plagued you for the consequent years following his departure, “You left me.” 

“I gave you a choice, Y/N. You chose Charles, you were more than welcome to come with me.” 

You shook your head, scoffing, “Well… if I had gone with you; I would be dead by now.” Your tone held a sense of finality, as supported by your return to the bed as you promptly turned your back to him, curling up under the duvet and refusing to face his reaction to your words. His response followed in the slam of the bathroom door as he promptly left the room; leaving behind the stale air of your own regret. 

It felt like hours as you waited, wondered; hoped for him to come back. Hoped for the two of you to forget the words that had been said, to sleep comfortably in your separate beds and complete this mission as peacefully as possible; to go your separate ways and live your separate lives once again. 

In the depths of these daunting thoughts, you fell asleep; the exhaustion of the day’s tensions taking hold as your eyes slipped closed. You woke, hours later, to the moon’s rays spanning throughout the room; a ghostly glow hanging in the air as you rubbed at your eyes, glancing to your side, Erik was fast asleep; his sharp edges and soft hair illuminated in the scant light- you allowed yourself a moment, just that moment, to take him in. Drink in the features you hadn’t faced in almost a decade, the features you longed to reach out towards; to trail a finger down his jaw or scratch a nail upon his hair. His hair was wavy, a slightly damp smell filtered throughout the room told you that he too had taken the opportunity to shower. 

The thought of his broad shoulders and lean back illuminated by the spray of hot water did nothing to help the swarm of doubt swirling within your gut. Shaking your head, you reached into the bag beside your bed; fetching the box of cigarettes stashed within one of the inner pockets. 

Then, barefoot and in just a shirt, you shouldered open the room’s door, balancing a cigarette upon your lip as you did so before promptly lighting it, traversing the motel’s corridors silently before reaching the fire escape. Hoisting yourself upwards, you climbed up the ladders before finally reaching the building’s roof. The night was clear, quiet; the only sounds emerging from the distant highway and subsequent traffic- you listened out for any signs of disruption as you lowered yourself to the roof, allowing your legs to dangle from the side of the building. 

The silence of the night and the goosebumps prickling at your bare arms allowed the tears to emerge; it allowed them to pour down your cheeks, for snot to bubble at your nose and for your lips to tremble with unkempt sobs. You allowed for your hurt to take hold, for your hurt at Erik’s words and actions and simple presence to take hold. But then you allowed your hurt towards yourself to unfold; for allowing yourself to end up here, in this situation- living this life that you had manufactured for yourself. 

You couldn’t go back to that motel room, but most notably you couldn’t go back home. You couldn’t bear it anymore; the stresses of being within that barron manor were becoming too much to bear. If you couldn’t be with Erik, then you would rather be alone; somewhere far away, far away from here. You stewed upon this thought for a long time, as you lit your second, third and fourth cigarettes; it prevailed. 

Just as your fourth cigarette began to dwindle, the slam of a door sounded below you before hasty, alert footsteps lined the hallway. You rose, walking back towards the highest entrance of the fire exit before looking down; listening as the hurried steps continued, haggard breaths accompanying it. Opting to investigate, you lowered yourself onto the platform below before descending the stairs; entering the residential hallway of the hotel. There, at the end of the corridor stood Erik, the obvious source of the worried footsteps as his chest heaved; he was turning in place, visibly searching for something as he rushed down the hallway. 

“What-” You mumbled, slowly walking towards him as he had not yet spotted you. Finally, you decided to catch his attention; concerned as to whether there was some form of danger, “Erik?” You called, a hand shielding your eyes as you peered down the dark hallway. You watched as he froze at the sound of your words, his head snapping towards you as he drank in your presence, your appearance. 

“What the fuck-” He breathed, immediately shaking off his shock and advancing towards you, practically running as he reached you. Entirely unannounced, he swept you up into his arms; shaking as he lowered his head to your shoulder, practically breathing you in as he tightened his hold by the second. 

“Erik, what-” 

“What is your problem?” He pulled back almost as soon as it had begun, his breathing staggered as a blush covered his cheeks; he wore only the black tank top and sweatpants he had been asleep in, his hair a mess upon his head; as if he had just jumped from his bed, “I woke up and- and you were gone, your bed sheets were practically stale with how long you’ve been gone I-” 

“I’m fine.” You assured, catching his hands between your own as an attempt to calm him down; the worry he had been feeling now prevalent within the staggering of his chest and the blush at his cheeks, “I just went to have a smoke I- let’s get you back to the room.”

He nodded, his glassy eyes immediately beginning to droop as he allowed you to use your grasp on his hand to pull him down the hallway. Upon depositing him into his own bed, as you left to enter your own, a tight grip latched upon your wrist; you turned, only to be met with those blue eyes swarming with desperation, “Stay?”

You sighed, nodding reluctantly before crawling in beside him; allowing him to drape an arm over your waist, allowing him to rest his head upon yours. Before your departure, before the decision would be set; you could allow yourself this one thing, this one night of unplagued sleep as his comfort would ward away the nightmares that tended to tinge your nights. 

But, before you could fall asleep; Erik’s voice rumbled above you, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You could only shrug, pressing your nose to his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, “Me too, Erik.” 

He moved backwards then, settling so that his face lay directly before yours; the tip of his nose rubbing against yours with each second breath. It seemed that he could only muster a whisper as he continued to speak, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His eyes grew wet as he spoke, his head shaking slightly as he smiled sadly. 

“Erik.” You whispered, your voice soft with contempt as you raised a hand to his cheek; brushing away the tears that had begun to fall there. Feeling him swallow against your wrist, you could only watch as his eyes flickered downwards, just as your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. Before you could register, he had moved; his lips pressed to yours as your cheeks grew wet with his steadily falling tears. Your mind allowed nothing else but to kiss back, to shift your leg upwards and to caress his cheek with your thumb. He kissed you earnestly, slowly; as if approaching a terrified fawn, testing the waters as to what you would allow him. You could practically taste the desperation perspiring his tongue, as you assumed he could yours. You would take anything, trade any parts of your wretched souls if it meant that you could feel this forever; feel the warmth of his tongue sliding against yours for every waking moment that remained. 

Erik pulled back then, only to lower himself; his mouth hot and needy against your throat, his hands trailing patterns against the skin of your stomach; becoming exposed as your shirt had rode upwards. His ministrations rendered you only able to lay there and pant; to bask in the feeling of being needed, wanted. Truly, ferociously. 

As he began to paint a trail of kisses down his stomach, something changed; something shifted in his demeanour. His hands, beginning to pull your thighs upward, were shaking and whilst his lips were forming kisses, they were forming words too. As you raised yourself to rest against your elbows, you finally heard the words forming within his mouth, “Please don’t go back to him.” He was whispering, pairing the almost unspoken words with a gentle kiss to the nearest area of skin; he was crying again, his eyes glistening with fresh, unshed tears as he burrowed his face into your skin. It seemed as if he was afraid to let you go, practically burrowing himself into your being, with the hopes that you would stay. 

“Erik, Erik wait-” You spoke urgently, lowering your hand to his chin before pushing him away; he stared up at you through his glassy eyes; his hair ruffled and cheeks rosy. Confusion graced his features at first, though he soon registered the concern in your eyes and realisation visibly dawned upon him. 

He removed himself from you then, moving to sit at the end of the bed; the duvet splayed around his waist as he sat with his legs crossed. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, wiping at his mouth and running a finger over his teary eyes, “I’m sorry Y/N, I- it’s not my place to tell you what to do.” 

Instantly, you crawled towards him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and settling yourself into the space between his legs; you felt his cheeks crinkle as you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, but you could still sense his confusion, his doubt. “I knew I would be leaving him the moment Logan mentioned your name, whether you were coming with me or not.” You stroked his hair as you spoke, caressing your fingers through the thin tendrils of oaky brown hair that adorned your lover's head. Erik grinned then; his teeth shining as he practically mooned up at you, he kissed you again then; pulling you in and deeper into his lap. 

Before you could push him onto his back, before you could lower yourself upon him and mobilise the groans that would fall from his mouth; he abruptly straightened up, untwining his hand from beneath your shirt and raising it in the air- your wedding ring flew towards the two of you, hanging in the air before Erik made a flicking motion with his fingers; you could only gape as the ring flew through the open window and into the darkness of the night. 

“Erik!” You squealed, hitting at his chest as he laughed loudly, unabashedly. Despite being secretly pleased, you couldn’t allow him to know that. “That was expensive!” 

“I can find you better,” Erik grumbled against your chest, burrowing his head into your shirt and inhaling unashamedly, “That one wasn’t you anyway, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that ghastly thing on your finger.” 

The only response you could have mustered in that moment was to shove him back against the bed; silencing him with the warmth of your own mouth.

#this goes out to the 3 magneto fans that exist #magneto x reader #erik lehnsherr #x men #days of future past #michael fassbender #magneto #erik lehnsherr x y/n #erik lehnsherr x you #marvel #writing x men fic is so funny cause these people old af....LOL #erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lensherr x reader #erik lensherr

[chogiwow]

member: professor! jake x uni student, gn!reader

warnings: slight age gap bw jake and reader, hinted suggestive themes

wc: 0.7k+

a/n: one word: hands. i love hands :'>

the sleeves of jake's shirt are folded right up to his elbows, your eyes finding it following its movement.

you were barely paying attention to what your friend was saying, quite blatantly staring at your professor, who stood a ways apart, leaning over a book that another girl was brandishing under his nose and pushing his wire framed glasses up his nose in concentration; no doubt she was smitten by the hot professor and you wouldn't blame her for it.

taking the pen from his student, he starts writing something down on the page and you're more than aware of the veins in his hands that stand out. lately that has been the only thing that you've been raptured about, especially since jake has almost never buttoned up his sleeves entirely, choosing to roll them up till his elbow.

it gives you a nice sight of his veiny hands and his attractive fingers, holding a chalk or marker or flipping a page of a book, and it's very attractive.

jake himself is attractive for that matter. you've almost never seen him in a shirt that is anything but white in colour, black pants, polished shoes and neatly cut brown hair. his choice of the material of his clothes though...interesting.

you hold this to the account of the singular time you had seen some of your batchmates pleading with him to join a game of basketball. while him on the court itself, dribbling a ball while unbuttoning yet another button had been quite a sight to behold, you don't think it was anywhere close to what your eyes had feasted upon the very next period.

his shirt, obviously moist with sweat due to his previous endeavours, had somewhat of a sheer quality to it which made it almost impossible for you to look away from his broad shoulders when the cloth insisted on sticking to his naked back and he'd have to ever so often shake the front of his shirt because he was too hot.

you hum absentmindedly at something your friend says, eyes still trained on the professor you've spent too many weeks fantasizing about when the man in question looks up and catches your eyes.

you somehow don't feel the need to look away, holding his gaze and responding to his smile with one of your own tight lipped one. eventually he has to attend to the student who looked like she was stalling him at this point and you chuckle at the sight. this catches his attention and he spares you a glance for a split second, slightly raising his eyebrow before getting engaged yet again.

he talks to his student patiently, answering her questions and indulging in something she says because you see him laugh and scratch his head, bashfully pushing up his glasses even though he didn't need to, as if he were embarrassed of something and was merely trying to keep his hands occupied.

you keep looking at them even though jake no longer has his attention on you – well, not physically no, but mentally he's wondering about your amusement – and it seems like your patience was finally paying off.

jake's little questionnaire ends and he finally looks up at you. your friend has long abandoned trying to engage you in her conversation, taking to scrolling through her phone in listless amusement and this lets you direct your undivided attention to your professor.

he walks over to where you were, slowly and purposefully, smiling and nodding at a few students who greeted him. an apprehensive excitement bubbles in your stomach, your fingers twitching as he approaches you and your oblivious friend.

almost as if he were teasing you, jake buried one hand in his pocket, holding the books in the other, his stride never ceasing to be any less alluring than his usual charismatic aura, only heightening in the way it almost turned heads his way.

it's a split second of contact you have, a whiff of a scent you don't recognise, nor having time to register given that it only lingers for less than a second and the sensuous way his shirt grazes your arm like a playful touch. it doesn't even last that long, this moment, but it does remain in your mind for a long time.

you're almost certain you hear him chuckle. you wouldn't know, you didn't turn back. and you also didn't know that jake had to turn right back after you left, for he had taken a detour just to walk past you.

#let's gaurrrrr :D #enhypen x reader #jake enhypen #jake enhypen imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake imagines #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun imagines #i am such a sucker for hands :'>

[ultrone]

Can I request a baby blurb about Spider!Lottie x Black Cat!Nat x reader who’s ordinary? I saw a LottieNat spider-woman au on TikTok and started thinking a lil bit about it. Reader has no clue her gfs are heroes works for the school newspaper and finds out somehow.

★🕸️🐈‍⬛ — 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗲 𝘅 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗰𝗮𝘁 𝗻𝗮𝘁 𝘅 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

n/a. i know u asked for a baby blurb but by the time i finished writting this i realized that it was too long, i hope u don’t mind 😭 also ty for requesting this, i love marvel and dc but i currently only write for yjs so it felt like two birds one stone 😼🫶🏼

cw. 1.9k

after receiving a low grade on your most recent english literature essay, you faced the risk of failing the class if your grades didn't improve significantly. fortunately, your english professor, who also supervised the university’s newspaper, was in need of additional contributors and offered extra points if you joined. without hesitation, you agreed. although you weren't particularly passionate about journalism, you found it intriguing enough.

however, a few weeks ago, everything changed. an announcement was made regarding a contest, exclusively open to the twenty students involved with the newspaper. only one student would emerge as the winner, with their story featured on the front page—a prestigious honour typically reserved for seniors or professors. additionally, the winning story would be published in the state newspaper, which would undoubtedly enhance your linkedin profile, or so you thought. but what truly excited you was the ultimate reward: exemption from all remaining english literature exams for the semester, ensuring a perfect a+ as the final grade. this meant you could forego the rest of the english lit classes, and it became your primary goal—to craft the best story and secure victory in the contest.

recently, it was discovered that the two superheroes of the moment were, in fact, students at wiskayok university. how the media obtained this information remained a mystery, but its authenticity had been confirmed. you knew that if you were able to expose the identities of these heroes, it would cause a frenzy and undoubtedly lead to your victory. was it ethical to reveal their identities? maybe not. did you want to spend your summer retaking english class? absolutely not. with that in mind, you channelled all your determination and energy into this story.

as the days passed, your obsession with this personal project grew stronger. you had to admit that ever since you were little, you secretly loved superheroes. so, even though your main goal was to win the contest, you also found genuine interest in it. staying late at school, hiding between the bleachers or on the rooftops, became a routine as you searched for any peculiar signs. you even managed to swipe the absences list from the principal's office and kept track of the students with the highest number of absences, considering them as your prime suspects.

your girlfriends, nat and lottie, tried to convince you to stop this endeavour multiple times, insisting it was dumb and a waste of time—especially since it left you with little free time for them. nonetheless, you remained stubborn as ever, even when lottie offered to get you a tutor who could help you over the summer.

it was a tuesday afternoon after class. you dropped off your girlfriends at the field for their soccer practice, promising them that you would go straight home and wait for movie night, something you hadn't done in a while. little did they know, instead of keeping that promise, you had arranged to meet up with two friends. you had paid them beforehand to stage a scene on the street: one pretending to be a burglar, and the other acting as the victim. the plan worked, and now you found yourself hiding inside an empty trash container, straining your ears to catch snippets of distant voices. carefully, you lifted the lid a few centimetres, giving yourself a limited view of spider-woman and black cat as they removed their suits and changed into their regular clothes, which they had stashed in a backpack. unfortunately, your line of sight only reached up to their hips, as lifting the lid any further would risk exposing yourself to their gaze.

that was until a putrid smell reached your nostrils, prompting you to discreetly turn on your phone's flashlight. as the light revealed a dead rat in the corner, you couldn't help but gag, dropping the lid with a loud thud.

"fuck," you muttered, covering your mouth and nose, attempting to stay quiet, praying they hadn't heard you. but it was too late; barely a second later, the lid was forcefully lifted, and the intense daylight flooded your vision, momentarily blinding you.

you were scared shitless, fully prepared to face none other than spider-woman and black cat, and boy, were you fucked. you didn't even bother thinking about making a run for it, already envisioning the worst possible outcomes.

"babe?" you heard, the surprise evident in the familiar voice, pulling you back to reality. in an instant, you opened your eyes and found lottie standing right in front of you. perplexed, you glanced beside her, catching sight of nat, whose arm was lifting the lid.

you rose to your feet, surveying the area, only to discover that the superheroes had vanished. "what are you doing here? you said you were heading straight home," nat questioned, furrowing her eyebrows.

you were about to reply, stumbling over your words as you tried to come up with an excuse when something caught your eye. it was the backpack lottie was carrying—the same one spider-woman and black cat had used to retrieve their clothes just moments ago. shock washed over you, and the realization hit you like a bucket of cold water.

you stared at the backpack in disbelief, still trying to wrap your head around the entire situation. it all made sense now. their sudden disappearances, getting late to almost every single date, the frequent class absences, the mysterious phone calls. you knew they were up to something, but sure as hell you never thought it would be this. they weren’t even on your suspect list.

lottie and nat slowly shifted their gaze toward each other, guilt and embarrassment written all over their faces. it was clear that neither of them had expected you to stumble upon them like this. "we can explain," lottie finally spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper.

"why didn't you tell me?" you inquired, furrowing your brows as you patiently waited for an explanation.

nat shifted nervously from one foot to the other before finally taking a deep breath and replying, "we wanted to, but… we didn’t know how."

lottie nodded in agreement. "we didn't want to put you in danger, y/n, and we also didn't want you to worry," she added.

she began to explain further about her and nat's secret side gig. "we started doing this not long after meeting each other," she said, her voice laced with guilt.

nat stepped closer to you, her gaze apologetic yet determined at the same time. "and we know that keeping this from you wasn’t fair, but we thought it was the best thing for our relationship."

you felt a wave of emotions surge through your body: anger, confusion, worry. part of you wanted to yell at them for lying and keeping secrets from you, while another part reminded yourself that they were only trying to protect you. but if something bad happened to them or even worse—if they died while doing this—you didn't know how you would cope with the guilt.

lottie seemed to sense your distress and quickly stepped forward, her face full of determination. “hey, everything’s gonna be alright,” she said with a gentle smile, taking your hand in hers and soothingly stroking it with her thumb. “i promise.”

you sighed, tears welling up in your eyes. "i just want you both to be safe. i don't wanna lose you," you said, looking at them.

"but you won't," lottie reassured you. "we know how to take care of ourselves," she said.

"yeah, don't worry about us, babe," nat chimed in. "lotts' spidey senses are top-notch, and i have killer claws. see?" she showed her claws off with a mischievous grin, snarling playfully as she tried to make you laugh.

“dumbass," you said with a smile, nudging her shoulder. nat retracted her claws and used her thumb to wipe away your tears. "seriously though, don't worry. we'll be fine. and our top priority will always be to protect you and make sure you’re okay. we love you, y/n, a lot." she moved her hand to your cheek, softly stroking it.

"i love you too," you replied sincerely, hugging both of them tightly. they kissed your head simultaneously as lottie rubbed your back and nat stroked your hair. "but if you ever hide something like this from me again, i swear i'll kill you," you warned them as you playfully tugged their ears simultaneously, making them complain.

"okay, okay, we get it!" nat cried out as you finally let them go.

“owie," lottie said, rubbing her ear with a pained expression.

"you two act all tough in those suits but can't handle a little ear tug," you teased them.

before you could even laugh, one of them lifted you up and carried you away in her arms.

"holy fuck!" you yelled out in fear. "get me the fuck down!"

you tightly held onto lottie's body, closing your eyes shut as she held you securely in her arms. she had put her mask back on and was swinging between buildings with her spider webs. nat was right behind, using her claws and speed to leap from building to building, quickly catching up.

you could feel the wind rushing by your face as you sped through the afternoon sky, the scenery below becoming a blur. just as you were starting to get used to the exhilarating feeling, lottie gently landed on the ground, bringing you to your destination. opening your eyes, you realized you were on your room's balcony.

"what are we doing here? aren't you two going back to practice?" you asked.

"the last thing i wanna do after dealing with some burglar jerk is going back to school and putting up with taissa's annoying-ass team captain attitude," nat replied wearily, entering your room and tossing her backpack on the floor before flopping face-down onto your bed.

"yeah," lottie agreed. "and we thought this would be a perfect time to start movie night," she said as she hopped onto the bed beside nat and patted the spot in the middle, looking at you.

"fine… but we're gonna have a serious conversation about this later," you warned them. nat just hummed dismissively in response. "and you better start installing life360 on your phones," you commanded.

nat and lottie exchanged glances and made complaining faces at each other. "see? this is why i didn't want to tell her," nat muttered, her voice muffled by the pillows as she plopped her face back down.

“if you don’t do it i swear to god i’ll—” you started to say, but your words were cut off as lottie shot a spiderweb toward your mouth, silencing you. you began to mumble angrily, trying to remove it, which caught nat's curious gaze. she burst into laughter at the sight, and lottie couldn't help but join in. just as you managed to take off the spiderweb and were about to scold them, lottie shot another one, this time towards your body, pulling it swiftly and causing you to fly towards the bed, landing right between them.

as soon as you landed, they snuggled up to you and showered you with kisses all over your face, making you giggle and try to stop them with your hands.

"still mad at us?" lottie asked once they stopped.

“mmm, not if you let me pick today’s movie,” you negotiated.

"fair," nat said, grabbing the remote as the three of you snuggled together under the covers.

#𓏲 📂 ⋮ my works .ᐟ #lottie matthews #nat scatorccio #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie matthews x y/n #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x y/n #nat scatorccio x you #lottienat #lottienat x reader #lottienat x you #lottienat x y/n #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews drabble #nat scatorccio drabble #yellowjackets drabble #yellowjackets x y/n #yellowjackets x you

[tulipsforvin]

Hello, may I trouble you with one silly request? 👉👈 Moriarty brothers headcanon reaction on first meeting their future s/o when she's climbing over the fence in awkward fashion (wearing a dress and carrying a heavy parcel). Fem! s/o, or gn!, I don't really mind. Thank you, wishing you lots of fun and positivity!✨💖

This is like that one scene from Horimiya lolll I had tons of fun writing this. Thank you for the request, anon! Hope you have a marvellous day/night awaiting you.

Characters: Louis J. Moriarty, William J. Moriarty, Albert J. Moriarty.

Tags: Fluff, Very, very, very slight angst (At Albert's part), Headcannons, Moriarty The Patriot.

Format: Headcannons.

Note: Just a heads up - some are pre-timeskip and post-timeskip. Might cause confusion.

“Beyond The Fence„

Moriarty Brothers x GN!Reader

William J. Moriarty

(Pre-timeskip)

— He finds you while talking a stroll through the university during his lunch break, grasping feebly onto the wires of the fence as you make a horrible effort to climb over it.

— “Who would need actual hurdling equipment for aspiring athletes such as yourself when there is the university fence to conquer?”

— You would tell him that your brother was a student here and that he forgot his lunch box, that you were sneaking it in through the fence because the guard at the gates wasn't letting you in.

— “Allow me.” William says, amused as he holds out his hand for you to pass the cake onto before setting it down. He then scales the fence effortlessly, making it seem like an easy task before he helps you cross to the other side.

— He offers to hand it over to your brother in your stead.

— Playful banter that makes you giddy.

— “Professor Moriarty, are you plotting to snatch a slice of this cake?” “I assure you, my interests lie in far greater endeavours. Although your delectable confectioneries do seem tempting.”

“i suppose I'll have to keep an eye out, just in case it falls in the wrong hands.” “I must say, I'm quite offended. Are you perhaps implying that I am the wrong hands? I could offer you a wealth of knowledge and intellectual discourse and yet, you suspect me of cake thievery.” “I suspect you of great many things. Cake thievery is just one of the more delightful possibilities.”

— Literally how it goes for the remaining semester. The two of you meet everyday during lunch break under the guise of making William deliver your brother's lunchbox, when in reality, the two of you have begun to grow feelings far surpassing platonic ones and just want to spend more time with each other.

Albert J. Moriarty

(Post-timeskip)

— You, an avid botanist, absolutely obsessed with the nature of plant life, find yourself trying to claw your way up the fence and to the other side where a burying ground lies that you thought was abandoned since the gates to enter it was locked and that you found a really unique species of flora there. The parcel contains all the studies you have been researching for the past three years.

— Imagine the awkwardness that one must feel when you lock eyes with Albert, who thinks you're a creep trying to steal bones or bodies, gazes back at you with uncertainty.

— “I am afraid you won't be able to get your hands on any bones here. These graves are all empty, you see — with one for my younger brother who's body has yet to be found since his initial dissapearance and for me and the youngest to lie in when our time comes.”

— You feel guilty for trespassing onto private property and immediately start apologizing, head bowed as you make an attempt to frantically explain your reason of arrival.

— He seems even further intrigued when your focus lands on the empty graves, lush green grass and flowers emerging from the burial site. You begin to tell him about what the flowers that have grown on the grave where his younger brother, William, should supposedly be put to rest symbolise.

— “Moonflowers symbolise the awakening of a soul. A new beginning. I am sure that your younger brother has found a new start somewhere, perhaps in the afterlife but a new start nonetheless.” “..ah” is all he says before he begins to full on sob infront of you, a total stranger.

— From that day onwards, he finds solace in your company, tagging along on the journeys you go to for your research on plant life; falling asleep at the sound of your voice or gazing at you dreamily when you go on & on about your passions.

Louis J. Moriarty

(Post-timeskip)

— A huge festival was coming up. Thus, explaining the streets that are all bustling and noisy with human life trying to get past each other and squeezing in even from the smallest of gaps and crevices.

— You, a talented seamstress who has been commissioned to deliver a beautifully crafted dress find yourself in a dilemma; trying to think of a way to get past through these crowds and to your destination without issue.

— You decide that a fence, out of all things, would be the easiest way to reach your destination. And so you begin your attempts to climb over, the dress you're wearing making things only further difficult.

— “Excuse me, do you perhaps need help with the dress and the fence?” “Yes, please! Business has been bad lately and I just really need to deliver this so I can continue to be able to be able to pay rent for my boutique.”

— Will observe the dress in the parcel first to make sure you're not actually lying before nodding his head and agreeing to help you.

— Although he seems very focused on the task, such as the tasks assigned to the M16, he still can't help but help a person in need.

— “Your talent deserves recognition. As luck would have it, I have connections with influential individuals in society. I could help spread the word about your boutique and introduce you to clients.” [literally the government and a man (Read Mycroft) who serves directly under the Queen.]

— That's how it starts - the beginning of your romance. Louis helps you with your boutique and you, in exchange, deliver information that you hear from clients at your workshop regarding jobs that could help him in the M16.

#william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x y/n #william james moriarty x you #moriarty the patriot #x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #james moriarty #yuumori #albert james moriarty x you #albert james moriarty x y/n #albert james moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #x yn #x you #mtp #mtp william #mtp albert #mtp louis #louis james moriarty x y/n #louis james moriarty x you #louis james moriarty x reader #soft fluff #mtp fluff #slight angst #woo

[canaidliafail]

stay grounded pt.5

[part 6]

streamer abby x streamer reader 🌿

so I wanted to write all of Abbys visit to “reader” in one episode but this one is already 5k words and its getting stupid long so..I split it in two parts 🥹

CW: alcohol,weed and sexual endeavours if you will. not proof read, will check later tonight for any mistakes

Minors get outta here

“You’ll love it when I give it to you, leave you wanting more ,Is it everything and more than you were hoping for ?”

_____________

ever since Abby sent you a screenshot of her flight you were on edge. You promised to pick her up from the airport which just meant that you would be there to take her to the bus stop. She did of course tease you for your lack of driver's license and motivation to get it but she did appreciate the gesture nevertheless. However you were scared. You had a bad dating history, an even worse situationship one and you didn’t even want to get into all the people you had to reject during your trips or the other way around. point being, you found yourself ready to light a candle and apologize for all your sins so that karma wouldn't bite you in the ass. Abby, gave you no reason to have that fear. Sure you didn’t text as much as you thought you would but the times that you did she seemed excited and she would occasionally send you screenshots of places she would like to see or would ask for advice on what clothes to bring. Overall, she was nice and seemed to grow closer if her joking manner and her more sarcastic side coming to the light was anything to go by.

you thought of asking

“you smoke weed?” to be ready but decided against it. You always had it anyways and if she were up for a round you’d just roll one on the spot. Abby wasn’t your only issue. This semester at your university was a constant, painful reminder that you were about to graduate with the difficulty level of all the assignments and projects. Now, you were a great student in practice but a terrible one in attendance. It was hard balancing work, mental breakdowns and college.

On your third fitting on the model your college provided you were ready to tear the fabric to shreds and start going off on everyone. You could understand why designers had a reputation for having a nasty attitude but if said designers were having their models switched every week, thus needing different measurements everytime you wouldn’t blame them.

“For fucks sake Im working on a line 44, why cant they just stick to the same model”

“Well this isn’t our graduation project so they are more relaxed”

“well I'm not and they shouldn’t be either” you argued with one poor classmate who dared to calm you down, oblivious to your temper that was impossible to tame.

this was why you refused to have models. In any case, your daily disapproval of your school's teaching system was something that didn’t bother you to that big of an extent. You disliked the way you acted though. You were snarky, impatient and took offense easier than usual and you couldn’t exactly understand why,so one late evening after fighting with everyone that knows you and doesn’t , you sat down on your couch and tried to find which unhealed version of you was getting triggered and why. Half an hour later you gave up and went to make a toast. Your friend group had 5 solid people. June, your most faithful cheerleader to every stupid decision you ever took and the one who also helped you go through with it, Cassie, the most blunt one who brought you back to reality, Rick, She was too sweet and too in love with her slow burn romance of 3 years and last, Olga.

She rarely appeared due to studying in a different city but when you needed someone to figure you out, she was the only one who could get you out of your head.

Most people had a friend like that. Someone that you talked to the least, yet knew you the best and perhaps, had the most intimate and platonic bond to ever exist. So that night, was a cry for help and luckily, Olga was in town and on her way to your place. She came ready, with a bottle of vodka on one hand and a fresh bag of tobacco on the other.

“Im listening”

she said sitting with her legs crossed on the floor across from you. she was about to burn sage and make a tarot spread if need be

“Alright listen so nothing happened but, I'm scared. I feel…weird. See this is a person that I've admired for so long and it’s only hitting me now that I’m about to meet her and its…it's scary actually”

Olga sat through it all and listened to you ramble for hours and pace all over the living room until you exhausted yourself and finally sat back down on the floor and started rolling a cigarette. You were stressed and out of nowhere your eyes were burning and you were crying and Olga was silent through it all. She grabbed you a new rolling paper and passed it over since the previous one got crumpled from your tears.

It took you an hour to completely calm down and then, she finally began to talk

“Listen it’s understandable that you feel that way, She was after all someone you admired for a while and well, it's not like you don't fool around with others but she was always in your mind”

You nod feeling the weighty clawed hands of depression wrap around your throat threatening another crying session that you had to fight back

“And between us, the last time you took anyone seriously it didn't go so well”

“It really fucking didnt” you agreed and she nod. You finished rolling the blunt and took a few puffs

“Alright now that that’s out of the way let's talk reality. Abby will visit you in a week. She is almost in every one of your streams and sure she posts with other women which in my opinion are just her friends,but she also constantly mentions you in her own streams”

You tried to protest and counter argue every reasonable point she made but she sushed you right a way with a glare

“Which has to mean something. Now I know your favorite hobby is downgrading every positive trait you have but Ill have to stop you”

“I really want this to work”

“And it will. Just be yourself,relax and smoke another blunt if you have to but trust me. It will work. It has worked so far and well, what are the odds of that in the first place?”

You smiled. A small smile but enough to show her that her point was understood. You rested your back against the front of your couch and checked your phone. There was a message there from Abby and you let the warmth and excitement that you felt imprint in your mind as a way to soothe your nerves till her arrival.

____________

“Just landed. Waiting for the luggage” you read the message over and over again and then looked up at the gate and saw the people walk out and look around for whoever was waiting for them. You tried to bite down the stupid grin on your face and tried your best to school your features in an unbothered-laid back expression to no avail. You were practically bouncing off the walls and scratching the curtains like a cat.

Abby was here,in your country,in your city a few walls apart. Literally.

You were ashamed to admit that you had practiced different ways to greet her and would constantly switch the position you sat in, not sure what energy you were trying to show. You were man spreading, and then you would cross your legs, and then you would stand up and lean against the bar tables from the cafeteria.

“Get it together” You whispered to yourself and just locked and unlocked your phone pretending to be busy.

One moment you were looking at an old video of you and June attempting a stunt and the other you were looking back up at the gate and the woman of your dreams was actually there. Walking and looking at her phone and then around until she spotted you.

She smiled, wide with teeth and wrinkles at the edge of her eyes and you waved her over. You half ran half walked over to her side and unexpectedly-for you- she hugged you.

“Hey!”

She smelled like pine soap and there was a lingering scent of the outside cold on her jacket. You wrapped your arms around her and felt her weight, her muscles and tried to connect with the very real image that she was right in front of you. She was tall and broad, and fuck so damn gorgeous. You pulled away at the same time and you couldn’t hold back returning the equally big smile that she gave you as her eyes darted all over your frame and face

“Wow hi,this is-“

“Crazy right? Can’t believe I’m actually here”

“Yeah! So how was your flight?” This was comfortable. She was comforting and just,so much easier to talk to than you initially expected. Her voice was lower up close and she wasn’t someone who talked loudly. She was expressive and,and,and

So many things you couldn’t stop noticing and observing about her in pure admiration. You feared that seeing her up close would give you a change of heart and you were so off base because if it did one thing, it was to confirm that you absolutely had a crush on this woman. It was a 40 minute ride till your apartment with the bus and once you reached your destination she visibly seemed to rest her shoulders and lean against the wall taking off her boots and beanie. You hated how attractive she was while doing the most mundane things

“You got a nice place. Can’t believe I’m finally witnessing what's behind the cameras of Cottons studio”

“Hah! If I didn't know you any better I’d say you’re making fun of me”

“I’m absolutely not” she teased and you helped her with her luggage

“So,normally when I have a guest they sleep with me in my room but I didn't know what you were comfortable with so I prepared the couch for you to sleep in as well”

“Ah I don't mind. Thanks”

She said and you assumed she would take the couch but to your horror and relief she left her bags in your bedroom. Which meant you two would share the same bed for the two weeks of her stay.

“Ugh,cool so ok” you looked around nervous and then slammed your hands together in a hollow clap.

“Alright so, let me show you my place first” she walked close behind you as you showed her how everything worked which made it difficult to even walk properly.

I should have trained my walk or something.

You thought in misery as you stood in the corridor showing her your crafting room. She stepped in around you to look at the clothes on the mannequins. You could’ve sworn that there were stars in her eyes when she know the full knight armor that you proudly displayed.

“Fuck I saw this on twitter but Damn you outdid yourself. All these details and”

“Its rococo architecture”

“I noticed.You add details like that to every piece you make. Oh right you also made a white dress that I really wanted to see up close”

“Oh that!” You chirped excited and walked over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room to find the piece. It was from your first year and it was the first clean work you did. The sewing was straight and not a line out of place. You showed it to her and then sat on the thought. That was a fairly old post. How far did she…

“Yeah that one. Its even prettier up close. Sorry I don’t know much about fabrics and all that but from the little that I know this looks amazing”

You were fiddling with your fingers and let her admire all your pieces occasionally adding some commentary about the construction or the inspiration. She showed genuine interest in this and you didn't know how to deal with someone this nice.

“I could make you one if you want” She stared at you wide eyed with a grin and lowered brows “You’d do all of that” she said and placed a hand on the shoulder piece of the knight armor “For me?” You shrugged and walked out of the room to grab your measuring tape that was in the kitchen aisle for unknown reasons. You stopped in front of your workshop's entrance and tried to reach up and see how big the breastplate would be for starters.A soft chuckle escaped her and your eyes shot up to look at her.

“Yes? Abigail?”

She gave you a crooked smile and licked her teeth “You are really short” You would have choked on your spit if your throat wasn't so dry. Was this her way of hitting on you?

“I think your judgement isn’t trustworthy since you are just unreasonably tall. My measuring tape won’t fit the whole of you”

She reached up and rested her hands against the door frame and leaned a little closer to you. Close enough to spike up your heart rate to a dangerous pace.

“Is that not to your liking?”

And in this moment, You hated every girlish bone in your body for smacking her lightly in the sternum and laughing all the way through that embarrassing gesture.

What.was.that.

“You are insufferable” she smiled and pushed herself away. That would sum up any notable moments in your first day with Abby. You did talk a bit and made a quick and general schedule of what you could do while she was here all the while she kept glancing around at your room and you decor while you rested on your couch

“You have a lot of stuff”

“Oh yeah empty spaces freak me out”

She nodded in contemplation

“I like it. My apartment has like, a lot less stuff”

You leaned on your arm and smiled,lazy and pleased with the atmosphere

“Why? Afraid Alice will make a mess?”

“No I know how to keep my pets well trained”

Your cheeks flushed and you reached on your coffee tables drawer to pull out your tobacco and roll a cigarette cause you were getting heated up out of nowhere and you were about to share a bed

“O-oh of course. Then…?”

“I don’t know, I just never bothered I guess? I have a lot of plants though. You’ll see, but yeah I just don't know what decor to go far”

Your mind paused mid sentence. -you will see-

Was that an invite ? You smiled and Lit your cigarette sitting back on the couch in awe of how well the first night went

___________

That night. You simply did not sleep. Your plan seemed genius a few hours ago, but Abby was happily resting in your bed while you played Valhalla,the wrath of the Druids DLC for the second time fighting to stay awake.

Abby Anderson,was sleeping in your bed. You smiled every time you remembered that and then you were ready to cry thinking of the possibility that this would be just a friendship. You texted your friends that had been blowing up your group chat since yesterday.

She is sleeping in my bed right now

Cassie: YOU HOOKED UP ??? GET IT GIRL

No, she is JUST sleeping. I’m up. In my living room playing valhalla

Couldn’t sleep like at all

june: why the fuck didnt you sleep in the same bed?!?!?! Out of all times NOW you remember to have shame ??

THATS NOT

SHIT SHE IS UP EVERYONE QUIET

june: PUSSYYYYYYYU

You tossed your phone on the couch and looked up at Abby in all her morning freshly woken up glory. You gasped quietly at the sight of her unbraided long hair. she wore gray sweatpants and a sleeveless top that showed off her biceps and the sunlight licked the curves of her arms in the most delightful way

“Good morning” you croaked and tried to clear your throat and repeated the greeting more smoothly. she chuckled and sat next to you on the couch

“did you sleep at all?” you shook your head and paused the game

“sorry it got so interesting and then next thing I know birds are chirping” she shook her head and looked at the screen which gave you an opening to look at her

“Then please continue. Need to know who Im competing against for your attention”

you grinned and shook your head trying to ignore her move cause it was too early to handle this version of Abby.

“No, it's fine. Wanna get coffee? my treat”

“sure” she said and you grabbed your phone going to an app and browsing through the open cafes

“you want something for breakfast?”

she leaned against you and peaked at your phone looking through the stores. Your breathing slowed and you felt the hair on your arms raise at the contact that her chin made with your shoulder. You stayed still scared that if you moved she would have pulled away

“I wouldn’t be against that. What do you usually have?”

“W-well. Im european so, a cigarette with coffee”

she looked at you in shock and then broke down in laughter pulling away and getting up with you unconsciously leaning over the spot where she was seconds ago missing her touch already.

“Yeah I’ve seen that meme going around. So it really is a thing” you smiled at her

“mmmm you know me so well”

“Well I hope I do” she teased and went to the bathroom to fix herself up leaving you breathless and a nervous wreck. Did you miss something ? Because it seemed like she was heavily flirting with you and you only now realized how bold she could actually be.

_________

Rick: I Cant wait to meet herrrr <333333

June:I’m so happy you are having fun but if she doesn’t pass the vibe check I’m breaking her kneecaps

Relax! I promise she is really cool.

Olga: what time are we meeting up ?

11 at our usual spot. We will go in together

Abby was laying on your couch going through her phone waiting for you to tell her the plan for the night. She did touch on the fact that despite the influencer parties she was not familiar with the clubbing scene. Not like you seemed to be at least and while at first you insisted that you didn't have to go, she really insisted on doing otherwise. So now you were getting ready and once you were dressed you sat on your vanity and noticed from the mirror that she was watching you. You smiled

“Hey want me to do your makeup?”

She tensed and walked over to you and sat across your vanity on the bed,manspreading and leaning on her elbows which unconsciously made you squeeze your thighs shut and you could feel the tip of your ears burn.

“I’d like that. But ugh,nothing too heavy?”

She asked and you chuckled going back to putting on eyeshadow

“Don’t worry sunshine. Ill do you right”

“Ooooh will you?”

You felt the hair on your arms raise and you looked back at her who had a nasty smirk full of innuendos and you cocked a brow deciding to take on the challenge

“You have no idea”

And that was the first time you saw her get flustered in the most subtle of ways. Reaching around her neck to rub her nape and not looking at you the moment you saw a dust of pink on her nose and cheeks. This was your first little victory.

You were done with your makeup soon enough considering you had a standard go to makeup that you just knew complimented your features the best and then you turned around to start attending to her.

You grabbed a base, a mascara and your eyeliner pomade and stood up to tower over her while doing her makeup.

“Alright relax big girl, I’m not going to hurt you” you said teasingly when you saw how stressfully shut she had her eyes and she breathed out letting a laugh escape and releasing the tension

“Sorry. Not used to this happening”

“That makes me feel so fucking special” she chuckled and then tried to stop when she felt move on your hands starting to do their work.

“You have beautiful features, you know. Bet you’ve been on many MUAs eyes”

“Stop,you’re just flattering me now”

“Absolutely not. I hate doing peoples makeup and yet I wanna do yours”

You tried applying very little foundation, loving the map of constellations the freckles on her face formed and had a desire to accentuate them more by working around them.

Without realizing you moved closer to her standing between her spread thighs, your naked knee grazing her jeans. She carefully moved a hand behind it and gently held your leg which you tried not to think too much about. That was until you felt her thumb brush against the tender flesh of your skin. Slow and subtle and so careful, almost like a wolf trying to lure in a deer. You kept working with her face and when it came to doing her eyeliner you had to be steadier. So you moved closer, balancing your knee on the edge of the bed between her legs, her hand following the movement all the way through until her palm was now resting just a few inches below your ass given that now the only empty space was your thigh.

You were shaking

“Sorry Ill have to hold your face so that I don't mess up”

“Yeah go ahead”

She said a little more rattled than you expected her to sound and you held her cheek while drawing a thin,small brown line. You finished up with the mascara and had to resist testing your luck by suggesting lipstick.

“There. Done”

She opened her eyes and you stared at each other with your lips parted for a few minutes as the realization of your proximity hit. You pulled away first and motioned her over to your mirror which she had to heavily bend over to look at her reflection and she smiled

“Oh wow yeah, You are good. Never thought I’d see myself like that”

Your hands were shaking and you were starting to get anxious. Badly. Your mind wandered off to the fear that you just missed a very good opportunity and you seriously needed weed or a drink

“Alright we are ready to get going then”

Abby hit it off with your friends right away. Not that you ever had doubts but you could never be too sure. Rick, the sweetheart, was obviously just incredibly happy to see you with “the buff mommy of your dreams” as she whispered to you before you walked into the club which earned her a slap on the arm to hush her. The night was going well, save for the first hour of awkwardness before the shots started coming in and the good songs were being put on. You danced and when your favorite song came you and June grabbed each other by the arms and screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs. You were so lost in the moment that you completely forgot how you looked and when you turned around to check on Abby there was nothing but awe in her face. No hint of disgust or discomfort or second hand embarrassment as you feared you would find. No, if anything she seemed to love whatever was unfolding before her eyes and she leaned back to sit on a stool and crossed her arms with a smirk looking smug. You walked over to her and too drunk to care propped your hands on her thigh and leaned in close to her ear

“Are you having fun?”

An arm reached out around you and rested on your lower back which gave you shivers. Your dress was backless and short which normally would make you feel cold but Abby's touch made it feel like it was hot summer night

“Oh yeah this is great. You are a good dancer”

You laughed drunk and high with music euphoria and held her arm you fingers pushing into the muscles in delight and tried to get her stand up

“Then dance with me”

Dragging her was pointless. Like a mountain Abby would not move and could not be swayed. But she did seem to enjoy your determined efforts to get her to do what you wanted so she indulged you while teasing your every move and reaching out to take a sip from her drink.

“You are so stubborn” You mumbled and she leaned in closer asking you to repeat the question the same moment that a girl bumped into you and in motion you fell on Abby. Gravity failed you both as her drink spilled all over your dress sparing her jeans and shirt which made you frown and groan in frustration.

The girl turned around to look at you in embarrassment and immediately held your hand

“I’m so sorry fuck let me help you clean up” she said frantic and your face softened immediately at her remorseful behavior. Your dress was most certainly ruined though. Abby stood up pushing her drink on the other side of the counter and held you by the waist glaring at the girl “Its fine we got this” She said, loud enough for the three of your to hear and moved you upstairs to the restroom.

“Alright now, paper towels” She said to herself and you leaned against the sink counter feeling your head buzz. The smell of chlorine made you dizzy and you had to kneel down and rest your head in the hollow of your crossed arms that were propped against your knees

“You good?” Abby asked and you looked up at her concerned expression

“Ah, I have such a good angle from here” Sober you weren't friends with drunk you. With every shot you took your filter evaporated and you were the type of drunk who got incredibly horny and flirty. The sight of the woman who was sculpted like a Greek statue accelerated those thoughts and those khaki pants sat so nicely and low on her crotch showing just a sliver of her black boxer briefs.

“Oh you are drunk as fuck” She said and kneeled before you holding your arms away from your chest to start cleaning the front of your dress.

“You leaned your head closer to her face and she looked you in the eyes with a playful scowl.

“Oh and you aren’t ?”

She shook her head with a smile and went back to wiping your top

“If I wasn’t I would not be able to do this with that much comfort” she admitted and you did only now notice that the area she was so carefully trying to clean was your chest. You smiled and held her hand to grab the tissue

“Let me do it myself then”

“Absolutely not”

“You fucking pervert”

“Oh you have no idea”

You both laughed and when you left the bathroom you were even closer than before. She still refused to dance much but with the help of your friends you did lift her spirits enough to at least not constantly be seated on a stool. That and she seemed incredibly intent on keeping hold of you one way or another putting quite a show when a more sensual song would play without ever getting too explicit. It drove you mad, this slow burn game of push and pull that lasted throughout the entire night and all the way home where you both crashed on the bed hardly in the mood to properly change or take off your makeup but you did have the decency to turn around when she changed and so did she. Not that it mattered since she decided to sleep in her sports bra and sweats and you wore an oversized t-shirt with your underwear only.In a way,there was a distant thought of you hoping that something more would have happened while at the same time you were incredibly satisfied with the turn of events

—————

Abby’s POV

Her head was spinning and not from vodka. All night she was fighting the urge to make you dry hump her thigh or thrust her hips against your ass in the most vile and sexual way possible.Hell she was close to doing so after the fifth shot of Smirnoff. She groaned and turned around in the bed now face to face with your sleeping frame. She was close enough to feel the small puffs of air on her exposed sternum. She herself was slowly dozing off and was ready to fall asleep until she felt you move closer and bury your face in her chest and tossed your leg over her thigh,keeping the other one snuggly between your own. Her senses were clouded and her head was a mess and she saw you open your eyes that were glossy and in the same daze as she was. You didn't say a word and neither did she. She felt your fingers first, circling her waist and nudge at the waistband of her sports bra, feeling the skin and dipping your fingers beneath it just enough to feel some more. Your eyes fell on her lips and she took the initiative to kiss you. That was the intent. But the gesture was a lot softer, barely grazing the surface. She looked at your eyes trying to find any sense of discomfort but you whined at the loss of contact and she kissed you a second time with more fervor,nibbling on your lower lip and pressing her tongue against it. You opened your mouth with a moan and she took her chance to dive deeper and switch positions with her now on top of you and your hands deep in her scalp holding her hair in fists as you reciprocated the gesture silently begging for more.

She pushed a thigh between your legs and you met her movement by grinding your hips against her chasing some sort of release.

“Abby” you whispered her name like a prayer and she pulled away from your bruised lips a string of saliva still connecting you both with the taste of your cherry lipgloss on her tongue.That soft needy voice may have been the most divine sound that had ever graced her ears. She gave you another kiss on the cheek and then on your jaw and went all the way down to your collar bones. She decided to linger on your neck a bit more nibbling at the tender skin just above your pulse,careful not to leave any unwanted marks. You called for her again and she pulled away and held your face in her hands and gave you another kiss. There were so many things she wished she had the energy to do that night, but there was an impending headache numbing her skull and she could see you struggle to stay sober and awake. You were both drunk and in need of sleep.

You pulled her closer and she rested her head on your chest listening to your heartbeat. Her arms slipped beneath your waist holding you tightly against her front and then she finally fell asleep

••••

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