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angel-sweets666 · 2 months

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Bakugos first time getting head

AGED UP!! Katsuki bakugo x fem! Reader

warnings: smut,, jerking off, blowjob. Sort of a extension to hallway crush

AGED UP im talking like last year of UA 18 years old sort of aged up

A/N I realised people don’t really know me, so to make it easier my names angel and I go by she/her, I never really introduced myself, also this banner😍

sorry for disappearing I’m back now and I think the smut is kinda rushed sorry 😭😭😭

Katsuki never thought of loosing his virginity often, it never crossed his mind on a daily basis. He wasn’t like his idiot “friends” Denki, sero and kirishima who all had either lost their virginity or were planning on it, especially Denki when he would yap into katsukis ear about finding the perfect girl to plow into which often lead to bakugo getting up and leaving mid conversation.

but then there was you, you flicked a switch in his brain like no girl did before. Sure he had a huge crush on you like he’s never had a crush on a girl before, but he also had a lust for you. Katsuki would sit in class and stare at you from the corner of his eye while imagining bending you over his bed and stuffing you with his seed or thinking about dragging you to the bathrooms and fucking you in a stall ect, all thoughts lead to him asking aizawa to go to the bathroom because he’s got a massive boner he desperately wants to deal with.

And dealing with it would probably be the most pathetic (prettiest) thing ever. Katsuki would sit in the bathroom with his baggy pants and boxers pulled down and his hard sore cock up against the fabric of his shirt, poor boy would spit into his hand and stroke the length of it with a grumble and after a while he’d get desperate and just start fucking his fist, bucking his hips into his hand all while imagining it was you balls deep on his cock. You would be so pretty bouncing on his dick in the school toilets while he held your hips and buried his face in your tits with a grunt and if your lucky a whine.

but bakugo couldn’t just fuck you, not just randomly. You wouldn’t allow that, you have more pride than that.

So when you two started talking then started talking he was beyond happy, though he wouldn’t show it behind his usually stoic and aggressive personality.

One day you two were sitting together at the back of class, both of you bored out of your minds! Katsukis eyes wonder from the board to you.he admired how pretty you were from head to toe, his eyes lingered around your thighs… your soft pretty thighs… the blonde bit his lip before trying to distract himself.

not now not now not now.

The blonde looked back down at your thighs before looking up at your face, only to see you looking back at him “what are you looking at?” You giggled, teasing him a bit “hah? I can look at you if I wanna look at you” he grumbled and turned his attention back to the board “righttt…nice hard on by the way” you teased him again as you pulled at a lock of his ash blonde hair. Katsuki looked down to find himself beginning to get a boner “shit…” he whispered and raised his hand “oi can I go to the toilet?”

You watched katsuki get up and leave in a hurry, slamming the door shut behind him. You giggled with amusement, you’d never think you’d have that sort of reaction out of him, you two never did anything sexual as of right now, you didn’t think he had a interest in it. But from that moment you realised maybe he did and just didn’t wanna tell you. You gave it a couple minutes before raising your hand too

“Mr. Aizawa, can I go to the toilet? Lady problems,” you said with a grin, knowing full well he suspected what you were really up to. The exhausted man barely glanced up from his desk, his eyes half-lidded with fatigue. “I don’t care…” he muttered, waving you off dismissively.

You walked down the hallway, the silence broken only by the rhythmic clicking of your shoes against the polished floor. As you neared the boys' toilets, you paused and knocked lightly on the wall before calling out, “Katsuki? You in here?” . After a brief silence, you heard a response. “Y-yeah! I’m… ah- I’m okay. Piss off!” Katsuki shouted back, his voice strained, you could hear slight panting. “Am I interrupting something?” You cooed, trying to tease him “hmmph.., yes! Go away!” He again yelled out “oooookayyy…”

you stood by the door as if you knew what was gonna happen

“you still there?” He grumbled out to you “yep” you called back out “you were jerking off huh?” You giggled “shut the fuck up!” “It’s alright it’s normal!” he mumbled in response. After a while in silence you decided to tease him more “so did you cum?” “What the fuck?” You laughed in response, riskily walking into the boys bathroom. “Do you want some help..?” You asked him, the silence was loud.

and that’s how you found yourself on your knees infront of him in the stall while he pushed your head down on his dick “fuck.. that feels good…” he grumbled and pushed you felt the tip of his dick slide deeper down into your throat, you gagged a little due to his huge size. Bakugo felt a bit panicked as it was his first time even getting his first time getting head “shit too far? Am I hurting you?” He asked as he pulled your head off his cock with a loud pop “n-nope” you said as a bit of drool fell down your chin, a dopey grin on your face,

before you knew it katsuki was pushing your head down on his hard cock again “Mmmm.. good girl…” he pet your hair as he pulled at your hair to push you up and down on him. Just as kirishima said he should. The slow pleasure began to build up into frustration, bakugo held your head up as he began to fuck into your face

“A-ah fuck! Don’t get caught don’t get caught… mmmmph…. Such a good girl..”

all while you gagged as tears built up into your eyes, he was much bigger then you thought and you could barely breath with the cock in your mouth. katsuki pushed his whole shaft into your mouth and crossed the line, painting your throat white with his hot cum.

“fuuuuuuuuuuuuckkk”

you pulled his softened dick out your mouth with a pop, swallowing the semen left in your mouth. The blonde stared down at you with short breath, panting softly. “Thank you..I’ve never done that.. before..” “it’s alright baby.. first time for everything”

“shut up….”

HAS EVERYONE SEEN THE MHA ENDING? IM SO SAD. GIVE ME THE PEN IM RE WRITING THAT, I DONT WANT MHA TO END

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caelivir · 2 months

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between me and you, our little secret | suna rintarou

synopsis. rintarou can't keep hiding the fact that he is madly in love with you.

pairing. suna rintarou x fem!reader | wc. 1.3k | genres. secret & established relationship, fluff, down bad and jealous rinnie | warnings. suggestive in the beginning (i got carried away...)

notes. something came over me last night. the entire idea of this made me foam at the mouth. tbh this isn't supposed to be like a fic fic so that's why it's a mess 😭. title definitely did not come from a one direction lyric 👍.

either way hope you enjoy. and happy 300 (+19) followers. love yall.

you and rintarou both agree to be in a secret relationship. your reasoning being that you want to be able to have moments to yourselves without having to deal with the hassle of gossiping peers for now. (or in other words: not having to deal with an interrogation from the miyas).

it's full of sneaking around and hiding away from the prying eyes of your classmates. it's getting texts from him during lunch to meet him at the unused classroom on the third floor after school ends. you'd be waiting patiently, sitting atop one of desks there until he's finally able to slip his way in.

it's you being barely able to get a 'hi' in before rin's crashing his lips onto yours. his forcefulness causes your mouth to fall agape, and he doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue on yours. his hands stroke your thighs before they settle onto one of his favorite parts of your body—your waist. (the reality being he can't choose a singular one. he adores everything about you). your arms drape themselves over his shoulders as the kiss deepens. your mouths move together in perfect harmony, sending waves of heat down to your stomach and ramping up the speed of your heartbeat.

it's seductively messy and hot that you can't help the mewl that escapes your throat. rintarou bites your bottom lip in response before trailing sloppy, open-mouth kisses down your jaw and neck. it doesn't last long because he craves the feeling of your lips against his so rin guides his head back up to get another taste of you. he devours you entirely until your lungs are begging for a breath of air.

it's you having to remind rin that he's going to be late to practice if he doesn't leave now, and he'll whine and groan complaints to you until your insistence forces him to comply, but he doesn't leave immediately, not without stealing another kiss from you.

a secret romance with suna rintarou means being able to have restrain in public or group settings. that's a lie. neither of you are very good at it because your fingers constantly graze each other when you walk side by side when you're with the twins. and if you're feeling brave, you'll wrap your hand around his index and middle fingers for a brief, fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the both of you long for more.

at group dinners, in the chance that rintarou is able to find a way to sit next to you, he'll sneak his hand onto your thigh or hand, tracing anything and everything onto your skin, all while making fun of atsumu from across the table. polygons. misshaped lines. animals. the characters of his name. the characters of yours. hearts. i love you's.

or in class, suna always has his eye on you no matter what you're doing. there's a constant feeling that someone's staring at you, and every single time, it's him. you turn back and give him a beaming grin that makes his heart melt.

one night, when you and rin are cuddling in your bed, you sleepily tell him that you're ready to launch your relationship. you say that he doesn't need to feel pressured by you. you'll wait for him to be ready too, no matter how long it may take.

it's in that moment he's reminded how special, precious, and considerate you are. he decides right there that if you're ready, then he is too. the only problem is how exactly do you launch a relationship? where does he even begin?

he's stuck on it for weeks, and he swears that the longer it takes him, the more he gets tested. because where did that loser from class 3 come from? he's dropped by every single day to talk to you and for a very obvious reason. suna can see the damn hearts swimming in the guy's eyes.

the longer he watches these interactions, the more it pisses him off. what gave him the right to breathe near you? it takes everything in your boyfriend to not approach the guy and tell him to fuck off. you'd probably get upset if he did that so rintarou forces himself to let his jealousy simmer.

it only gets worse after a particularly grueling match. he was worn down. all rin wanted to have see you, have lunch with the team, and go home.

you always come to games to support him and the twins. it's a routine at this point. you'd meet up with them once they got changed and congratulate everyone on their win. atsumu would then beg you to eat with them, and you'd insist that it's fine. rintarou sees right through you. you're always going to agree because it gives you an excuse to be around each other without anyone questioning it.

however, what isn't part of the routine is seeing his opponent flirt with you. it's so obvious that you're not comfortable, and the bastard can't seem to take a hint. the final thread of rin's patience snaps. his jealousy boils over.

he drops his bag and is fuming when he approaches the scene before him. your eyes widen at the sight of your boyfriend because you have never seen him this angry before. he doesn't bother saying anything to the bastard before him. instead, suna wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in to capture your lips in a searing kiss that you reciprocate instantly.

atsumu's gasp is so painfully loud and dramatic that it probably could have been heard around the world, and rintarou continues kissing you regardless. the only reason he stops is because he still feels the presence of his opponent that had the audacity to even try hitting on you.

"you're still here?" suna scorns, raising an eyebrow as he looks the guy up and down.

"what the hell are you-"

"kissing my girlfriend. am i not allowed to kiss my girlfriend anymore?" rin challenges with a tilt of his head.

the guy snaps his gaze to you. "what? you never said you had-"

"i did." you clarify with a dead glare. "i said it multiple times, and you didn't care to listen, asshat."

the guy bites his tongue, red in the face with embarrassment or rage or maybe both, and hustles away. when he's gone, rintarou finally calms down. he looks at you, feeling guilt rise in his stomach.

"sorry." your boyfriend apologizes. "i didn't mean for us to go public like that. i just-"

you laugh. "don't worry about it, love. i was getting fed up too. besides," your lips pull into a teasing smirk. "it was kinda hot. you should get jealous more often."

suna frowns slightly. "i'd rather not."

"tsumu, ya owe me twenty." osamu says apathetically. this effectively snaps you and rin back to the audience you completely forgot you had. every single one of them is gaping at their middle blocker.

"like hell i do!" atsumu protests.

you blink at osamu, jaw falling open slightly. "you made a bet?"

"and?" osamu shoots back as if putting money on your friend's relationship isn't a bizarre thing to do. your boyfriend opts out of saying anything else, and you have to stifle a laugh.

"hey! don't think yer gettin' out of this! ya have some explaining to do!" the blonde twin points an accusing finger at the both of you.

"sure atsumu. sure." rin dismisses the setter as he's finally, finally, able to interlock his fingers with yours for all eyes to see. you squeeze rin's hand as a warm feeling spreads throughout your body. a smile blooms on your pretty face.

never again will suna rintarou ever hide you from the world. he loves you with his entire being, and he'll spend the rest of his life making sure everyone knows it.

#anime #manga #haikyuu #hq #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #° ᡣ𐭩 set i: fics

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reidrum · 3 months

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hey, if you haven’t wrote this before i was wondering if you could write a fic about spencer catching you admiring his hands and later on he fingers you (idk how to word this properly 😭)

fingers crossed | s.r

spencer reid x bau!reader

a/n: this is literally my brand fr

cw: 18+ no minors, fingering, reader is afab, spencer’s slutty ass hands, soft dom spence (duh), praise kink, office shenanigans lol

wc: 1.5k

—

you should’ve known you’d get caught, you work on a team of people literally trained to notice things. you working on that team meant that you thought you could be subtle. yet it didn’t stop you from gaping at spencer whenever he used those fucking hands of his.

it started off innocently, becoming so entranced when he would explain the geographical profile to the team on cases and his massive hands would span the map occasionally using a finger to point out a spot. then it was the way his veined hand engulfed his pistol, so much that it could disappear if he tried. you took detours on the days you knew spencer would be in the training range just so you could watch his fingers pull the trigger over and over again.

you’d go home thinking about those hands, how they would feel roaming your body, squeezing your chest, placed on your throat. it was enough to make yourself come three times over, just imagining what his fingers would feel like inside you. but it never felt as satisfying as what you really craved.

the next day you’d come to work, you and spencer had to work on a report together, and you weren’t sure how you were gonna keep your shit together if he was less than a foot away from you.

he pulled up a chair to your desk and you both started going over the files, and he’d occasionally reach over your lap to point something out in the files you were holding. he’d nonchalantly brush his fingers on your thighs, your shoulders, even placing his hand on the small of your back when hotch had called both of you to his office. it was turning you on so bad, you were getting wetter by the second that you had to cross your legs to find some satiation.

spencer knew you were getting restless, anticipating you were going to break soon. it’s just what he planned.

“everything okay?” spencer whispered, placing his hand on your upper thigh.

the action shocked you, “i’m good! i just think i need another cup of coffee.” you abruptly get up and practically run towards the break room. spencer watches you walk away with a faint smirk on his face. he gives you a minute or two to calm yourself before getting up and following you.

he found you leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand and eyes closed, like you were trying to regulate yourself before returning. you heard footsteps and opened your eyes to watch spencer walk over right next to you, and grab the coffee pot in a way you could only describe as deeply sensual as he accentuated every movement, flexing his fingers around the handle and gripping so motherfucking tightly his veins popped up, before pouring himself a cup and speaking to you, “so, i think we’re missing a file. will you come with me to the records room to help find it?”

he calls your name again when you’re so obviously still staring at his hand holding the mug and not attending to him. you snap up and stare at his face blankly, he stares back with that smug ass smirk still and you realize he’s holding his hand out for you to take.

he has to be fucking with you right? it can’t just be a coincidence at this point. spencer literally rambles on and on about the actual probability of coincidence, and if it happens enough times, it’s intentional.

so you take his hand.

and now you’re reflecting on the last few hours, the maybe not so accidental touches to your thighs, the over exaggeration of his fingers pointing to lines in your files that you knew he didn’t need to check again, and now his outstretched hand leading you to a secluded room. you don’t have time to finish your conclusion when the door to the records room closes behind you both and spencer pushes you against it to cage you in with his arms.

“hi.” he’s so close to you oh my god.

“h- hi.”

spencer starts trailing his hand up the side of your hip, “you seem really distracted today.”

“oh…i didn’t realize, sorry.” you murmur, trying not to get distracted as his hand ends its journey on the side of your neck, curling his fingers around the back and angling your face up with his thumb.

“i’m not sure how you expect to get anything done if you keep staring at my hands all day, sweetheart.”

fuck.

your eyes widen, “i wasn’t, no it wasn’t like that, i..” but your protests fall on lost lips as he thumbs over your lower lip.

“if you wanted my fingers that bad, all you had to do was ask.”

your heartbeat fastens as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, slow but exploratory. he feels you relax a little and pushes his tongue through and attacks you more earnestly. your hands have rested on his shoulders while his have both moved to your hips, pinning you to the door.

one hand moves to play with the button of your dress pants, rubbing his thumb over the button and slightly dipping the tips of his fingers into your waist, “is this okay?”, you nod, “if you want me to stop, at any point, just tell me.” you nod again, pulling his head back down to kiss him, already missing the drunk feeling he gives you. he deftly undoes the button and pulls down the zipper, pushing your pants down around your thighs but leaving your panties on.

you thank whoever’s watching over you that you chose lavender lacy panties today, and it seems spencer’s especially thankful as well when he lets out a groan, “i think you’re trying to kill me.”

“i think it’s going both ways right now.” you pant.

spencer dips his index finger just below the waistband of your panties and pulls it back, “oh honey,” snap. “just you wait.” you let out a soft whimper while he chuckles to himself.

he runs his hand down the lace trimming of your panties, reaching the crevice of your inner thigh and your core. ghosting his fingers over where you really need him, he watches your face intently for how you react. your eyebrows are furrowed, and your breathing is heavy, but not enough to let out a moan. and spencer is nothing if not an overachiever.

he presses his middle finger flat against your core, staring as the increased pressure causes your mouth to fall open. he’s getting closer, but it’s not enough.

moving his fingers back to the crevice, he hooks two fingers and slides your panties to the side, wasting no time in collecting your arousal and spreading it all over you. he faintly hears his name fall from your swollen lips, and he knows he’s close to his goal.

giving your clit the last bit of attention, he dives his middle finger down and enters your hole, and you lose it.

the sharp gasp you let out immediately turns into a pornographic moan as he begins moving in and out of you.

“there’s my girl, knew i could get those pretty sounds out of you.” he breathes in your ear.

his praise goes straight down, making you clench around his slender finger, something that spencer made note of, “you like it when i tell you things like that huh?” he adds his ring finger to the mix, “wanna hear how good you’re doing for me?”

“spencer, please…i’m so close” you whimper.

“i know baby, you’re taking my fingers so well, can’t imagine how you’d look full of my cock.”

“fuck, oh my god…” you whine

he’s got you teetering on the edge of your orgasm as you let out another loud moan, the feeling of his fingers sliding in you so fucking easily is enough to make you delirious. spencer feels you clench around him again and knows you’re so close, and rubs his thumb on your clit.

“come for me, pretty girl, show me what my fingers do to you.”

it was enough to send you crashing into your peak, grabbing on to his forearms as you roll your head back, spilling out a mix of expletives, his name, and moans as he fucks you through your high. you slowly come back down to reality, panting heavily as you meet his honeyed eyes again. he slows his movements and gently pulls out, opening his mouth to suck the arousal off his fingers.

“jesus fuck, spence.” you whimper.

he laughs as he helps you pull your pants back up and resituates you with a pat on your ass, “come on, let’s go pack up our stuff.”

“what why? we still have to finish the report.” you lamely point out.

spencer leans down to plant a longing kiss on your lips again, “i think the file i’m looking for is at home,” he smooths your hair down, “go tell hotch we’re gonna finish it at my place.”

you can’t help but smirk, “why won’t you come tell him yourself?” your eyes panning down to his bulging crotch.

“don’t be a little shit, you know why. now go tell him, or i’m not gonna be as nice as i was now when we get there.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fanfiction #request

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ellecdc · 5 months

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can i formally request something? (i have no idea if you take smut requests so please ignore me if not😭) a barty x reader smut where everyone already thinks they’re together so they’re like 🤔?? maybe they’re onto something

and maybe if they try to tell people (read regulus) they’re just like -_-¿ this is new

and well done on your exams!! i’m sure you aced them

hahaha omg this is so Barty and reader coded fr. thanks for your request (I hope I did it justice)

Barty Crouch Jr x afab fem!reader who has sex for the first sodding time, Evan

CW: smut - like straight up porn people, p in v intercourse, pussy slapping cuz apparently I'm a freak, soft choking, a slap in the face if you squint, 18+

This conversation had been going on for so long that you were truly fighting the urge to throw your head back and let out a guttural scream out of pure frustration.

But Barty never fought his urges.

“For fuck’s sake!” He screeched. “How many sodding times do you need me to say it: we - are - not - to - geth - er!” He shouted at Evan, emphasising each syllable with a stomp of his foot.

Evan smirked and shared a look with Dorcas before rolling his eyes.

“Sure. And what exactly is this?” He asked, gesturing with his book at your tangled forms.

Okay, so maybe you and Barty were physically affectionate with each other - but that didn’t mean anything.

“What?” Barty asked simply.

“The way you’re sitting, Junior.” Dorcas drawled in a bored tone.

You both looked at each other like you were only just now realising your proximity to each other.

You were positioned on the cushion of the sofa between Barty’s thighs with his arms wrapped around you and his hands weaselled under your shirt and tucked under your breasts.

What?

It was for warmth; he has terrible circulation, you know.

“We always sit like this.” You replied.

Evan scoffed. “You always sit like you’re one sneeze away from having his dick slip inside of you?”

“Okay, you know what?” Barty said, slipping his hands out from your shirt and patting your thighs to say ‘get up’, and standing up behind you. “I didn’t come here to be spoken to like this, least of all by someone who has his head shoved so far up his arse that he could check for tonsillitis.”

Evan shut his book he’d been pretending to read up until that point causing Barty to screech and shout at you to ‘save yourself’ as the two of you took off in the direction of his dorm room.

You were laughing and breathless by the time you made it into Barty’s room and he shut the door behind you, casting a locking charm for good measure should Evan come looking for retribution for the slander.

“Honestly, I think they’re just jealous.” You said breathlessly.

Barty nodded as he sucked in a few deep breaths himself. “I mean, it’s kind of sad he’s never had a best friend that he felt so comfortable with, you know?”

“Exactly!”

“And I don’t know why everyone has to make it so sexual. Do you have great tits? Sure. But that’s not why I put my hands on them!”

“Of course.” You agreed readily. “And I mean, are we two of the hottest people to walk these fucking halls? Of course we are -”

“Absolutely.”

“- but that doesn’t mean we’re shagging!”

“Right!” Barty said with finality as he finally sat down on the chair at his desk. “I don’t know why they have to make everything so weird.”

“Me either.” You groaned as you fell backwards onto Barty’s bed and stared up at the green velvet bed curtains draped over the four poster bed. “They’re probably just jealous.” You repeated. “I mean, we would make a really hot couple; I’d want to be with us too.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I was just thinking.” Barty agreed quickly. “And if we were having sex, they’d bloody know it. It would be hot.”

“Gods, it really would be, wouldn't it?”

“Without a doubt; I’m great in bed, and you’re great at everything.” Barty said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You know what.” You said as you sat up to face Barty. “It would be hot. Great sex comes from trust-”

“Check.”

“- communication,”

“Check.”

“Familiarity,”

“Duh.”

“Confidence.”

“Obviously.”

“We’d be sodding lucky to be shagging each other!” You proclaimed.

“I agree!” He responded.

You both stared at each other; breathing slightly laboured having gotten yourselves so worked up pleading your cases (to no one, seeing as you were both clearly on the same page).

“Huh.” Barty said finally, giving your body a once over. “You know, maybe it is weird we haven’t fucked before.”

“Yeah.”

Your eyes met his green ones that held an intensity you’d not seen from him before.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna fuck?”

“Yeah.”

And like a flip had been switched, the two of you were launching yourselves at each other.

No time was spent savouring touches or testing waters. It was all teeth clashing, tongues dancing, heavy breathing, and tearing each other’s clothes off.

It felt somehow both forbidden and oh so right.

You’d truly never thought about Barty like this; you really were just that comfortable with one another.

But as you pulled his shirt over his head and started fussing with his belt, a fire roared to life inside you screaming we should have been doing this the whole bloody time.

You nearly tripped over the waistband of your trousers as Barty backed the two of you towards his bed where he sat on the edge.

You broke apart for air as he moved his sinful mouth down the expanse of your torso and took to marking up your breasts.

“Salazar they’re even better like this.” He murmured to himself before taking one of your nipples in his mouth whilst he pinched the other.

You ran your finger through his hair, an action you'd done many times before, but never like this.

You pulled at it roughly and brought his lips back to yours as you pushed him to lay back on his bed so you could straddle him.

“Merlin, Y/N. No foreplay?” He chuckled breathlessly as you gave his cock a few strokes and whispered a lubrication charm.

“Next time.” You sighed as you lined him up with your entrance and slowly sank down onto his cock, causing the two of you to moan in unison.

“Next time, huh?” Barty teased as he smoothed his hands up and down your sides, allowing the two of you to adjust to the feeling of one another before you experimentally rolled your hips.

“What? Don’t you want to fuck me, Junior?” You taunted right back.

Barty thrusted his hips up roughly into yours, causing you to cry out and place your hands on his shoulders to stabilise yourself. “I think it’s very obvious I want to fuck you.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, bringing your mouth back to his and biting gently on his bottom lip.

“Yeah.”

You breathed a laugh out through your nose before you bit down harder.

“Then fuck me.”

And before you could tell which way was up, Barty had flipped the two of you over so he now hovered over top of you and had his hand wrapped around your neck.

“You want to be fucked, doll?” He groaned as he hooked one of your legs around his hip allowing himself that much deeper in you.

If there was one thing you could thank the fucked up breeding habits of Purebloods for, it was apparently the size of their cocks.

“You want me to ruin you?” He continued as he added more pressure to your throat, still grinding into your now sopping cunt. “Make sure no other wizard is ever good enough for you?”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire; the feeling when you’re sitting on the poolside in the sun after a swim; the beads of water only make the sun’s rays feel that much warmer against your skin.

“Oi.” He demanded, giving your cheek a chastising tap. “You gonna be good for me?” He asked more seriously this time.

His beautiful green eyes were nearly fully eclipsed by his pupils as he continued moving in and out of you with what you realised now was a very controlled pace. But you were eager to see where he’d go from here.

“I’ll be good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.” He ordered.

“I’ll be good.”

“What was that?”

“I’ll be good, Barty.” You whined, pulling at his arms in an attempt to bring him closer.

“Who are you going to be good for?”

“You.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed in agreement as he hiked up your other leg and wrapped it around his hip.

“Tell me.”

“I’ll be good for you! Promise. I’ll be so good for you, please.”

Barty chuckled and let out a taunting cooing sound as he fell to his elbows and brought his face to yours.

“There’s no need to beg, sweets.”

And just like that, he was pulling away from you again.

Suddenly, his hands were on your hips and he lifted them into the air, holding them there as he began slamming into you.

“Gonna be so fucking good for me, aren’t you angel?” He grunted.

You scrunched your eyes shut at the feeling of his throbbing cock pounding into you; adjusting his angle every few thrusts in search of something.

“I bet you’re a fucking screamer, huh? You always got so much to say babygirl; don’t go quiet on me now.”

His fingers dug further into the fat of your hips as he adjusted his grip on you, causing you to let out an embarrassing keening sound.

Apparently that was close, but not quite what Barty had been looking for.

“Close. How about we try…”

And he pulled out of you completely before landing a hard smack against your pussy, forcing a surprised scream to tear from your throat.

“There’s the pretty sounds I was looking for.” He celebrated, rubbing placating circles on your clit before repositioning himself and sinking back into you. “Think you can keep that up for me, Princess?”

“Yes!” You cried quickly, grabbing helplessly at the bedding as he once again lifted your hips up into the air, finding that sweet spot inside you that he’d been in search of before his interruption.

He knew he found his mark when you let out another strangled sob.

“Alright pretty girl, there we go, huh? Does that feel good?”

You were babbling affirmatives nonsensically as he groaned at the sensation of your walls clenching around him; yesses and pleases spilling from your lips.

“Fuck you feel so good.”

“Please Barty.” You cried, reaching a hand up to his wrist.

He let your hips fall to the bed as he brought one thumb to your clit and his other hand took yours in his.

“What is it, princess? Hm?”

“Please.” You whined, and it sounded pathetic even in your own ears in your current state.

But Barty only tsked and pulled two of your fingers into his mouth which he began to suck.

You could feel the tension building in your core as he quickened his pace with his thumb and his hips before letting your fingers go with a pop.

“I’ll take care of your princess, you know that. When have I ever let you down?”

Never.

“Never.”

He smiled triumphantly down at you; and though his mouth was cocky, his eyes were sincere.

“Exactly. I’m not about to start now, yeah?”

And suddenly his thumb was gone from your clit, your ankles were thrown over his shoulders and he was leaning his weight against the backs of your thighs as he began thrusting into you with an air of desperation.

“Atta girl; so good, huh? S’good.” He grunted as his thrusts became somewhat sloppy. “S’fuckin’ good for me. Perfect for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted with each thrust of his hips. “Please, oh gods, please, please Barty.”

“I know, I know.” He grunted, clearly as close to teetering over some sort of edge as you were. “I know, I feel it. You’re alright, yeah? Go on, sweets; I’ve got you.”

And his hands were holding onto your thighs for dear life and he was kissing at your knee like even that silly little part of you was something worthy of worship, and he did have you and he never let you down and he wasn’t going to start now and you saw stars as you finally fell over the edge.

The room fell quiet as Barty locked his lips on yours, and you realised you’d been screaming.

His hips stuttered as he thrust into you once, twice, three times more before he followed you over the edge; letting your legs fall from his shoulders as he fell to his elbows on top of you and the two of you fought to catch your breath.

In complete contrast to the Barty who was only moments ago pounding mercilessly into you, he started placing, slow, lingering, gentle kisses over your face as his thumbs rubbed idly at your temples.

He pressed a kiss to your neck, your jaw, the tip of your nose, over your eyelids, your forehead, your ear.

You knew Barty could have a soft side, but you never imagined it so tender.

“I knew you’d be a screamer.” He whispered, breaking you out of the serene moment and surprising a bark of laughter from you, which caused both of you to groan in discomfort before Barty slowly pulled out of you.

“Stay here, princess.” He instructed as he walked away from the bed and returned a few moments later with a warm cloth and one of his (read: your favourite of his) t-shirts.

You watched him carefully as he cleaned you up - and once again, what probably should have felt awkward or embarrassing felt nothing but natural as he doted on you.

“Can you sit up?” He asked; not one hint of condescension in his tone as he held the neckhole of his shirt open for you to slip your head into.

As it poked through, he pressed a kiss to your lips before helping to thread your arms in.

“Is it safe to assume we’ll be doing that again?” You asked with a smirk, causing him to scoff dramatically.

“We’ll be doing that the rest of our lives if I have anything to say about it.”

After a shower and a change into comfies, the two of you returned to the common room, and though Dorcas was long gone, Evan could be found where the two of you had left him, now in the company of Regulus.

“Well boys.” Barty sang dramatically as he swung his legs over the back of the sofa and landed on the seat with a bounce. “We just fucked.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant goading as you sat beside him.

“Yeah? And I had potions today; so what?” Regulus muttered without looking up from his novel.

“What do you mean so what? This was the first time!” Barty argued.

“This is new.” You insisted severely.

“You know, I always knew Barty was a liar; but I expected better from you, Y/N.”

Your mouth dropped open as Regulus and Evan stood up and walked away from the seating area.

What you didn’t see as they walked towards the Slytherin dungeons was Regulus passing Evan five Galleons for their bet on who could convince the two of you to finally get over your “just friends” bit.

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 1 year

Text

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT ─── cillian murphy ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I am turned inside out by the ache in your voice, the taste of your tongue." — ‘Afternoon Masala: Poems’, Vandana Khanna

pairing. cillian murphy x actor!reader

summary. you and your co-star, cillian, are having a hard time performing a sex scene for your movie. they do say, however, practice makes perfect.

warnings. swearing, thigh-riding, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, mentioned/implied age gap, probably inaccurate depictions of actor-life, mirror sex, slight breeding kink, kinda innocent reader(?), AU cillian murphy (not married/no kids), SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 4.5k

a/n. this is not in any way meant to disrespect cillians wife😭 i js made this a not married AU to be convenient!

“Cut - cut, cut!” The director repeated, his increasing irritation colouring his voice completely. “Now, I said it earlier, but—“

You scrubbed your face with a sigh, getting up off of Cillian and the desk, who was propping himself up by the elbows. “It’s not passionate enough,” you finished flatly for your director, who nodded earnestly.

“I promise, this is as tiring for me as it is for you. Remember,” the director continued, the script half curled in his hands and making a thin flapping noise, “it’s the culmination of six months of pining. Six months of taboo, unrelenting, electric tension. Nothing more than stares in class and brief touches- you are supposed to be bordering feral for one another.”

You, and your co-star, Cillian, were currently filming the first sex scene of a movie portraying the forbidden, toxic love affair between a barely 18 teenage student and her much older teacher. Well, not exactly filming- you weren’t getting far with the scene, for the two of you just couldn’t get it right. Or, as the director liked to say, passionate enough.

The role was already incredibly taxing, even without the added stress of the sex scene: it was 20 hour work days, living on set in a trailer far from home, having to devote at least half of those hours to filming this very sex scene, and had a perfectionist director like yours.

The problem was that it was long, and the director wanted it done in one take. Brilliant man, he was, and had a love for this project you wished every director had for theirs, but he was adamant on it being done perfectly. He said it was intended to be the “primary and most iconic” scene of the entire film, for it was the crux of the story; the point of no return for the characters.

“With all due respect, I’ve never imagined such a scenario, much less had experience. Just how can you expect me to portray a student-teacher romance accurately?“

“That’s your job: to imagine and perform.” The director demanded, obviously up to his ears in frustration.

Just before you retorted irately, Cillian cut in smoothly. “I think what she means,” he said, watching the veins in the director’s forehead nearly burst, “is that it’s hard to perform because it’s not common. S’easy to act in love because there’s love all around, yeah? We don’t have much to go off of, visually.”

The director’s gaze rapidly flitted between you and Cillian for a moment, before letting go of his anger and sighing wearily. “You’ve never even thought about a superior that way? Someone older than you?” he pressed, obviously joking and trying to lighten the set’s mood.

You paused, and tried not to look at Cillian, your blatantly gorgeous forty-something co-star who was chosen for this role firstly, because of his stellar acting and secondly, because of how fucking attractive he was.

His character was a total fucking creep, and you knew casting Cillian had been a calculated choice; all in the name of making the audience’s guard come down to be smacked in the face by his immorality later. He was meant to be charming, handsome, and terribly, totally, off-limits: the object of completely forbidden desire, the line your character was desperate to cross.

It seemed the same in real life, too: the young inexperienced actress wanting to ignore those societal niceties and pine wholeheartedly over the middle-aged actor with decades of knowledge under his belt.

You weren’t, like, in love or anything, but you certainly reveled in his presence: he was patient, kind, and completely understanding of your lack of experience, always guiding you through all the steps an actor takes during filming like when to take off hair and makeup, what best to say to family and friends prying for details- all the things, he said, he wished someone told him when he was first starting out.

You were afraid you two had unknowingly fallen into a mentor-mentee dynamic, but there were always those spare moments, between hearty fits of laughter and silly conversation that you’d never expected to come from such an intimidating man as Cillian, where his rough hands would brush past your waist, gaze dragging up and down your body, sounding sensual and provocative despite nothing dirty leaving his mouth at all.

He made your insides pulse, especially when your more intimate scenes came about, and you could only have a lusting woman’s pipedream that he felt the same.

You still remember the first sequence you’d done with him: in the movie, your characters met after-class to make up for a missed exam, and it was the start of their corrupt attraction. Cillian had been pressed against your back, leaning over you to pressuringly peer at the test, large hand gripping your shoulder. The air felt steamy then, his body warm, low voice making you feel lightheaded as he recited his lines.

You shivered at the remembrance of the moment, coming back to reality, and you answered the director’s question with a vehement shake of the head.

The director let out a (strained) laugh, and smacked his palm lightly with the script, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Okay, we’ll - we’ll break for today. Take this extra time to imagine, research, anything- just practice the scene, alright? Practice makes perfect.”

You and Cillian nodded simultaneously, giving eachother a look that just screamed “he’s ridiculous” before tearing away from each other's stare to return to your trailers.

Later, you were getting ready to go to bed, peeling your freshly showered hair out of a small towel, when there was a knock at your trailer door.

“One second,” you called out, pulling on your silk sleep shorts. You vaguely registered how awkward it might be to be seen in your pajamas if the director or one of your fellow actors came about, but you were way too tired to care.

You did care, however, self-consciously crossing your arms and covering your thinly-clothed chest, when you opened the door and there on the steps stood your co-star, Cillian.

Before speaking, he looked you up and down, icy blue eyes gleaming behind an unfamiliar pair of tortoise shell frames. “You goin’ to bed?” he finally asked, tone husky.

His gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs for a few seconds longer and you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your ankles together in a poor attempt to hide yourself.

“What do you need?” you asked briskly, more sharp than you meant it to be.

“Sorry,” he corrected himself, shaking his head and finally looking you in the eye. “I meant’a come by earlier… got caught up. I know this, ah, sex scene is tripping us up, so…” he trailed off, lifting up the white script he’d been holding behind his back. “Y’up for some practice?”

You blinked rapidly at the simple, innocent request. Mere rehearsal, not some lecherous late-night escapade you’d been dreaming up in your mind. “Oh… yes, of course,” you nodded numbly, moving out of the way to let him step in.

Only moments later, when he’d perched onto the edge of your vanity — looking uniquely casual in what you assumed was his version of pajamas: baggy gray sweatpants and a fitted, well-worn black t-shirt — did you realize the connotations of rehearsing your sex scene.

Sure, it was all pre-determined, every word you’d say and every action you’d perform, but still. Saying- and doing, such suggestive things after-hours? That was beyond your dirtiest fantasies.

However, you shook yourself internally: Cillian had come to rehearse the scene with professional intentions. Honestly, he’d probably done so because he was tired of you messing up the scene. He could do his own part masterfully, and you knew that if it’d been a better, more experienced actress by his side, filming would’ve moved on ages ago.

You took shaky, tentative steps near him, settling on your bed, watching him flip through the script— when he looked up and frowned.

“What’re you doing? Come here,” he gestured for you to come closer, almost a command. “We don’t have a desk, so we can use your vanity.”

You nodded, biting your lip and nervously complying with his words. “So, we’ll start from the beginning?” you asked, your voice -- and legs -- suddenly feeling terribly weak.

His eyes were still trained on the paper as he answered. “Not necessarily. The sex part s’really the only thing we’re having trouble with, yeah?”

You gulped, throat dry. “Yeah, I guess so.”

With that, he chanced one last look at the script, before diving into the scene. His actions were ones you were extremely familiar with, having attempted this scene everyday for at least a week now.

His body turned to yours, hands coming up to your jaw, and pressing your back onto the table slightly. He held you tightly, and made you look at him, while delivering his lines softly, memorable Irish accent replaced by his character’s generic American one.

Jiltedly, you did the same, poorly remembering what you needed to say and dragging through it like some amateur. “Fuck, sorry,” you cursed suddenly, tearing away from his touch and sighing.

He gave you a small, careful smile, immediately breaking out of character and taking a step away from the vanity. “No need t’be nervous. Practice makes perfect, right?”

You snorted at his quoting of the director. “I just… I don’t know what he means by passionate. I’m trying to be professional about this but - but I’ve seriously never been in some steamy love-affair.”

“Can’t really expect that of you, can we? You’re too young, too much’ve a good girl for that kinda ‘ting.” He said, hand coming up to your shoulder, the one where your silk tanktop’s spaghetti strap had slipped off, rubbing it soothingly.

You practically melted into a puddle at both the pet name and how the rough pads of his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin. You were so entranced you almost whined when he stopped and pulled up your fallen strap, but instead you wordlessly snatched the script that was dropped onto the table and found one of the lines, inhaling sharply and readying yourself.

Your hand came up to tug on the sleeve of Cillian’s shirt, as dictated by the script. “Sir, please,” you whispered out in your character’s high pitched voice, “I - I… want you to touch me.”

“This is -- wrong. I’m your teacher, and I…” Cillian responded, swiftly back in character, the back of his palm grazing your cheek. “I gotta break your heart, darling.”

You looked up at Cillian, summoning crocodile tears to fill your gaze. “Please. I need you.” Then, one of your clammy hands ran down Cillian’s chest as you spoke, like it did back on set. “I think of you, at night. I soaked through my shorts the day you scolded me.”

You heard Cillian’s breath hitch- his character, you reminded yourself. “Fucking hell… I think of you in class, sweetheart,” he growled out perfectly.

So far, so good, you thought. It wasn’t awkward, and was already miles better than the lackluster performances you’d given previously. You continued by leaning into Cillian’s touch, making him sit on the vanity— the part of the scene you’d gotten to this morning, before the director called cut.

This time, however, Cillian’s actions differed from the ones he was supposed to perform: instead of petting the crown of your head, his fingers trailed down your hips, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’ll be good for you, sir,” you recited, face growing hot as his hand inched closer to the curve of your ass. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

Cillian’s gaze had darkened now, flitting over your features. He didn’t say his line - or, had at least missed the timing, and you removed your hands from his body worriedly. “Are you alright—“

Before you could finish your sentence, Cillian had grabbed you by the ass, switching your places and setting you down on the edge of the vanity.

“Cillian!“ you squeaked out, the only thing you could really say as you processed what exactly just happened. Your mind was swimming with confusion — and anticipation — as he stood before you, legs pressing on either side of your knees and trapping you on the vanity.

“Improv,” he promised quietly in his telltale Irish accent, a sly wink appearing on his sharp features.

You bit your lip, nodded, and repeated your line. You trusted him to guide you — and the rehearsal — because, as mentioned before, he did these kinds of things often. If he thought you’d act better if you sat on the vanity, you’d sit on the vanity.

His hand then pet your hair, the other hand coming up to your chin and making you look up at him. “Whatever I want?” he murmured, back on track with the script.

You bat your lashes at him. “Everything. I’m yours.”

Now, this is where you thought Cillian would stop— because after your line came the kissing and the touching and the heavy petting: all things you thus far hadn’t filmed at all, because you couldn’t even get the dialogue out right.

Instead, he leaned down and began to press hungry kisses down your neck, making you gasp.

“What are you—“

“Shh,” he demanded softly, “it's all part of the scene, remember?”

You blinked dumbly, mouth opening and closing, unable to register a coherent thought or word. He said it was part of the scene but you’d read that script, and his teeth nipping lightly at your skin was not written anywhere within it.

But, you gulped down your thoughts, and belted out several more of your lines in tandem to his own. With his other hand gripping your thigh so tight you thought it might bruise, you were starting to think that maybe this was one of those lecherous late-night escapades you were dreaming of.

All you’d been doing was acting, like he’d asked, but still, you could see clear as day how that’d affect him— how easily it could be to succumb. After all, you were just barely restraining yourself from jumping his bones: how could you not, with his gorgeous face just inches away from yours?

Well, acting or not, you’d enjoy every minute of this.

When one of his hands began playing with the waistband of your shorts as he suckled on your pulse, that just right spot on your neck, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth.

However, the noise seemed to startle him; jumpshock him back to reality, and your suspicions became completely confirmed when he pulled away from you roughly.

“Fuck, I’m—“ a pained grimace washed over his features, looking you up and down like he just realized what he’d been doing. “I don’t know what came over me, I— shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

You stared at him, body disappointed at the lack of touch, watching him press his pink lips into a conflicted white line. “What - what d’you mean?”

His gaze coursed over your every feature, so intently you thought he was admiring your face. “I can’t— we can’t happen. Y’too young, you’re, you’re too…”

“Then we can stop. If that’s what you want,” you murmured coyly, hand coming up to pick a piece of thread off his thin shirt. “But only if you ask. C’mon, say it: I don’t want you and I want this to stop.”

He groaned, biting his lip. “Don’t do that. I can’t do that.”

“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side.

“Tease. Because you know I won’t tell you to stop. ‘Cause I won’t be able to fucking control m’self,” he grumbled, before pressing a desperate, deep kiss to your lips, pulling you off the vanity and continuing down your chest.

“Then don’t. Take me for everything I have,” you whined, following his every move and manhandling touch.

He breathed heavily between kisses. “Saying those kinds’a words with that pretty voice of yours… fuck, you’re doing things to me.”

Your hands were trailing all over his body, and then you tugged his shirt off, desperate to feel him. He had similar thoughts, fingers dipping into your silk shorts and petting your hot mound.

“Need you,” you panted, and, at your words, he suddenly tore off your silk shorts and panties in one clean go, making you shiver.

He then sat down on your vanity chair and roughly grabbed you by the hips to place yourself onto one of his thighs. The thick fabric of his sweatpants, taking in your wetness like a sponge, made you wince.

“Go on then,” he demanded darkly, “get y’self off on my fucking thigh. Show me how bad you need me.”

You bit your lip, face burning with shame at the order. But there was an aching need in your gut, and the way he crossed his arms, watching and waiting for you to get the hell on with it, had you clenching around his thigh.

Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, and you began slowly rutting against him, the soft fabric of his pants doing poor work for pleasuring your core. You pressed your face into his shoulder, screwed up at the lack of friction.

“Can’t do it,” you whined, “Please.”

He rolled his eyes. “You said you needed me. You’ve got me,” he gestured to his thigh, “so get to work.” Then, he suddenly flexed, making an unwarranted mewl leave your mouth.

You wanted nothing more than his fucking cock, but here you were, pathetically pleasuring yourself on his thigh until he allowed otherwise. You nodded resignedly, and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, starting to set a steady pace of grinding down on him, slowly building up the heat within your insides.

You were moaning now, vigorously dragging your hips against him harder, needier, feeling the pressure in your cunt grow hotter and more rampant.

“Y’hear that?” He asked, one of his fingers tilting your chin back up to face him. “D’you even realize how fucking delicious you sound, all needy f’me?”

You nodded, but weren’t really paying attention: you were closer than ever, just moments away from falling off the edge— when Cillian stopped you.

“Stop,” he spoke, voice filled with sheer lust, and you whimpered at the abrupt loss of momentum. Then, he got up, holding you against him by the waist, looking down at his sweatpants. “You made such a mess… soaked all over m’pants.”

You didn’t — no, couldn’t respond to his musings, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to return friction to your needy pussy, biting down on your lip to muffle your breathy pants.

He noticed this, however, smirking and quickly pressing you stomach down onto the vanity. You caught a glimpse of yourself for the first time since your shower, and you flushed with shame: your eyes were heavy-lidded and dilated, lips pink and slick with drool, your brows in a perpetual knit.

You looked fucking filthy, and when you felt Cillian press his thick head to your entrance, something you hadn’t noticed he’d pulled out, too enraptured in your dirty expression, you shut your eyes.

You were suddenly so much more aware of the situation: you’d fucked yourself silly on your co-stars thigh, the co-star who was twice your age. He now knew you weren’t a talented aspiring actress, no, you were just a desperate little thing begging to be fucked.

“Hey, hey,” He tutted in mock-disappointment, “open your eyes, and fucking watch yourself. It’ll be good for our scene.”

You whimpered helplessly, obeying him and fluttering your eyes open, as he pushed his cock past your dripping folds inch by inch.

“Oh my god,” you cried out when he finally pressed all the way in. You felt so full, stretched to the brim with his hardened cock, so deep his balls touched your sticky clit.

“So fucking wet,” he commented, chuckling darkly behind you. You were totally slick, helping him enter you faster, but his cock was still a foreign intrusion to your inexperienced cunt: you were young, and had never been the type to “get around” — at least not with the intentions of getting fucked so much you could take any length of dick easily.

You clenched around him, a groan leaving his mouth at the increased pressure around his cock, and he snapped into you, making you bounce forward as your lips parted with a sweet moan.

You’d been focussed on his face, in the mirror, but Cillian’s hand suddenly tangled through your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and lifting your head to face yourself. “I told you to fucking watch yourself,” he spat, gripping your hair tightly. “you’re the reason we can’t wrap up, so do your job and fuckin’ practice.”

With that, Cillian started pounding into you, digging the rough pads of his fingers into your hip, and you would’ve protested such a fast progression — having been given barely any time to get used to his long cock — but your expression was even worse than before, if that was even possible.

Your mouth was open, tongue out and panting like a fucking dog, your lustfully sticky spit spilling down your chin to your chest, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head with each hearty thrust Cillian delivered you. The sounds you were making weren’t helping your embarrassment either, all unintelligible mewls and needy whines for his cock.

“You’ve wanted me for so long, haven’t you? I always knew what a filthy desperate girl you were, pressing up against me during shooting… those naughty hands on my thighs,” he snickered.

“Needed you in me so bad,” you whimpered, nodding enthusiastically, barely able to register what you were doing now with the pleasure washing over you and clouding your senses. Your back was arching into him, sucking in his cock and never wanting him to leave despite the mind-breaking ecstasy that was coming from his pounding.

“Just look at your dirty fuckin’ face… so pathetic.” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek; sweet and lovely, a stark juxtaposition to his unrelenting rutting and degrading words.

You whined at his words, but you knew they were true: you’d never seen yourself get fucked, always too busy with, well, getting fucked, but seeing yourself in the mirror like this had you unexpectedly hotter than before. There was just something about it, your face unabashedly contorting around the pleasure, Cillian’s hands snaking up your body as he rammed into you in the background.

Kind of like your own personal porno, you thought offhandedly, and you wondered how it’d affect you if you filmed yourself. Hopefully, with Cillian.

His other hand then came up to your folds, spreading them apart so he could see himself disappear into your hole. “Fuck, your cunt’s so perfect,” he growled, his head falling back, losing himself in the pleasure.

The orgasm building in your gut wasn’t like the one when you’d been grinding down on his thick thigh, no, it came faster, making you sweat and your knees shake. You wanted more, and you gasped out “faster,” and “harder,” to Cillian, needing him in the stick spongy spot deep in your cunt.

“Please,” you begged without any expectation of a real answer or action, “please, Cillian, please.”

He did go faster, though, to your apparent shock, both hands coming to your thighs to steady himself. “So needy,” he grumbled, pushing himself deeper and more swiftly into you, feeling how deliciously your fleshy walls tightened around his new pace.

With that, your high came just as quick, hitting you like a fucking freight train and making you scream out his name. Your orgasm wrecked you, made your vision go white and your thoughts stutter to a complete halt, and you vaguely made out Cillian’s proud hum, whispering “Good girl,” in your ear.

When you came to, your head was hanging low, your eyes blown out, lips puffy. Cillian was still thrusting into your worn-out pussy, but it was more jilted, shaky and needy.

“Come in me,” you pleaded suddenly, gripping the vanity to keep your trembling legs up, “fill me up, please, make your come spill out of me.”

“Good god, girl,” he groaned, pounding one last thrust into you before letting go, his cock pulsing around your wet core. He was pressed up to you so deep you could feel him shoot his load right into your cervix, and you grinned weakly, a sweet image of you: knocked up with his kid, your cunt so young and fertile you’d get pregnant from just about anything from him, entering your mind.

After a moment, he slipped his softening cock out of your filthy cunt and picked you up by the waist to set you down on the vanity and keep you from falling onto the floor.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. You then bit your lip, feeling his thick load of creamy come ooze out of your used hole onto your vanity.

He noticed too, letting out a satisfied groan, spreading your legs lightly, before collecting himself on his finger and pushing his come back into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he reiterated, going back to being sweet and petting your hair, doting on your weak form, looking deep into your eyes.

You swooned at his delicate actions. “Is this a good time to say I like you?”

He laughed, all adoringly. “It’s as good a time as any. I like you, too, if it’s any consolation.”

“But you, y’know… you said I was too young,” you reminded him, frowning slightly.

He sighed, gaze drifting away nervously for a moment before coming back to you. “That I did, but, well… if you wanna take this old man for a ride before I keel over,” he shrugged.

You couldn’t help the laugh that belted out of you, his words so ridiculous and completely not based in reality. “Oh, sure,” you said, shaking your head, lips still in an amused tilt, “you’re mine, old man.”

Before he could speak, probably say another stupid joke, your hands wrapped around his neck and you pulled him toward you, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips.

“I like you like you, okay?” You whispered, sounding incredibly juvenile but twice as heartfelt, your tone wavering and self-conscious. You were bearing your heart on your sleeve here, okay, acknowledging feelings you thought should never come to light.

His hands came up to your face, gently holding you. “Good thing I like you like you, too.”

ii.

“Cut!” The director called, and you swore you felt your heart drop to the floor. Fuck, you thought, mind racing, what went wrong this time? Was it the kissing, or the hands in the hair?

However, the director came up to you and Cillian and let out an uncharacteristic shriek of delight. “Perfection,” he said simply, bordering on catatonic with how content he was.

Your shoulders slumped with relief, and you leaned into Cillian, who was subtly dancing his fingers across your thigh. “It’s finished?” you asked, breathless with excitement.

The director nodded. “That was electric, needy, tense, delicious, passionate, so, so passionate,” he continued with a gasp, hands clasping together tightly. “You are two of the most amazing actors I have ever worked with— you are incredibly talented, so convincing I’d have thought you did sleep together.”

You preened at his praise, but not without looking up at Cillian, meeting his gaze and barely keeping your expression happy and neutral and not at all warm at the thought of the other night's events.

As the director went off rambling about the utter masterpiece the movie was to be, Cillian trailed behind you off the set, murmuring lowly in your ear, “I guess practice does make perfect.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy rpf #cillian murphy x reader smut

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cherrieflavouredheadcanons · 7 months

Note

Sorry to send you another request, but I just got hit with this sudden brainrot:

Could I get short headcanons of how the dorm leaders would do for the orange peel theory?

I was so into writing this, that I accidentally made it with the overblot gang (aka Jamil and not Kalim) and didn’t notice until I was done😭. I hope that’s okay, but if you want a Kalim one (or any others) just send in another request! Also these ended up way longer than i intended... But I hope you all enjoy them nontheless!

Orange peel theory

Characters: Overblot gang CW: None, just fluff, established relationships, Reader is the prefect

Riddle Rosehearts

You and Riddle were studying together, or rather, he was studying and you pretended to study as you were looking at the oranges on the desk.

Whenever you studied together Riddle places a bowl of fruits on the table for you two to snack on, they were usually always strawberries and many other berries but today an Orange was included.

You remembered a trend from your world where people would ask their partners to peel an orange for them and it would show if they were willing to do small things for them, you smiled as you realised you finally had someone to test said theory out on.

Taking the orange into your hand you looked at it, and then at Riddle thinking for a moment before holding it out to him.

“Riddle, can you peel this for me please?”

The housewarden had been so focused on his studying that he got surprised when you asked him something, once he realised what you had asked he raised an eyebrow quietly wondering to himself why you couldn't do it yourself.

But he was raised to be a gentleman, and he honestly loved doing small things for you so he nodded and carefully peeled the fruit for you, making you smile.

Once you got the peeled fruit back you were amazed by how careful he peeled it, no white skin was seen anywhere anymore, and the pieces were all nicely separated.

Leona Kingscholar

Sitting in his room you stared at the Lion beastman laying on his bed, you knew he wasn’t sleeping yet by the way his tail flickered but he certainly was about to.

Ace had dared you to try the orange peel theory on Leona, more specifically try it when he was about to sleep and you agreed for some reason you can’t remember. He had given you an orange before you went to Savanaclaw to spend the night in Leona’s room.

“Hey…Leona?” Your voice was quiet as you asked, looking at your tired boyfriend.

“...mhm?” Well…at least he acknowledged you calling out to him. “...can you peel this orange for me?”

He lazily opened one eye, looking at you. “Can’t you do it yourself Herbivore?” His voice had a teasing tone in it, but he didn’t move a muscle.

You visibly deflated, granted you had expected such an outcome but still, it was kinda disappointing.

Leona sighed once he saw you looking disappointed and sat up. “Hand over the orange.” You perked up as soon you heard it and handed it over with a smile.

He peeled it and then gave you the orange along with the peels back. “Never ask me for anything again.” He said as he laid back down, but you knew he wasn’t serious. “Also come sleep with me once you eat your damn orange.”

His peeling job wasn't the best, and there was a lot of the white skin left on the orange and the pieces weren’t separated, but you were flattered that he still did it. And of course you cuddled up to him once you ate it.

Azul Ashengrotto

Sitting in the Mostro Lounge you were eating from a fruit platter Azul had brought you, a blush on his face as he sat it down in front of you.

Just as you were about to take a strawberry from it, Floyd suddenly put an Orange on it. “Heey Shrimpy, I have heard of this trend that couples do involving an orange and I wanna see you try it on Azul!”

You knew what trend he was talking about and were confused why he wanted you to try it on Azul, but he refused to say the reason at least until you actually did it. Knowing Floyd, you knew he would keep pestering you until you did.

Sighing, you grabbed the orange and made your way to Azul’s office as Floyd cheered you on.

Walking into the office you saw him working on some contracts. “Hey, Azul? Floyd gave me an Orange for my fruit platter, but it’s not peeled so could you maybe do it for me?”

Poor Azul did not expect you to suddenly be in his office, he got so scared he choked on his spit for a second, looking at you like you were a ghost.

“Angelfish! You can’t just come in here with no warning and scare me like that!” You did not say anything in return instead you held out the orange to him and looked at him expectedly.

“Expecting me to peel you an orange without me getting anything back? How preposterous” He had a blush on his face as he took the orange out of your hands, peeling it nonetheless. You smiled knowing he didn’t need you to give him anything back for peeling it. He handed you the peeled orange back, and you kissed his cheek as a thanks making the poor octopus blush even harder.

His peeling job was immaculate, with how well it was peeled you could think a robot did it, and of course he separated the pieces for you as well.

Jamil Viper

Sitting in the Scarabia lounge you were waiting for Jamil to come back from cooking a meal for Kalim, you wanted to join him and help him but he refused saying you should just wait in the lounge. You were scrolling through Magictok to pass the time a bit faster

As you sit there scrolling you notice the fruit basket sitting there. You remembered Kalim telling you that you can just grab whatever they are there to be eaten after all.

That's when you come across a video talking about the orange peel theory, you see people explain it and also try it out.

Not only does it make you crave an orange, but it also makes you wanna try the theory on Jamil. But you knew he had much on his plate already, having to make every meal for Kalim, so you decided against it. You were pretty sure that Jamil would do it if you asked him anyways.

You put your phone aside and go to grab an orange from the basket, looking for the best one. (They are all of the highest quality since Kalim brought them). Grabbing a nice big one you want to start peeling it.

That’s when suddenly it gets snatched out your hand, looking up to see who took your orange, ready to lecture them you see its Jamil. Wordlessly he starts peeling it.

You look at him confused, when did he come in and how did you not notice it? He could have said something at least instead of scaring you by snatching your orange. If he wanted one you would have given him one!

Just as you were about to ask him why he took your orange away and began peeling it himself, he held out a perfectly peeled piece to you, making you even more confused. “What? You wanted an orange right?" He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as you smiled at him and took the piece, as he continued peeling the rest of the orange for you and giving you piece by piece. You didn’t even have to ask him for it, which made you smile, thinking to yourself that you had in fact won the orange peel theory

Vil Schoenheit

He had invited you to his room for a self care night between the two of you. Skincare haircare and everything, of course all prepared by him. He can’t have you use the basic drug store products can he?

You sit in front of him, smiling as he carefully applies a cream to your face, his touch lightly tickling you. He scolds you for moving, but you can hear there is a slight smile in his voice.

As he applies the cream you realise it smells like oranges, which reminds you that you and Epel once talked about how Vil would do regarding the orange peel theory. Maybe now was a good time to try it out?

“Viiil…?” You ask in the most innocent voice you can. He doesn’t answer, instead he looks at you and raises one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows. “Do you think…you could peel me an orange?”

“Darling, it is nearly time for bed. I don’t know if an orange now is such a good-” He couldn’t finish his sentence as he saw how you gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

With a sigh he got up and said “Fine, but only if you promise to brush your teeth right after so we can go to bed, I am not sacrificing my 8 hours of sleep just because you want an Orange.” And with that he left for the Pomefiore kitchen.

Giddily you sat on his bed, texting Epel the result of the orange peel theory, poor Epel was so shocked that his housewarden agreed to peel you an orange so short before his sleep time.

Before you could answer anything back to the first year, Vil came back in the room with orange slices on a platter.

The slices were peeled beautifully, and rearranged symmetrical next to each other. Just as you were about to grab the plate, Vil pulled it out of your range and gave you a sly smirk. He picked a slice up and held it to your mouth, obviously alluding that he would feed them to you which made you flustered.

Idia Shroud

You and him were in his room having a gaming session together. Though you needed a short break so you let Idia play alone for a bit.

Sitting on his bed, you sipped some water just silently watching your boyfriend, thinking about your relationship and smiling at the many small things he does for you.

Well small to everyone else, but you knew how much it scares him to do some things, so those ‘small’ gestures meant the world to you.

As you were thinking about small gestures, you remembered the orange theory and thought why not try it on your boyfriend? It wouldn’t prove anything, whether he said yes or no, he proved enough that he would do small things for you, but you wanted to do it for fun.

“Hey Idia?” You called out to him, waiting for a sign from him that he had heard you. Still looking at his screen he gave you an affirmative nod and asked “What’s up?”

“I kinda feel like an orange.” You said, looking at him expectantly to see what he would say next. You could see him stop his movements both in real life and in game which concerned you. “...Idia..?” Pausing the game he slowly turned around and looked at you, a confused look on his face.

“...like…emotionally?” He asked in the most serious and confused tone you could imagine.

You could tell from his face he was sincere when he asked and wasn’t messing with you. For a second you could not believe what he had asked you, it felt surreal. But then you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. You wanted to say something but your laughter stopped you from doing so, instead you fell backwards on his bed, laughter never dying.

Idia now was even more confused, why were you laughing? That's when he realised what you actually meant, and began blushing furiously, his hair now a shade of pink. He wanted to crawl in a hole and die, but…if you really wanted an orange (and promised not to mention it to anyone ever) he would peel you one…

Malleus Draconia

Malleus had invited you to a meeting of the Gargoyle Research society (as if those meetings aren’t just him walking alone through the school). And of yours you agreed.

He was holding your hand as he led you along the school grounds, telling you facts about all the different Gargoyles.

You listened intently, smiling at him and asking him questions every now and then to show him you were interested in what he was telling you, which made him happy and tell you more enthusiastically.

Though at one point you began craving some food, which got you to thinking, how would your boyfriend react to the orange peel theory? You couldn’t imagine him denying you an orange, but you also couldn’t see him peel one? Maybe it was because of his royal status..

“Hey Hornton?” You asked him and he looked into your eyes, his gaze gentle. “Yes, my child of man?” “Do you think you could get me and peel me an orange? I am kinda craving one…”

He looked surprised at first and then began quietly laughing “Fufufu..I already knew you were special, yet here you are proving it once again, asking the future king of Briar Valley to prepare you some food.” He closed his eyes and smiled “Just wait here my dear and I will fetch you what you want”

You smiled at him and nodded, and he teleported away, only leaving his firefly like lights behind.

Sitting down on a bench you waited for him to come teleport in front of you again. But when he was gone for nearly 10 minutes you slightly began to worry…did Lilia somehow end up cooking something once he learned you wanted some food and Malleus wanted to save you from it? Or was-

Just as you were about to keep thinking about it, Malleus appeared back in front of you…With a massive bowl full of orange slices in it. You gawked at the sheer amount, how was one human supposed to eat all of that? “Child of man, I did not know how many you wanted, so I told Sebek to fetch me every Orange he could find, and then peeled them all by myself.” He was so proud of himself, that you couldn’t help but smile but still wondered what to do with that many Oranges…maybe some of the other first years would want them?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst headcanons #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #leona kingscholar x reader

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months

Note

Hey I have a request!!

Capitol!Reader is from a rich and wealthy family which makes her an eligible wife for Snow who is in his second year as president which makes him 24. Reader is just about to turn 18 and she’s still in the academy. She’s being forced into a marriage the moment she is of age (18) but she very much dislikes Coriolanus. She is forced to hang out with him but she is sometimes a brat to him because she loathes him, she does not love him. The day she turns 18, Snow waits outside of the academy for her with white roses but she gets furious that he’s at her school infront of everyone and everyone now knows that they sale courting each other. She causes a scene (up to you what happens) and snow becomes incredibly mad at her. Honestly would love to see dark!coriolanus.

Thank you! Btw I love your fics sm 😭 I’ve been here since you started writing house of the dragon fics!

Fallen Roses || Young President! Coriolanus Snow x Capitol!Reader

A/n: Thank you so much for this request! And thank you for sticking with me through my changes 😂

Warnings: possessive snow?

Wc:

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“He’s in his second year as President, and he needs a wife. You are perfect for it, y/n.” Your mothers whispers harshly to you as you sat there, arms crossed, looking to the side. You had been called out of High Biology and into Dr. Gaul's office.

"I don't want to be his wife! I don't even know him!" You argue back to your mother as her face stiffens and her eyes darken. You gulp. "Listen here, daughter. When you turn 18 in a couple of days, you will marry President Snow whether you like it or not. You will have the honor of becoming the First Lady of Panem. Be grateful that you have this opportunity. Do not ruin this for us!" Your mother fires back.

Dr. Gaul sits across the desk from the two of you, watching as mother and daughter fight. "There is something you must understand Miss Y/L/N, Coriolanus Snow picked you himself to be his wife. That is the most highest honour he could ever give. You will live in the Presidential Mansion with him, not lift a single finger, and bask in your riches-" You loudly scoff.

"Hell sounds better than that," You spat in annoyance as you could see your mother shooting daggers your way from your peripheral vision. That was not the life that you wanted to have for yourself in the future. Your life right now was worse. You hated being the centre of attention; although that could never be avoided due to your high status, your parents, and your enormous wealth.

You were grateful without a doubt, but you'd rather give away your riches to people who actually needed it. You hated being forced into events, wearing outfits that were far too uncomfortable, making conversation about the weather and whatnot. It was not your cup of tea even though you were brought up with this kind of lifestyle your entire life. The thought of doing that all over again but as the second most important person in all of Panem? That would be absolute torture.

Dr. Gaul sighs, looking at your mother before closing her mouth again. You liked to argue and shut people up, and you were pretty darn good at it. "President Snow will be here shortly to meet you. I hope you show him the respect that he well deserves." She gives you a knowing look as you roll your eyes.

"Great," You mutter under your breath. The three of your all sat in his office in silence for a few minutes before the door opened behind you. Your mother and Dr. Gaul stand up to greet the President as you stayed sitting, staring at the wall behind Dr. Gaul.

"President Snow," Your mother greets him in her sickly fake voice that you hear every time you are at social events. "Coraline, lovely to see you again," You hear him say as you feel him move closer to you and your mother as he kisses her cheek.

"Dr. Gaul, always lovely to see you," He shakes her hand, "As to you Mr. Snow," She chuckles. Then it was silent. You were still sat in your seat. You could tell Snow was staring at you. "Y/n, it's lovely to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you." You lightly chuckle, turning your head to look up at him.

"Wish I could say the same," You remark, "Now can I leave? I really don't want to be missing out on the lesson," Your eyes move to your mother and Dr. Gaul. "Your schedule has been cleared for the whole day Miss Y/l/n, you will instead, accompany President Snow to his home," Dr. Gaul exaplains.

"What?" You sit up in your seat, hands gripping the arms tightly as they turn white. "You want me to be alone with him?" "You're going to have to get used to it, sweetheart." Snow chuckles behind you as you grip the arms even tighter, your knuckles turning white. "Y/n." Your mother sternly says as you let out a sigh from your nose.

"This is ridiculous, you can't force me into this!" You yell at your mother, "She can't. But I most certainly can. Now shall we?" Snow offers his arm as you stare at him in disbelief. You abruptly stand up making the chair screech against the floor and sling your bag over your shoulder.

Your heals click on the marble floor as you quickly leave the room. "I knew I would like her," Snow comments making your mother turn a slight colour of red from embarrassment. Students were still in their classrooms. The last thing you wanted was even more attention from everyone when they see you and the President together.

You make a sharp turn from the usual route to outside. "Where are you going?" Snow calls out as you turn to him, "Like hell I'm letting other people see me with you, alone." You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at him. He stands there, hands tucked into his jacket as he looks down, chuckling.

"Like I said, sweetheart, you're going to have to get used to it. You will be Panem's First Lady after all." He tilts his head at you. You kiss your teeth, letting your arms fall to your sides. "Yeah well I want to savour the final last moments of my freedom, so let me, yeah?" And with that you turn around disappearing from sight.

For the next couple of days, you had been forced into hanging out with Coriolanus. Whether it be having a meal with him in the presidential mansion, or him accompanying you as you are forced to go shopping for even more clothes. You had slightly warmed up to him, he could tell. But your disapproval of the whole situation was still there. Your attitude towards him was a clear give away.

Coriolanus quite enjoys your witty remarks. It entices him. Part of the reason as to why he picked you was that you hated your lifestyle and knew you had quite the tongue. He figured you were entertaining to tease. And of course, he found you the prettiest out of all the girls at the academy.

The dreadful day had finally come. You turned 18. Which meant that you could kiss your last ounces of freedom and happiness goodbye the minute Snow slips a ring on your finger. You had school that day. You figured you would be pulled out from your first class to meet with Snow but that was not the case.

Throughout the day you grew anxious by the second. You had yet to be pulled out. The bell rang indicating the school day was over and nothing happened. Did Snow pull out? Did he change his mind? You hoped it was the latter.

You pack up your things and wave goodbye to your friends as they all start to pour out of the main doors of the Academy. From afar you could see a small crowd forming. You make your way towards the crowd and was horrified to see Snow leaned up against a car, a bouquet of white roses in one hand.

"Mrs. Snow," He smirks the second he sets eyes on you as the crowd around you gasp in shock. You felt pure rage and hatred towards the man standing in front of you. You storm closer to him, yanking the flowers from his hands and throwing it on the floor. "Do not call me that," You spat, venom laced in your tone as Snow's eyes darken. He grips your upper arm as the peacekeepers open the car door.

Snow roughly pushes you inside the car as he slams the door. "You have been acting like an ungrateful little brat. Show some fucking respect to your husband." He grips your chin as your eyes begin to water. "You are not my husband." You say as he grips your chin even tighter making you wince. "I will be, whether you like it or not, darling." He smirks at you, all you wanted to do was wipe that stupid smirk off his lips.

You push him off of you as you sit furthest away from him. A tear rolls down your cheek. This was going to be your life from now on. "First thing you should now about being Panem's First Lady." Snow turns his head towards you, his hands roll up his sleeves, "Do not. Refuse. My flowers. Clear?" You don't say anything.

"I said, do I make myself clear!" He yells as you flinch. You tore your eyes away from the window. "Crystal clear." You choke out as he grins in satisfaction. "Good."

#coriolanus snow #president snow #the hunger games #the hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow imagine #imagine #the hunger games fanfiction #tbosas #tbosas imagine

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kestisvrse · 7 months

Text

you don’t know me

pairing ⋆ spidey!luke castellan x gn!reader au. fluff with a bit of angst. friends to lovers.

synopsis ⋆ spider-man appears at your window for help, and accidentally reveals his identity.

warnings ⋆ blood descriptions, stitching, swearing, stranger danger tbh, bit dramatic(?), kinda rushed i apologize | wc: 2.5k

a/n ⋆ i hate the ending of this so feel free to not read it😭😭

♫ - jackie and wilson by hozier

1:33am

it was hard trying to stay awake at this time, sound of the rain against your window and the soft snores of your roommates made it was easy to focus on closing your tired eyes instead of looking over all the notes scattered on your desk, it seemed nothing could stop you from drifting off to the peaceful place despite the thought of your sore neck in the morning from being slouched over your desk, but three taps against your window made your eyes shoot open.

he regretted it immediately, as he watched your head rise from the desk, but what else could he do? he gripped his side as he watched you mumble to yourself at the sight of spider-man on your fire escape, but you quickly opened the window.

“what the fuck?” you whisper at the sight, the heavy rain began to cover your window sill and floor but you didn’t even notice.

“hi, um i know this must seem very odd..” the superhero in front of you trailed off as you let him in, “shit, i’m bleeding on your carpet.”

“what- oh shit!” you gasp, noticing the giant gash he gripped on his torso, without a second thought you grabbed his hand and dragged him into your private bathroom, pushing him to sit on the toilet as you rummaged in your cupboards, as you pulled out a first-aid kit, you rummaged for supplies, “can i ask why the hell spider-man is bleeding in my bathroom right now?”

“i- i lost a lot of blood, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to my place in time.” he lied, “not to sound creepy but i saw your light on and.. and i needed help.”

“can you take the top half of your suit off?” you ask, washing your hands, as if you hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. he nods, unzipping the back and removing his arms from the sleeves, letting the suit rest at his waist, his mask still hiding his identity, “this will hurt.” you warn, even though he had definitely experienced worse than a wound being wiped down.

but still he winced, clenching his jaw, as you realized it wasn’t just a cut, he had been stabbed.

“thank god you stumbled across a med-students dorm.” you mumble to yourself, trying to lighten the mood as you get ready to stitch his side together, as he went to laugh at your comment he was interrupted by a groan of pain emitting from his throat.

“i know it hurts, but try to be quiet. if you wake clarisse, my roommate up, she will not make this situation any better.” you say, luke holds back a laugh knowing it was definitely true, he bites down on his lower lip as you stitch him up. luckily it was a shallow cut,.

you worked in silence, occasionally broken up by strewn out swears and winces from the superhero, biting your lip in concentration. as you tied together the final stitch you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“okay, the hard part is done.” you informed him, wiping down any excess blood that stained his skin.

“thanks.” he mutters weakly, moving to adjust his posture but immediately freezing as pain shoots up his body.

“stay still.” you say, “i still have to bandage it.” pulling out medical tape and gauze out of your medical bag, he felt as your hands occasionally slipped off the white bandage and touched his stomach. the pain almost subsided as the feeling of your fingertips burned into him. wrapping the bandage around his torso and taping it down you lean back on your knees, letting out a sigh.

he focuses on you as you stand, washing blood off your hands in the sink before cleaning up your supplies, you glance at him catching him staring, as he pretends to admire your bathroom as if he hadn’t been in here before.

“um-“ he clears his throat, “sorry for bleeding on your floor.” he mentioned, guilt evident in his voice.

“s’okay, i didn't like that carpet much anyways.” you say, which was a lie. luke remembered vividly how happy you were to get what you called, ‘the best rug ever’ for your room, his brows furrow.

you lean back against the bathtub, letting out a sigh, he goes to move but you nudge him with your foot, “don’t go just yet, won’t be good to swing on new stitches.” you explained to him, as he leaned back against the back of the toilet.

his breathing was sharp and inconsistent as his stomach stung in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, “the only thing i have for pain is like advil and tylenol. i don’t know if that helps with stab wounds though.” you spoke up, he shakes his head in response.

“i’ll be fine, just- just need to catch my breath.” to which you nodded in response.

“can i get you water?” you suggest, quickly standing as a ‘please’ is heard from under the mask, him suddenly noticing the scratchy and dry feeling of his throat. you rush out the room, tiptoeing into the kitchen to grab water for the superhero, as you return and hand it to him, you spin around so he can remove his mask.

his face was red as he watched you carefully, slipping his mask above his nose to gulp down the glass. scared you’d spin around to discover it was your friend bleeding out in the bathroom.

but you didn’t, as he pulled the mask back down and placed the cup on the counter, is when you turned and returned to your spot on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest.

he begins to shuffle uncomfortably on the toilet, breathing harder as his back slouched and his body tensed. the bandages felt tight on him, as he resisted the urge to rip them off, he was quickly distracted as you kneeled in front of him, placing your hand on his exposed wrist.

tingles shot up his body at the feeling of your skin against his again, it felt so odd, knowing he had hugged and brushed past you so many times but this was different, every touch had him blushing as butterflies flew around his stomach, he didn’t know you felt the same way, but with luke, not spider-man.

“control your breathing, your pulse is out of control.” you breathe, your pointer and middle finger pressed against his wrist feeling his pulse.

he began to focus on your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell while you seemingly seemed focused on the wall of the bathroom. he quickly matched his breathing with yours, sitting up straight as your hand pulled away from him.

“thank you, for helping me.” he stammered, suddenly self conscious of his voice, how hadn’t you recognized it?

“i mean, what else was i supposed to do? there was a superhero at my window sill.” you scoff in disbelief, “it’s fine, i mean, it’s the least i can do for you keeping me- uh new york, safe.” you clear your throat, staring at your hands that rest atop your knees. “can i ask you something?”

his throat dries, “yeah?”

“i mean- obviously don’t answer if it’s too personal or gives away your identity, but.” you tilt my head, “do you like… live a normal life during the day? or are you always spider-man?” you ask cautiously.

he pauses to think about his answer, narrowing his eyes at you, “oh yeah, i-i do have a normal life during the day.” he confesses, the hand that grasped his stomach moves to scratch the back of his neck.

“cool.” you reply, stopping yourself from question him farther.

“you aren’t asking any questions,” he stated quietly, almost in disbelief. as he spoke, he shifted his attention to your face. “i was expecting some like freaked out reactions. but you’re... you’re really chill about this.”

“you have a secret identity for a reason, i wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. you keep the city safe, and that’s all i need to know.” you shrug in response, staring at the white eyes of his mask.

“i mean it’s so crazy.” you say randomly, causing his head to tilt in confusion, “i’ve thought about it before you know, imagine one of my friends was a masked superhero.” he tenses, knowing that in fact it was true, “like my friend luke, he’s always disappearing at random moments.” his eyes widen but you don’t notice because of the mask, chuckling to yourself at the thought.

“yeah, imagine that.” he murmurs in response, suddenly very sweaty in stress.

“how’re you feeling?” you turn your attention back to him.

“still hurts a lot, but i should go now.” he explains, his hand on the counter to steady himself as he stands, “again, thank you so much.”

you walk to the window, opening it and helping him climb out onto the fire escape, “again” you repeat him, “it’s the least i could do.”

4:56pm

you yawn as you open the door revealing luke castellan, bag swung over his shoulder and hair messy from the wind, he gave you a lopsided smile, “ready to study?”

you shake your head as he enters your apartment, “i was studying all night, barely got sleep.” you respond, leading him to your room.

he just nods his head at you in response, cheeks growing hot, sure you were studying, before his alter ego stumbled through your window.

as he walked into your room, he immediately took notice of the spot of your carpet that had been rolled over, to cover the evidence of the blood stain. his stare lingered there, before quickly collecting himself to sit on your bed.

“i made these flashcards for you last night.” you break the silence, holding up pastel green cards, “ready to be tested, castellan?” you tease, plopping onto the bed and leaning against the headboard as he takes his jacket off.

“oh bless you for those.” he praised, comfortably laying down at the end of your feet.

“just admit i’m your favourite person.” you giggle, he rolls his eyes before encouraging you to begin.

thirty minutes past as you tested him, reaching the end before you would swap over, “alright” you clear your throat, “next- luke?” your gaze drifts up from the card.

“yeah?” he asked, waiting for you to continue.

“you’re bleeding.” you point at his shirt, he looks down to find his blue t-shirt slowly bleed red, dripping down his side. immediately, he reacted by pressing down as hard as he could against the wound, a small whimper escaping his lips in the process.

“what-“ you cut yourself off, to look up into his eyes, eyes widening in the process “no fucking way.”

he tore his attention away from his wound, blood seeping into your bed sheets, “i-“ in a flash you’re up from the bed, cards spilling onto the floor as you yank him up causing him to yelp. he sits down on the toilet as you rummage for the first aid kit, again.

“take off your shirt.” you demanded, and despite the surprise this brought him, he didn’t resist. he removed his shirt almost immediately, revealing the bloody coated bandages.

you stared at his chest, the fact that it was the exact same as spider-mans made you wanna scream, but you held back, removing the bandages and staying quiet to patch him up, too scared to speak.

luke stayed silent, staring at you with sad eyes, praying you would forgive him. he winced every so often at the sting of you restitching some stitches that came loose, and rewrapping his stomach with fresh gauze.

your lips pursed together as you washed your hands, refilling the same cup from last night with water and placing it beside him before walking off into your room. luke quickly tugs hair shirt back on, ignoring the blood stain and the pain that shot up his body at the sudden movement, before going to stand in front of you in your room, “i’m sorry.” he whispers.

“you could have died, and it would have been my fault.” you remarked, “can you imagine? spider-man dies in my bathroom and i take his mask off to reveal my best fucking friend.” you scoffed, tears covering your waterline.

his expression softened, as he nudged your foot with his, “but i didn’t.”

“but you could have!” you yell, shooting up to stand in front of him, “jesus luke, this is what you’ve been doing all year? this is why you disappear all the time?” he stares at his shoes as you rub your forehead.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, a sad expression covering his face, as he blinked rapidly, “i’m sorry for putting you through that. i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“you-you’re spider-man.” you gasp out, in disbelief. your hand clutches your chest as tears roll out onto your cheeks. his hand brushes your bicep as you flinch.

“yeah… yeah i am.” he sighs, guiding you to sit back down on your bed, “i wish i hadn’t come here last night but- i wouldn’t have been able to stitch that up myself.” he sighed as you sobbed into your hands.

“you could have died.” you choke out, repeating yourself before falling into his side, almost on instinct he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. he knew you wouldn’t respond well if he had ever told you, but he hadn’t thought about how you would feel to him almost dying in your bathroom.

“i’m okay. i promise.” he breathed into your hair, but you just shook your head in response, unable to respond as you tried to catch your breath.

“i don’t care if i am fast asleep, if this ever happens again, you come to me luke, i stitch you up.” you begged, looking up to him teary eyed.

his gaze softens looking at you but nodded in response, “okay, i promise.” his hand hovers over you neck, “i didn’t want to put you in danger or worry you. i would have told you. i was also scared you wouldn’t… wouldn’t look at me the same” he whispered.

“you’re still luke castellan, i still will like you no matter what, you just… you scared the shit out of me.” you sputtered out, not thinking about what you were saying to the boy in front of you, his body tensed.

“like me?” he asks, brows furrowed to see if you meant as friends or.. as more. he got his answer as he watched your eyes widen slightly and you began to stutter, “you… you like me?”

“what- no i meant-“ you shake your head so hard he thought it might spin off, and so he took his chance. the hand that hovered over your neck held your face still as he connected his lips with yours.

you found yourself unable to kiss back in shock, he heats up in embarrassment as he began to pull away, which brought you to your senses as you pulled him back down to press a soft kiss against his lips.

he pulled away for air, leaning your foreheads against each other.

“i can’t believe i accused you of being a secret superhero, while infront of you last night.” you mumbled, as he just laughed in response and shook his head.

“i promise to be more safe, just for you.” he said, leaning in to peck your lips.

#sienna’s fics #luke castellan x you #luke castellan au #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo au #pjo x reader #spiderman #spiderman au #luke castellan as spider-man #percy jackson #percy jackson au #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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luvjunie · 1 year

Text

— matching nails

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

summary: you ask miles if the two of you can paint your nails a matching color. wc: 476

contains: fluff, slightly posessive!miles

word bank: “princesa” - princess

you’re seated sideways in your boyfriend’s lap with your legs hung over his, trying— and failing to convince him to participate in a cute couple’s idea you found on tiktok.

“hell no.” the rejection comes even faster than you’d expected, a glum frown turning the corners of your lips downwards. you pout up at miles disappointedly, who is somehow still unmoved by your used-to-be undefeated persuasion tactic.

“but-“ you start.

“nah, no way princesa.” he interjected firmly, his fingers warm where they rested, curled over the skin of your exposed waist just beneath the hem of your crop top. “trippin’.” his chuckle lacked a single shred of humor.

you huffed, arms crossing and eyes rolling. “it’s just nail polish, miles, it’s not that big of a deal. you don’t wanna match with me?”

“shit, we can match some jordan’s. just lemme know what pair you want.” he snorted, finding your little tantrum adorable.

he obviously wasn’t taking you or your idea seriously, so you simply shrugged your shoulders and sighed dramatically. “fine, i’ll just ask someone else to do it with me then.” you mumbled, moving to stand up as you reached towards the desk for your phone.

“who?” his brow quirked, the vagueness of your statement piquing his interest almost instantly.

“chris.” you stated casually, his hand dragging down your hip as you moved out of reach.

“chris?” he parroted, the sound of the name drawn out in disbelief as it expelled from his mouth. the drastic change in his expression paired with the incredulous tone of his voice was comical, and you had to restrain yourself from laughing at his reaction to the mention of your made-up-guy-friend. “who the hell is chris?” his two braids draped over his shoulders when he sat up, forearms perched on his basketball short-clad thighs as he suspiciously watched you unlock your phone without answering him.

he kissed his teeth and impatiently leaned forward, his pointer finger hooking onto the belt loop of your jean shorts to swiftly yank you back over to him. with a squeal you stumbled back into his lap, your phone snatched from you at the speed of light and tossed over onto your bed a few feet away, your mouth slightly agape and hands still in the shape of what they were previously holding.

“you play too damn much.” his voice was low, brooding as he stared daggers into your eyes. “so who’s your lil’ friend? chris, right? he go to your school? you never mentioned him to me before.” once the questions started coming and his head tilted to the side with that familiar glint in his eye, you knew better than to keep the gag going, even if it was fun to see him squirm.

you shifted in his lap as your legs swung back and forth, an attempt to distract him from the playful smirk that threatened to expose itself on your expression, but he saw it anyway as you quickly shook your head. “no, baby, i was just kidding.”

“aw yeah, that’s what i thought.” he huffed out what was meant to be a laugh, sizing you up with a brief warning glance. you could tell he was thinking it over, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek when he glanced away, and a smile slowly grew on your face as he exhaled a heavy sigh. you always got what you wanted.

“show me the color you want us to do, mama.”

— extra scene

a/n: nah cause just imagine miles leaving with his uncle for a job, and as he goes to slide his mechanical gauntlet on, Aaron catches a glimpse of his nails and is like ??? 😭 imagine getting your ass handed to you by the prowler and bro has hearts painted on his nails

“hold on, lemme see your hand.”

it’s not like he had a choice, seeing as his uncle was already reaching for his wrist. miles wanted to stop him, but he knew it was no use, his hand limp in his uncle’s hold as it was pulled forward and brought closer for inspection.

“the hell you got your nails painted for, man?your girl made you do this or sum?” with an eyebrow raised he studied his nephew’s camouflaged expression, laughter tumbling from his lips when the boy grumbled a quiet ‘chill’, snatched his arm back and let his mask close over his face to hide the subtle tint of embarrassment blossoming on his cheeks.

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works to other platforms.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

#across the spiderverse #prowler miles fanfic #42 miles morales #prowler miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales fanfiction #miles x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles g morales #spiderman astv

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cowboybeepboop · 22 days

Text

Sugar

"I'm not finished proving my point, sugar."

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 6k

Summary: You’ve spent months avoiding the advances from Jake, finally deciding to give in to his desire and your own.

a/n: I just remembered how much I loved Glen in TGM and now I’m obsessed with writing for him 😍😭. I always take requests so send any you have my way. Hope you enjoy <3

Maverick took a liking to you the second he met you, as one of the aircraft maintenance technicians assigned to work with the fighter jets, he shows you and your coworkers immense respect. He always makes a point of telling his team that the technicians are the reason they are able to complete their missions.

Pete brings his group of rowdy aviators into your work space. You're spinning in your chair, your jumpsuit tied around your waist as you got too warm with the summer air. He chuckles lightly when he sees you, he was pretty amused by the sight. Seeing you with your jumpsuit tied around your waist as you spun around in your chair, you looked pretty cute, in a little sister sort of way.

“Hey Kid." his eyes lock onto yours as he steps closer.

“Oh,” you stand up awkwardly, adjusting your tank top. “Hi sir, what brings you here?”

"We were just briefing with the other aviators. Thought I'd bring them by to see the people who keep us flyin'." he smiles softly at you, causing you to relax slightly.

“Well, it’s a great pleasure to meet you all.” your face brightens as you address the rest of the pilots. “My name is Y/N,” your lips curve into a dazzling smile. The other pilots nod and greet you politely, but they're all distracted, unable to keep their eyes off of you. They all look you up and down, admiring your beauty. They didn't expect to see a woman working with aircraft maintenance, but here you were, clearly skilled at your job, if Mav is wanting to introduce them to you specifically.

One of them in particular was checking you out a lot more than the rest, staring at you through his aviators as he looked you up and down. The dirty blond haired man was definitely taking a liking to you more than the others as he leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

Maverick notices the way the Hangman is looking at you, and he doesn't like it. He can sense the man's desire from a mile away, and it makes him wary.

“Well, if anyone has any questions I’d be glad to answer them.” you slip your arms back into the sleeves of your uniform, taking a seat at your desk once again, eyes flicking over the paperwork in front of you.

As you looked up, Hangman's eyes met yours, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He couldn't help but be impressed by your dedication to your work.

Hangman pushed himself off the wall and sauntered closer to your desk, stopping right in front of you. "Hey there, sugar."

You give him a gentle smile as you're used to the flirting of the aviators. “Hey, do you have a question for me?”

"Oh, I think I've got a few questions." Hangman grins, his eyes looking you up and down slowly, taking in every inch of you. He leans forward, bracing one arm on your desk to get a better view.

He cocks an eyebrow, “But I might just get distracted by you before I ask them.”

“Is that so?” you gaze up at him with amusement.

"Yeah, you're just a little too distracting." he grins, a cocky look on his face.

His gaze drifts down to your exposed arms and lingers a moment, taking in your skin, before his eyes snap back up to your face. He smirks, "You know, a girl like you working in a place like this? Gotta say, it's a nice change of pace."

You stand up, leaning toward him as you smile. “You're a sweet talker blondie, but trust me. I’m not interested.” your voice is full of venom as your grin widens.

“I’m not a fan of aviators who are quite obviously making up for what they lack,” your eyes flick to his lap, “by keeping a cocky attitude towards any woman their eyes land upon.” you pat his shoulder softly as you turn on your heel, walking toward Mav.

Hangman stands there, stunned. He's not used to being told no, especially in such a blunt manner. His face hardens at the jab at his.. anatomy, and his smirk twists into a scowl.

Maverick stands nearby, watching how you handle the situation with interest. He's trying to keep his expression neutral, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips.

He knows Hangman's reputation, and he's glad that you were able to put him in his place. "Well done, Kid." he pats your back affectionately.

__________

A couple months have gone by since you met Hangman, you purposely try to avoid him, knowing that he's your exact type (an unnaturally attractive man who *knows* it). But it seems like the more you avoided him the more he sought you out. He always seemed to be lurking at the end of the work day, trying to get your attention, doing anything he could to be by your side.

Your coworkers press you, practically begging you to come with them to the bar. You agree to go with them to The Hard Deck, slightly annoyed at your choice in clothes as you're wearing a cropped t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, it’s going to catch some unsavory attention.

Your eyes land on Maverick as you enter the bar, your eyes brightening as you walk up to him, slipping into the seat next to him. “Good evening Sir.” you smile over at him.

Mav looks up from the book he was reading when you sit down beside him. He smiles warmly when he sees you. "Hey Kid. It's good to see you." He sets down his book, his eyes scanning over your outfit. He notices that your choice of clothing is a bit too revealing for his liking, and he can't help but feel a pang of worry.

"Have you been working hard today?" He asks, trying to keep the conversation nonchalant.

“You know it, I’m always working hard.” you order a beer before turning your attention back to the older man. Maverick raises an eyebrow as you order a beer, he takes a sip from his own drink, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You work too hard, you know that?" He says with a slight chastising tone. "You should take some time for yourself, relax a little." you laugh in response.

“It’s funny to hear you say that,” you take a drink of your beer, fumbling with the bottle. He watches you as you take a drink, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was used to seeing you in your coveralls, dirty from working on the planes all day, but now, with your shorts and cropped top, you looked like a completely different person.

"What can I say, kid," he says, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. "I'm just concerned about you, that's all. You're young, you should be enjoying yourself, not working all the time."

“Yeah, you're right.” your lips purse, “but it takes hard work to prove your value as an employee.”

Mav leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he gazes at you with a mix of admiration and concern. He can see the determination in your eyes, the desire to prove yourself in a field dominated by men.

"I understand that," he says quietly. "But you also have to take care of yourself. You're no good to anyone if you burn yourself out." you grin over at him, taking notice of your coworkers calling you over to the pool table.

Mav watches as your coworkers call you over to the pool table. He can see the excitement in your eyes, the way your lips curve into a smile.

"Go on," he says, gesturing towards your friends. "Have some fun. Just don't get too drunk, alright?" He adds, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Yes Sir,” you leave your seat grabbing your beer as you walk over to them. You immediately notice the eyes of Hangman on your body.

Hangman's eyes hungrily roved over your exposed skin, his gaze lingering on your thighs and the small bit of midriff that was visible. You could almost feel the heat of his gaze as you approached the pool table.

He leaned against the wall, a lazy smirk on his face as you joined your friends. As you took your place near the table, he pushed off the wall and sauntered over to you.

"Looking good, sugar." he drawled, his eyes flickering over your exposed body.

“Ah, Hangman? Is that right?” you glance over to him, your arms crossing over your waist.

"That's right, sweetheart." Hangman smirks, his eyes flickering down to your crossed arms, clearly noticing the way you're trying to hide yourself from him.

He steps closer to you, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils as he leans in. "Now, don't cover yourself up on my account. I like what I see." he purrs, his eyes traveling down your body again, his gaze lingering on your thighs.

“You're not gonna drop the act are you?” you sigh out, eyes narrowing as his cocky grin.

"This isn't an act, doll." Hangman's tone dropped lower, a hint of a challenge in his voice. He stepped even closer, his chest almost touching yours. "I mean every word I'm saying."

He reaches out, gently gripping your hip, his thumb brushing against the exposed skin at the edge of your shorts. "You're a sight for sore eyes, sugar." his touch sends shivers down your spine, desire pooling in your stomach,

You press your hand against his chest, pushing him into a seat roughly. “Your sweet talking won’t work on me, pretty boy.” Hangman grunts as he falls into the chair, slightly surprised by the forcefulness of your shove. He leans back, his eyes flickering over your form, taking in the way your body moves in your tight shorts.

"Oh, so you do have some fire in you." He grins, clearly unfazed by your aggression. "But I don’t think I’m going to give up that easily, sweetheart." his attraction for you seemingly grows at your assertiveness.

“Well, the same can be said for me.” your tone is cold as you move away from him, taking your place with your fellow technicians once again. Hangman's eyes never leave your form as you walk away, his gaze fixated on the way your hips sway in your tight shorts.

He can't help but admire your attitude, the way you refuse to give in to him so easily. It's a challenge, one that he's surprisingly enjoying. Hangman stays seated for a moment, watching as you join your friends over at the pool table. He takes a deep breath, his mind still focused on you and the way your body moved. There was something about you that made him want to push your buttons even more.

The night drags on and you find yourself calling it quits pretty early, you've never been attracted to the long nights spent in a rowdy bar. “Hey guys, I’m gonna head out.” you walk out the door after saying goodbye to your crew.

Hangman, who had been watching you all night from the bar, quickly sets down his drink and moves to follow you. He follows at a distance, wanting to catch you alone without the watchful eyes of your friends.

Just as you're a few steps away from the bar, he calls out to you. "Hey, Y/N, wait up." you ignore him and pick up your pace, heading toward the beach.

Hangman increases his pace in response, determined to catch up to you. Despite your attempts to get away, he manages to catch up fairly easily, his long legs carrying him closer to you.

He reaches out and grabs your arm to stop you, his grip firm but not forceful. "Hey, hold up a sec."

You turn to face him with an irritated expression, “What is it now?”

Hangman grins at the irritation in your voice, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. He keeps a grip on your arm, holding you in place.

"Now, that's no way to talk to me, sugar." His eyes rake over your body, taking his time to appreciate your form in the darkness. "I was hoping we could have a little chat."

“About what?” you wriggle out of his grasp, moving further into the sand. Hangman follows you into the sand, his confident stride matching your quick steps. He keeps his eyes trained on you, a sly smile on his lips.

"Oh, there's a lot I'd like to talk about." He steps closer to you, his presence feeling oddly dominant as the beach becomes quieter. "But right now, I wanna know why you're so opposed to my attention."

“What’s wrong?” your arms cross under your chest as you drop into the sand, breathing in the refreshing breeze. “Not used to someone being so.. Put off by you?”

Hangman chuckles, your question clearly amuses him. He plops down in the sand beside you, sitting close enough that his thigh brushes against yours, your eyes focus on his clothed leg against your bare one.

"You could say that." He turns to face you, his eyes roaming over your body for a moment before meeting your gaze. "Most girls are putty in my hands. But you, you're different." your eyes roll at his response.

“That, there is exactly why I’m so opposed to you,” you lean back on your palms, “Your cocky attitude can't always get you what you want.” Hangman's smirk widens at your eye roll, clearly enjoying the banter between you two. He leans back in the sand as well, mirroring your position.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, sugar. My cocky attitude has gotten me a lot of things." He glances over at you, his eyes roaming over your figure once again. "But you..." He pauses, his voice dropping lower. "You're the first one who's actually resisted me."

You lean back into the sand, body relaxing into the ground. “You're such an ass,”

Hangman grins at your response, clearly enjoying your sharp tongue. He turns onto his side, resting his head in his hand as he gazes down at you.

"I won't deny that." He lifts his free hand, reaching out to playfully tug on a strand of your hair.

“So, if I gave into you,” you brush his hand away, “would you leave me alone?” eyes focusing on the night sky above you.

Hangman raises an eyebrow at your question, his cocky smile never faltering. He props himself up on an elbow, shifting closer to you in the sand.

"Now, why would I want to leave you alone if you gave in to me?" His eyes roam over your figure, a hunger in his gaze. "I'd want you all to myself."

You laugh sweetly, “You really don't strike me as the type to stick around, Hangman.”

Hangman grins at your comment, clearly finding your dismissal more amusing than irritating. He scoots closer again, his breath warm against your neck as he leans in.

"The name's Jake." His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he whispers his name, his tone suddenly lower, more intimate.

“Well, Jake.” you sit up, moving away from his body. “I think you should find a new girl to chase.”

Jake's smile falters slightly as you move away from him, disappointment flickering in his eyes. But he quickly recovers, his cocky demeanor returning.

He sits up as well, he gazes at you, his eyes roaming over your defensive form. "And why would I do that?” he asks, his voice almost a grumble.

“Because,” you study his expression, “I told you before, I’m not interested.” Jake's eyes narrow as you reiterate your lack of interest. Your stubbornness is both frustrating and strangely intriguing.

He leans closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Are you sure about that, sugar?" His voice has a hint of challenge in it. "You don't feel even a little bit interested?"

You move to your knees swiftly, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. As you pull away, you smile sweetly, “Now I’m 100% sure.”

Jake's eyes widen at the unexpected kiss, his cocky veneer slipping momentarily. He's completely taken aback by your boldness and the sweetness of your smile.

He just stares at you for a moment, clearly caught off guard. His confidence slowly returns, and a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh yeah?" he purrs, shifting closer to you again. "One little kiss, and you're already 100%, huh?"

“One kiss is all I needed,” you push his shoulder gently, adding distance back between your bodies. “I didn't even feel a thing.” you gulp as the lie spills from your lips, there was no way you would give him the pleasure of knowing he had sent shivers down your body.

Jake's smirk falters again, his ego clearly bruised by your words. He can't understand how you're unaffected by the kiss, especially when it had the complete opposite effect on him. He stays silent for a moment, his mind working to come up with a response.

"One kiss wasn't enough," he finally says, his tone a mix of irritation and determination. "No, I think you need another one just to be sure." his hands grasp your hips as he pulls you closer.

“Aw, come on Jake.” you don't resist his touch, “You don't want to come to terms with the fact that you might just be off your game?”

Jake's eyes darken at your words, clearly not appreciating your teasing. He pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours, his grip on your hips tight.

"My game is never off, especially with pretty girls like you." He leans in, his mouth just millimeters from yours. "In fact, I think I'll prove it by making you feel something."

“And how do you plan to do that, pretty boy?” you tease him further.

Jake's grip on your hips tightens as you call him "pretty boy," and you can see a flicker of irritation flash across his face. He's clearly not used to being undermined like this, especially by someone he finds *this* attractive.

With a swift movement, he flips you onto your back, pinning you down into the sand. He hovers over you, his body pressing against yours.

"Like this," he says, his voice low and gruff. "I'll make you feel something alright." his lips capture yours in a hungry kiss full of desire.

You let out a muffled noise, obviously caught off guard by his action. Jake takes full advantage of your surprise, his tongue slipping past your lips, and explores your mouth with ravenous desire. His body presses against you, his weight pressing you into the sand, and his hands begin to roam over your body, mapping out your curves.

You press your hands against his chest, pushing him away with a flustered expression. Jake pulls back, his breath heavy and ragged, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and triumph.

He gazes down at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed face and slightly messy hair. "See, sugar?" he grins. "I told you I'd make you feel something."

“You.. didn't.” you protest, “all you did was catch me off guard.” Jake chuckles at your reply, his eyes flickering over your form again, taking in the way your body looks beneath him.

"So, you're telling me that right now, you're not feeling anything right now?" His hand slides down your side, resting on your hip. "Not a single thing?"

“Not a single thing.” you parrot, breathlessly. Jake grins at your response, clearly not believing you.

His hand that was on your hip slowly moves up to your stomach, his thumb tracing slow, teasing circles on your bare skin. “Is that right, sugar?” he drawled. “Nothing at all?”

You suck in a deep breath as his calloused thumb, giving you goosebumps. “Mhm, nothin’.” you murmur. Jake's smirk deepens as he watches your reaction to his touch. He notices your goosebumps and the way you sucked in a breath, he clearly knows he's getting to you.

His hand moves from your stomach up to your waist, sliding under the hem of your shirt. His fingertips graze against your bare skin. You gasp at his touch, your breathing becoming ragged as his hand explores you.

Jake lets out a soft, guttural sound as he feels the effect he's having on you. His hand continues to move, his fingers lightly trailing over your skin, tracing the lines of your body. His eyes never leave your face, taking in every reaction.

"Still not feeling anything, sugar?" he teases, his voice a low, rumbling growl. Your eyes squeeze shut as your expression contorts with pleasure, you lean forward pressing your flushed face into his neck.

Jake lets out a soft laugh as you bury your face into his neck, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. His hand continues to explore your upper body, his touch sending small waves of pleasure through you.

He turns his head, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers. "You're losing, sugar."

“You've made your point,” your voice is a shaky whisper as you pull his hand away from your body, still focused on resisting him.

Jake lets out a low rumble, clearly not happy that you've pulled his hand away. He gazes down at you, his eyes darkened with a mix of desire and determination.

He moves his body even closer, his weight pressing you into the sand. His hand grasps your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His voice is low and gruff as he speaks. "I'm not finished proving my point, sugar."

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you raise your head to look up at him, “Please don't screw me over,” you want him just as much as he wants you, but you're not looking for a simple one night stand.

Jake’s gaze meets yours, his eyes searching yours for a moment before a soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I won't," he says, his voice firm, his grip on your waist tight. "I’m done messing around, sugar. I want you for real."

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips hovering over his. Jake's arms wrap tighter around your waist, pressing you closer to his body. His gaze drops to your lips, his eyes darkening with desire.

"I won't hurt you, sugar." you connect your lips with his in a passionate kiss. Jake kisses you back with equal passion, his arms tightening around you, pulling you flush against him. His lips move hungrily against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you.

He pulls you closer, his hands roaming over your body, his touch claiming you as his. You moan against his lips as his hands squeeze your ass, pulling you closer to him. Jake smirks into the

kiss at your moan. He tightens his grip on your ass, pulling you closer, so close that you can feel his heartbeat against your chest.

He deepens the kiss, his mouth devouring yours, and his hands continue to roam over your curves, claiming every inch of you. You reluctantly pull away from his kisses, Jake grunts in protest as you pull away from him, his lips still seeking your skin. He nips playfully at your neck before leaning back to look at you.

“Jake, we should go somewhere a little more private.” you murmur softly as you stand, he follows you up.

"Yeah, somewhere more private," he agrees, his voice a low, gruff rumble. He slides his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. "I know a place."

“Lead the way,” your teeth capture your bottom lip as you look up at him. Jake grins at your words and the way your teeth graze your bottom lip. He squeezes your hand, his eyes darkened with hunger as he gazes down at you.

"Come with me," he murmurs, his voice edged with a hint of excitement. He begins walking, pulling you behind him, leading the way to a more private area.

“Where are we going?” you question while following close behind him. Jake looks back at you over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face.

"You'll see, sugar," he replies, his voice full of mystery. He continues to lead you through the base, eventually stopping in front of a door that leads to a small storage room. Jake looks around to make sure no one is watching before pulling you into the room with him.

Jake laughs softly at the surprised gasp that escapes your lips as your body collides with his. He locks the door behind him, sealing you both in the small storage room. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you closer to him, his eyes darkened with desire.

"Looks like we're all alone now," he purrs, his voice a low rumble. "Just how I like it." your hands slide up his shirt, fingers brushing over his strong abs.

“We’ll have to be quiet,” you whisper softly. Jake shudders slightly as your fingers roam over his abs, his muscles flexing beneath your touch.

Your words only further excite him, and he gazes down at you with darkened eyes. "Can you do that, Y/N? Keep quiet for me?" he teases, his grip on your waist tightening. You pull his shirt off, pressing soft kisses to his muscles.

“Can you stay quiet?” you mutter against his skin, sucking a soft mark into his collarbone.

Jake lets out a low, ragged moan as you pull off his shirt and press your lips to his skin, his eyes momentarily closing as he succumbs to your touch.

Your words send a shiver down his spine, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. "Is that a challenge, sugar?" he murmurs, his fingers grasping your hips tightly.

“Of course,” you suck another mark into his skin, your hands traveling down his stomach before landing on his erection. Jake's body tightens as your mouth moves against his skin, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. He shivers beneath your touch, his hands flexing against your hips.

When your hands move lower, he gasps softly, his eyes closing as his length stiffens against your touch. "Careful," he grits out, his voice strained. He moves, pressing your back against the wall, trapping you in his arms.

Jake's need for you is palpable as he desperately pulls away your clothes, his eyes never leaving yours. The cropped shirt is first to go, revealing your lacy bra. His fingers make quick work of the clasp, freeing your breasts to his eager gaze.

The look on his face is pure desire as he takes in your bare skin, his breath coming in short, ragged pants. His rough, calloused hands skim over your curves, sending waves of heat through your body as he pushes down your shorts and panties. The sand from the beach clings to your skin, but it's your own heat that you feel more intensely.

His eyes are dark with passion as he takes in the sight of you, fully exposed and vulnerable before him. The anticipation is almost unbearable as he trails kisses along your collarbone, down your chest, and over the sensitive peaks of your breasts. Each touch feels like a brand, claiming you as his own.

With trembling hands, you reach down to Jake's belt, pulling it open with a quiet jingle of the buckle. His eyes never leave yours as you unbutton his pants, sliding them down his hips, along with his boxers. His erection springs free, and he groans as your fingertips graze over it. You wrap your hand around him, feeling the heat and hardness of his desire.

The room seems to shrink around you as your breaths mingle, the tension between you thick with passion. Jake's hands glide over your bare skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touch. He steps closer, aligning his body with yours, his length pressing against your stomach as he nips at your earlobe. "Are you sure about this, sugar?" he whispers, his voice strained with need.

“Yes, please.” You moan out your own desire clouding any remaining doubt. He lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist, and you guide him to your entrance, the anticipation making your body tremble. With one swift, powerful thrust, he fills you, eliciting a soft cry from your lips.

The sensation is overwhelming, his thickness stretching and filling you in a way that no one else ever has.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, holding onto him as he begins to move, his hips driving into yours with a passion that matches the rhythm of his racing heart beat. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you bite down on your lip to stifle the moans that threaten to spill out.

Your eyes lock onto his, and in that moment, you realize that this isn't just about the chase anymore. There's something deeper, something raw and real connecting the two of you. And as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment, you know that no matter what happens after tonight, you've found something worth fighting for.

With the door to the storage room firmly locked behind you, Jake's passionate onslaught leaves you gasping for air. You muffle your moans by biting onto his shoulder as he thrusts into you with a newfound speed, his movements becoming more urgent and powerful with each passing second. His teeth graze the soft skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he marks you as his.

The sound of your bodies slapping together echoes softly in the confined space, mixing with the muffled sounds of the base outside. His muscles tense and release beneath your grip, his grunts of pleasure becoming more pronounced. The sand clinging to your skin is a stark reminder of where you are, but all you can focus on is the fire burning between your legs.

The scent of sex fills the air, and you can feel the heat of his desire for you, his need to claim you completely. His hands move to your hips, guiding your movements, urging you to meet his every thrust. The friction builds, a delicious pressure coiling in your stomach, and you know you won't be able to keep quiet much longer.

His eyes bore into yours, a silent question that you answer with a nod, giving him the go-ahead to unleash his full passion on you. And as the first wave of your climax hits, you let out a soft, needy cry that's quickly swallowed by his mouth, his own release not far behind.

Your bodies shudder together, clinging tightly as the intensity of the moment overwhelms you. For a brief second, you forget where you are, lost in the pleasure of his touch, the feel of him deep inside you.

Jake's body trembles as he comes down from his high, his heart still racing. He holds you close, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands continue to roam over your skin, his touch gentler now, a possessive yet loving caress.

His eyes are still darkened with desire, but there's a new tenderness in his gaze. He looks down at you, his lips finding yours in a slow and gentle kiss. Your fingers trace his muscles as you pull away for a breath, chest rapidly rising and falling. You reach for your discarded clothes, beginning to dress again.

Jake watches you as you begin to dress again, a faint frown of disappointment on his face. He leans against the wall, his eyes never leaving your body as you pull on your clothes.

“Can’t you just stay like that?” he teases, his voice gruff. You kiss his lips sweetly while buttoning your shorts.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smirk softly as he gazes down at you with pure desire.

Jake grins at your response, his arms encircling your waist once again. He can't help himself, the sight of you dressing is somehow unbearably seductive.

"You know damn well I would," he rumbles, his thumbs caressing the exposed skin of your waist.

His fingers move to pull at your shirt as he tries to undress you again. You playfully smack his hands away, “Won’t your coworkers be looking for you soon?” Your voice is a soft warning.

Jake frowns in disappointment as you swat his hands away from your shirt, a small huff of frustration leaving his lips. He knows you're right, and he knows that he needs to get back to work. But his body still aches for you, the taste of you still on his tongue.

"You're ruining my fun, Y/N," he pouts, his hands moving down to grab your hips instead. Jake's lips find your neck again, his mouth and tongue caressing the sensitive skin as he kisses and nips at your flesh. His body presses closer to yours, his hands pulling you flush against him.

He groans softly, his frustration at being interrupted clear in the sound. "Seriously, sugar. Can't I just stay here with you?" he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Mm, pretty boy,” you groan out the nickname you gave him, “I wish we could stay here, but if anyone needs in.. and finds the door locked,”

Jake growls softly in protest, his teeth gently biting your neck at your use of the nickname "pretty boy." He knows you're right, but he still doesn't want to leave.

"I hate when you're logical," he complains, his hands running down to grip your hips, pulling you closer to him. His lips find your ear, his voice a low, possessive murmur.

But his body aches for you, and he doesn't want to let you go. His mouth is still against your neck as his hands wander your body.

“We really should leave Jake..” you murmur softly while leaning into his intoxicating touch.

Jake lets out a deep, shaky sigh as you lean into his touch. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, committing your scent to memory. He knows you're right, but he doesn't want to admit it.

"I know, sugar," he mutters, his voice raspy and filled with reluctance. "But I'm not ready to let you go yet." His arms move around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

Before you can protest again, the familiar voices of his fellow pilots ring out from outside the door. “Hey, do you know where Hangman went?” Coyote questions the man he’s with.

“Nah no idea, last I saw he was following Y/N out of the bar.” Fanboy replies, their voices getting fainter as they pass by the door.

Jake freezes as he hears the voices of his fellow pilots outside the door. His body tenses against yours as he recognizes Coyote and Fanboy's voices. He lets out a low curse, his eyes darting to the door in alarm.

For a moment, he contemplates ignoring them and staying in the storage room with you but he knows that's not an option. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with reluctance as he mutters a curse. "They're looking for me..."

“Don’t make them search for too long,” you reply with a soft smile, your arms dropping from his warm body.

Jake's body immediately misses the feel of your touch as your arms drop from his body. He watches you with thinly veiled longing, his fingers itching to pull you back against him.

He sighs deeply, his shoulders slumping in resignation. He knows he has to go, but he doesn't want to leave you. He reaches out and gently cups your face in his hand, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

"Give me your number," he mutters, his voice thick with authority. You hand him your phone for him to put his contact information in, he presses a gentle kiss to your head before begrudgingly leaving you alone in the storage room.

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reallchristine · 2 months

Text

ENERGY ─ chapter one

pairing: logan howlett x !f!reader

Set during x-men (2000) and X2

warnings: angst, bad grammar?😭, basically the plot of the first movie!!!

-> next chapter

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You were only 15 when Charles found you after the accident, and you’ve only ever stayed with him since.

Once you grew older more students started to appear throughout the school. Which led you to be given a position as the chemistry teacher at the school.

As for being an X-men, that was a different situation. Unlike Jean, Scott, and Ororo. You were scared of the extent of your powers, therefore when Charles asked if you wanted to be a part of the X-men you kindly declined.

Now you sat at your desk in your classroom marking the last of the tests that you handed out earlier today.

You let out a sigh while swiftly checking off one of your student’s answers with a red pen. Suddenly you hear Charles's voice in your head, “Come to my room there’s something we need to discuss.”

You quickly put away the unfinished marked test in your folder as you head to Charles's room. “You wanted to see me?” you ask as you near the door walking in.

You look around seeing that Scott, Ororo, and Jean are already standing there in the room. “-and this is y/n. A teacher at our school for gifted.” Charles says, giving you a welcoming smile which you return.

An unfamiliar man you don’t seem to recognize stands in the middle of the room eyeing you.

You’re confused why Charles decided to call you to be here but you don’t ask, instead you turn to give a friendly smile towards the unfamiliar man. He doesn’t return the smile back and looks to the Professor behind him.

“you’ll be safe here from Magneto,” Charles speaks. “What’s a ‘magneto’?” The man asks. “A very powerful mutant who believes a war is brewing between mutants and the rest of humanity.” Charles continues “-the associate of his that attacked you earlier is called ‘Sabertooth’.”

“Sabertooth?” The man asks. A pause as he then turns to point at Ororo clicking his tongue. “Storm.” He pauses again and looks to Charles, “What do they call you? Wheels?” He lets out a dry laugh and turns towards where you and Scott are standing.

“Cyclops, right?” He spoke, grabbing Scott’s shirt and pulling him towards his face. “You wanna get outta’ my way?” you're shocked at this sudden act and so is Scott, who’s giving a certain look towards the professor.

Charles uses his telepathy on the man. He lets go of Scott’s shirt and turn’s his head to look around the room. Finally, the professor speaks out loud, “I can help you, Logan.”

Before the man could even answer, Charles turns to all of you.“You all can leave now. I will call again when needed.”

Walking out of the room, alongside everyone else. You stopped to talk to Ororo. “What was that all about in there?” You ask her.

She turns to you, “We found him with a girl named Rouge. The professor believes that he’s a part of Magneto's plan.” You give her a look and she continues to explain, “The professor wants your help with what’s going on.”

You stare at her for a moment and blink. “Wait do you mean ‘x-men’ type helping?” Ororo nods, “Charles believes that your energy powers can come to great use.”

“But I told him I felt like I wasn’t ready, which is why I kept declining his offer.” You shook your head while explaining this to her.

“But the professor believes you’re ready! C’mon y/n, you’ve been practicing to control your mutation since the day you met Charles.” You continue to listen.

“Look, just come test it out with us on the next mission, and I promise none of us will bug you about being a part of X-men again.” You stare at her, thinking of the offer.

“Alright, fine. But if something goes wrong-” she cuts you off, “y/n, you’re going to be great. Don’t worry.” She places a hand on your shoulder and gives you a reassuring smile. You nod at her action. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” She says. “Yeah, okay.” You smile and she waves goodbye heading down the other side of the hall.

you stand there thinking for a few minutes and decide to look for Jean, wanting her guidance with you becoming part of the team and maybe try to ask her about the whole Magneto and Logan situation.

when you enter the lower level of the school and reach the lab, the two metal doors slide open, welcoming you in.

You take a step inside and can see Jean in her lab coat preparing Logan for an x-ray.

Logan turns his head to look at Jean, “I’m sorry.” He spoke. “For what?” She asks, confused. “If I hurt you.” He stated. But before Jean could form a reply Logan turns his head towards you noticing you approaching the two of them.

“Y/n!” Jean says, turning to face you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! I didn’t know if you were busy. I’ll just leave you two.” you say embarrassed shifting your eyes to look at Logan who’s already staring at you. “No, it’s fine! What’s wrong?” She asks. Your eyes gaze back to her’s, not wanting to look at Logan’s eyes for too long. You start to explain, “I just wanted to tell you I’m going to be joining you guys for the next mission.”

“That’s great y/n! I’m glad you’re finally coming along with us.” She says as Logan lies there listening to your conversation. “Yeah, but it’s not for certain I’m going to be a part of the team. I’m just testing it out.” You say timidly.

“Oh.” She says. “Still, I’m proud that you’re trying to test it out.” She smiles at you. “Thanks, Jean. I’ll talk to you more after you’re finished.” You say appreciating her words and not wanting to bother her more. “Alright.” She reply’s still smiling at you.

You turn, approaching the big metal doors as they slide open as you walk out of the room. The sound of your heels getting quieter and quieter as you make your way back to your classroom.

Jean goes back to continue to prepare for Logan’s x-ray. “I thought she was already a part of this whole X-Men team thing you guys got going on.” Jean looks at him. “Y/n?” She asks. “Yeah, the girl that just walked in here about 1 minute ago.” He says with a tone.

Jean sighs, “Charles has been trying to get y/n on the team since she got control over her mutation.” She explains, focusing on putting another patch on his chest. “So why isn’t she on it?” Logan asks. She pauses for a moment to look at him. “Because she doesn’t think she’s ready.”

She continues, adding yet another patch but this time on the other side of his chest. “Although her abilities are one of the strongest in our school, and she can control it exceptionally well. Y/n’s incidents from the past get’s in the way of how she sees herself and her mutation.” The conversation goes silent.

Logan looks away from Jean to focus on staring at the ceiling instead. He thinks about what she just said about you and your mutation, and a certain spark of curiosity starts to build.

Jean quickly snaps him out of his thoughts and starts to speak, "Okay, I’m going to put you through the x-ray now.” Logan nods at her words as she puts him through the dome of lights. His head begins to fill with thoughts as he patiently waits for this whole x-ray to be over.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

a/n ──the plot is very much still in the works so I’m not sure how long every update will take but we’ll see😭 I’m planning on trying to post 12 chapters so I hope I can stick by that🫡 ALSO this prob has some grammar mistakes so mb😊

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #x men #wolverine #logan howlett #hugh jackman #first fanfic #😛😛😛😛#im struggling #xmen fanfiction #wolverine fanfiction

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always-just-red · 2 months

Note

I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. “Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything.

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

#🖋rach is actually writing #zayne x reader #zayne #love and deepspace #lads zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #lads #lnds #l&ds #li shen #lads x reader #zayne x mc

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