#this is the first one where i immediately just started drafting a fic in the response. god bless | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ozzgin · 4 months

Note

Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^

I love me my morally grey wizard ;)

I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)

Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons

Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior

It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).

Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.

Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.

You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.

Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.

After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #yandere obey me #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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nhlclover · 5 months

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i think he knows | adam fantilli

word count: 1.31k

summary: after pining for one another for a while, you finally make a move

warnings: not proofread, the section written in italics is a flashback, mentions of drinking, little bit of steamy activity and allusions to sex, kissing

notes: based on ‘i think he knows’ by taylor swift. first adam fic... not sure how i feel about this, it's kind of a mess

You were starting to go cross-eyed from staring at him so much.

Every chance you got, whenever Adam was preoccupied in a conversation with Dylan who was standing next to him, you’d catch a glance at him.

You were out at a bar in Nashville, celebrating Adam being drafted by Columbus. Adam had invited tons of people to be in his group of support for the draft, including you.

You and Adam met in class, being partnered together for a mini assignment. Over the course of the project and the rest of the school year, the two of you became close friends. Somewhere along the way, you’d developed feelings for him. However, you couldn’t work up the courage to tell him how you felt. So you stayed friends. Close friends.

His right hand was gripping his glass of whiskey, beads of condensation rolling down to his knuckles. You eyed him as he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip. Your brain was wracked with images of his hands running up and down your sides, getting to know your body like it’s his own.

“Can you quit staring at my brother like that? It’s creeping me out.”

You turn to face Luca whose face is scrunched up in disgust.

“What?” You say.

“You’re looking at him like you’re being starved and he’s a fucking filet mignon.” Luca scoffs, sipping from his beer.

Your cheeks heat up, trying to defend yourself against Luca. “I’m not…we’re not…I don’t like him like that.”

You immediately regret even saying anything as your words come out rushed and unsure.

“Oh please everyone here knows you two are drooling over one another and frankly it’s disgusting.” He says.

You sigh. “Is it that obvious?” You ask.

“Are you kidding me?” Luca asks, a grin tugging on his lips. “The tailgate party for the final football game of the season? Do you remember that?”

Adam knew what he was doing. He had to. He was wearing the UMich t-shirt you had cut into a tank after you told him he needed more variety in his wardrobe. You had also added that tanks were hot on guys. He had to be wearing it for you, right?

But then again there was the chance that this was all in your head. The flirting that Adam had been doing since you’d finished your joint assignment could all be in your head and was just him being nice.

Suddenly Adam was on his way over to you and your friends, who made an excuse to leave so the two of you could talk alone.

“Your DIY is a hit.” He says.

“I am an artist if I do say so myself.” You chuckle, fiddling with the choppy left sleeve of Adam’s shirt.

Your fingers brush his skin, a slight rush running up your fingertips. You look at Adam’s face, a soft smile on his lips as he looks down at you.

“What?” You ask.

“You look good.” He says.

“Thank you.” You smile.

There’s a beat of silence while the two of you hold eye contact.

“What, you’re not going to tell me I look good?” He asks.

You scoff at his cocky comment. “I don’t need to tell you something you already know.”

“Oh, you think I look good?” Adam smirks.

“That is not what I said.” You say.

“Mhm, but that’s what you were thinking.” He laughs.

Your cheeks flush pink, Adam smiling at the reaction he got out of you. He rests a hand on the wall, leaning over you.

“I’m serious, you look amazing.” He says.

Your cheeks flush even pinker, if possible, Adam slowly leaning his head down.

“Get a room!”

You and Adam turn your heads to where some of his teammates are. All of them are staring at you, smirking and laughing at the two of you. Adam flips them off, turning back to you. “I’m sorry about them.” He sighs.

“I-it’s okay. I’m going to go find my friends.” You say, weaving through the crowd to find your friends.

Adam walks over to his friends, a fake smile on his lips. “I hope you guys are all impotent.” He says.

“You’re blushing just thinking about him.” Luca groans.

You glance over to Adam who you find looking right back at you.

“Listen,” Luca says, drawing your eyes off his brother. “Go to him. Get out of here, and take him with you.”

“Are you whoring out your brother?” You ask jokingly.

Luca rolls his eyes, pushing you towards Adam. You walk over to Adam, stopping next to Dylan. When Dylan sees you, he makes an excuse, leaving the two of you alone.

“I just wanted to say congrats, again.” You say.

“Thank you.” Adam smiles.

“I’m going to head out now, though.” You say. “Go back to the hotel…”

You trail off, hoping he would pick up what you were putting down. Looking down at you, you feel your heartbeat skip under his gaze. “Okay.” Adam says.

That’s it? You furrow your eyebrows slightly, expecting Adam to have picked up on what you were insinuating. You are slightly confused until a smirk begins to tug on his lips. You should’ve expected this, as his attitude was a common thing you got to see. Something you’d always wanted to force away.

He stayed silent, not offering you much more than his eyes dragging up and down your body. Was he going to make you spell it out? If Adam was going to make you jump through hoops, you were at least going to do it under your terms.

“Yeah, go back… Get out of this tight dress, maybe take a hot bath… Try on my new set from Victoria Secret…” You trail off.

Adam gulps, and you can practically see him imagining you in a matching lingerie set. You had him obsessed with you and you completely understood why.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, shifting his feet to try and adjust himself.

You giggled, liking the effect you had on him. You rest your hands on his chest, flattening his dress shirt. You can practically feel his racing heart in his chest.

“Of course, there’s always room for a plus one.” You say softly.

That’s enough to push Adam over the edge, grabbing his glass from the table and downing the remainder of his drink. He takes your hand, pulling you out of the restaurant. You briefly stop by Luca, Adam asking him to tell their guests that he wasn’t feeling well so they were going back to the hotel. Luca agrees to cover, sneakily holding his hand out to high-five you as you pass him.

You and Adam step out into the warm Nashville air, walking down the sidewalk toward the car that Adam had rented. He hands you the keys, seeing as he had drunk and you hadn’t. You slide in the driver's seat, Adam’s hand finding your thigh immediately.

You start up the car, turning onto the street. You hit a light, looking over at Adam, whose eyes hadn’t left your face since you got in the car. The streetlights lit up his face, his normally light blue eyes looking like a darker indigo colour in the nighttime.

You continue down the streets of Nashville, eventually pulling into the parking lot of your hotel. You two were fast into the lobby and into the elevator. As soon as the doors shut, Adam’s hands were on your hips, pressing you against the metal wall. His lips connect to yours, your hands going into his hair. He deepens the kiss, causing you to instinctively tug on his roots, eliciting a groan.

When the doors open, you split apart, darting down the hall to your room. Fumbling with the keycard, you eventually unlock the door, you and Adam slipping inside, your tongues a tangled mess.

#adam fantilli #adam fantilli x reader #columbus blue jackets #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #umich hockey #umich

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fairyhaos · 8 months

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How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos

[masterlist]

this post details:

STARTING A STORY

PACING A STORY

hi gays and gals and welcome to "how to fucking write", a post (series) where i talk about how i brainstorm for writing, plan for writing, write the writing, and everything in between. nothing too serious here lmao, but i'm definitely planning on making at least a couple posts on this bc a) it's fun and b) i wanna help! so if you find this useful then pls lmk by reblogging + drop an ask if there are any specific things u want me to give my two cents on ^^

okok and now without further ado,,, let's look at the topics i'll talk about in today's post!

#1 - HOW TO START A STORY.

.. bullet point one : have an idea

the first big thing is that you need an idea. doesn't matter if you're a pantser and don't plan out your writing before you start. that's totally fine! but before you begin, you need at least an idea: maybe it's a vibe, a character personality, a specific journey you want the characters to go on. maybe it's a piece of dialogue. maybe it's the ending- the point you want to end up at after however many thousand words.

whatever it is, it's best to have some inspiration, some idea of what you wanna do. no point in writing if you don't know what you're writing, you know?

(of course, that brings up the issue of Having An Idea in the first place, but finding inspiration to write is a whole other can of worms we can open in another post.)

.. bullet point two : practice

okay, so now you have an idea. how do you put that idea to paper? how should you actually start your story?

it’s all to do with practice.

it’s the most annoying piece of advice in the world, but it helps so much. you just have to write lots and lots and lots, to find the way that works for you. whether you wanna start your stories with pretty scene descriptions, with dialogue, with dramatic one-liners. finding your voice, your style, what’s most comfortable for you, is really really important. and takes practice.

an example, though: for me, i prefer either a line of dialogue, or one-liners that a) help immediately establish a character’s personality or can b) introduce an interesting setting.

[chan + swingset] — one-liner example

[hoshi + silly] — dialogue example

but of course, everyone’s style is different. so i’d recommend playing around! find a list of one-word prompts and just write a few that inspire you, writing the beginnings. it’s important, also, that you’re having fun, because if you’re already struggling with starting to write, it’ll be even harder if you’re doing it while feeling stressed.

.. bullet point three (mostly just for longer fics)

maybe you don’t find a style, in the end. maybe you’re comfortable with all of them, which is totally fine! but then you look at your writing, and you think, “oh… this isn’t as good as i thought.”

and it makes you want to give up. what do you do, then? how do you carry on with your start?

just put words to paper. it doesn’t matter if the words are terrible, if you’re making up shit and using placeholders for description words or whatever. just carry on, get to a place you’re happy with, like the end of a scene, or maybe a dialogue exchange you really like.

because now, guess what? you’ve successfully created a first draft.

making first drafts is actually so important. seriously. first drafts allow you to fuck up, allow you to write terribly. they help you fumble and trip your way to the finish line (or at least a rest point) so that you can go back and do better.

even if your first draft is terrible, it’s helped you make your way to a point you’re happy with. now you have a vague idea of what you want, even if the description or characterisation or something is way off. because now, you can edit it, or even scrap it and use only a few words from that draft in your next one. or maybe, if you look back at it, maybe it’s even decent enough for you to use.

whatever it is, when you first start writing that story, think of it as ‘The Worst Draft’. because it probably won’t be as good as you want it, and it’s okay. just write, with no fears of it being bad, because that’s literally fine. it’s not set in stone. the backspace button exists. after your first draft is made, make another. and another, and another, because i promise, after that first draft, it only gets better from there.

#2 - PACING A STORY.

.. bullet point one : adding things

pacing is always really tricky. however, i do think that slowing a story down is easier than speeding it up, so here we go,,,,

finding out the exact way to slow down a story really depends on what type of story you're writing, but there are a few all-round things you can do which can help pretty much any setting.

if it's a scene with loads of dialogue, and things feel like they're jumping to the end topic too quickly, add descriptions. your readers are blind, writers, and they depend on you to be able to see what's going on. are your characters having a conversation on the street? take a break to describe what they see. are they in a coffee shop? maybe someone comes in with a huge noise, or their coffee arrives at their table. are they hanging in midair with nothing around them? well, describe the actions of the character they're talking to, then.

example: (from my seoksoo fic bc it's the only long fic i'm working on rn)

by adding character descriptions, movement, thoughts, instantly everything seems to have slowed down. it thickens time, allowing you to move at a more leisurely pace.

if it's a scene full of action, you can do the exact same thing. maybe there's a high-tension moment and something significant happens. slow down time there, describe something small in great detail. talk about the thoughts they're having.

and even if it's just an ordinary scene, describing is important. the setting, the characters' actions, their thoughts. it's okay to write too much. then you can delete things which make things feel like they're moving too slowly.

.. bullet point two : delete

not gonna lie, finding out how to speed up the pacing of the story can often be really specifically tailored to the setting of the story.

with stories that have loads of action (spy, apocalypse, etc) i'd recommend adjusting sentence length. you'll want short, punchy sentences, without loads of commas and clauses, but you'll also want to experiment with having those short sentences gradually get longer. it helps with tension and suspense.

it has to be short. running fast. something to elevate fear. quick, but also desperate, before they then spill over each other, picking up pace, all of the thoughts blurring together and going faster, and faster, and faster, and then-

then the penny drops.

people use the metaphor of music a lot, and it really does work that way. it needs to ascend to its climax: gently, cautiously, before sprinting upwards and only describing things like the barest emotions (the fear they feel, the panic, anger, anything) before everything reaches its peak and comes crashing down in a flurry of action descriptions.

but of course, the easiest way to speed up something is to delete. delete swathes of setting description. delete unnecessary dialogue. delete an entire scene and rewrite with only the things you remember (which can help make sure you only have the essentials in your scene, btw. very helpful).

it might take a bit of adjusting, rewriting, moving things around, but ultimately, quickening the pace of the story depends on the way in which you write things. be concise, be dramatic, and don't dawdle.

... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)

tagging: @selenicives who asked for this in the first place hehe ^^

#a guide by fairyhaos #ngl ive always wanted to try my hand as an advice giver soooo this is fun!#i really wanna help guys. like fr #fanfic #svt fanfic #svt fic #seventeen #txt #fanfiction #writing #creative writing #writers of tumblr #writing prompt #svt x reader #txt x reader #kpop writing #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fic

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cher-rei · 2 months

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love love loved your recent trent fic!! could you please do another trent fic where him and reader have been besties for years but trent finally got out of the (best)friend zone, they’re on their first date and he’s super nervous? and reader is like ‘bro it’s me? why are u being so weird??’ but she doesn’t get just how long he’s waited for this. it’s a cute fluffy giggly first date where they navigate the new dimension to their relationship as they go from friends to lovers. thank you!! 🫶

one at a time [ T.A.A ]

I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back [k- cigarettes after sex]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: you thought that it'd be easy leaping into a relationship with your best friend of five years, but your first official date with trent didn't go quite as planned which calls for a moment of anxious driven honesty

genre(s): new relationship, fluff with some angst

[wc: 2.05k] masterlist

notes: I had this marinating in my drafts forever, I'm so sorry anon😭😭 but I hope that you like it because I'm actually in tears help

trent knew that you weren't really a fan of restaurants, and to make you leave the house at 7 in the evening, only for it to start raining out of nowhere was an entirely different story. so why were you doing this exactly?

the two of you had just sat down at the table that trent had reserved at some fancy restaurant with a name that you didn't even want to attempt to pronounce. there was quite a bit of space between you and the other guests, seeing as it was quite reserved and you couldn't help but be grateful for the fact that your date wasn't going to be interrupted by someone asking him for a picture.

trent sat across from you in silence, the only other noise being the silent chatter from the other tables. it was unlike him to be this quiet but you were too caught up in the menu, joking about the dishes and their prices despite the simplicity of it.

you stifled a laugh at a memory, immediately wanting to tell trent but he was completely out of it. it looked as if he was holding his breath, lips pursed so tightly that they'd nearly vanished.

"dude are you okay?" you put the menu down and leant forward to get a better look at him. "you haven't said anything in like ten minutes."

he was speechless, every word lodged in his throat and he was sure that there were beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. you looked gorgeous. he couldn't even form a single coherent thought because he was absolutely memorised.

you were wearing the prettiest thin-strapped, black silk slip-on dress he'd ever seen, your bare shoulders (as crazy as it sounds) had him spiralling. it reminded him of the day he saw you in a spaghetti strap top, the comment of "you have a really nice collar bone. your shoulders too." slipping from his tongue without much thought.

that was 4 years ago, and here he was in a similar situation in a daze. as you sat across from him with such ease, your eyebrows furrowed in slight worry he couldn't help but wonder why it took him three years to accept the fact that he liked you, while it took another year to actually tell you.

what he didn't expect however was a pit of anxiety to form one month into your relationship. this was your first date as a couple and he was already blowing it— 30 minutes in and he hasn't said anything.

you on the other hand were growing more frustrated as the minutes passed. a heavy sigh left your lips, "you're not even listening are you?"

trent didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry." he swallowed hard, the realization slipping in that he was making this awkward. "I don't know what's going on with me right now."

you watched as he eased back into his chair with a hard swallow. this wasn't going to go anywhere and you could tell. you tried to blame his behaviour on work-related stress and came to the only logical conclusion at this given moment.

"this isn't going to work." trent eyes shot open in shock, afraid that you were referring to the relationship but you caught on. "I mean the date. today isn't a good day, so let's just go home okay?"

he fucked up. he could see it in the glint of anger and hurt in your eyes, a pang of guilt hit him like a truck when you stormed out before him. and the idiot that he was, only took off after you at least a minute later, only to find you angrily standing in front of the car in the rain because he had the keys.

when you both got into the car, no one said anything. the tension was thick and you felt as if you were suffocating just by being close to him and you couldn't help but want to cry. you were so uncertain about your relationship after this, especially since you liked him to the point of insanity.

your five-year friendship was something that you cherished so deeply, something that made you feel so safe and loved— yet here you were feeling like giving into your feelings was a mistake. when you first met him through a mutual friend you didn't expect the boy to become such a crucial part of your life.

the friendship started slow, but from the moment you got locked in an elevator together you found yourselves spending every waking moment of the day together. it was easy, so effortless and he was so caring and sweet that you couldn't not take a liking to him.

and when he confessed first it took you a minute to realise that he was serious your— eyes widening with an "Oh..." before he kissed you so gently that you went home that evening with the moment replaying about a thousand times.

but after a few days, something shifted. and this date only proved your suspicion right.

trent looked at you in the passenger seat, your back facing him as you stared out the window, your hair still damp. it was a risk but instead of going home like you wanted, he pulled over which raised some alarm for you.

"I'm sorry about tonight." was all trent could manage, a lump of guilt forming in his throat as he continued to watch the rain fall onto the windshield. and when you didn't answer him he felt like the earth had just swallowed him whole.

a pang of hurt washed over you at the sincerity in his tone, enough to make you sigh and turn to look at him— your lips pursed and your hand reaching out for his.

in truth, you weren't upset with him. you were just confused and so damn uncertain about everything. you were upset with the fact that he wouldn't tell you if something was bothering him, if he was uncomfortable or wanted to call it off. even if it was going to shatter your heart to pieces, he was still your best friend and mattered more than anything.

you urged him to look at you, he was hesitant at first but the look in his eyes made you melt. "talk to me." you ran your thumb over his hand, reassuring him that you weren't mad at him. "I need to know what's happening so that I don't end up storming out of this car in the rain."

it took him a moment to let out a deep breath and he shut his eyes tightly. "you."

your heart dropped to your stomach, and a hallow feeling entered your chest. "me? am I bothering you?"

when he didn't reply you gently let go of his hand but he was quick to pull it back, his eyes widened in realisation of what he said. "shit no, I don't mean that you're bothering me--" he fumbled over his words, "--I mean you are but not in the way that you think."

by now, your eyebrows were furrowed in utter confusion. you genuinely didn't know what he was trying to say, and his nervousness wasn't making you feel any better. "trent if you're going to break up with me in your car in the middle of the rain I swear to god I'm going to--"

"--I'm not breaking up with you!"

you threw your hands into the air, confused beyond recognition and slightly hurt. "then what are you doing?"

your raised tone made him groan in frustration. why couldn't he just say what he wanted to? "I don't know okay?"

your shoulders tensed up. "you don't know? are we just some big grey area now? you need to talk to me."

trent slightly shook his head, "its not that easy."

"it's not that easy?" your voice raised slightly as you repeated the question, dumbfounded. "dude it's just me. that should make it easy."

five years of friendship and now he choking up unable to talk? it's not that easy. those words rang like a funeral bell in your mind, echoing as if it were signifying your impending doom. was this it? two weeks was all it took for him to get sick of you? to make him feel uncomfortable?

trent scoffed and ran his hands over his face. and you were visibly not happy by his "amusement" to any of this. "do you find all of this funny?" you asked in genuine hurt.

he shook his head again and mumbled something under his breath. "you just called me dude."

"so? i always call you dude but that's not the issue right now."

"that's my point. this is all so casual for you, so normal and for me it's just--" just as he thought his thoughts were finally able to make any sort of sense, it got caught in his throat again.

you watched in utter shock as he groaned and tried to collect himself. this was the first time you'd seen him battle with his thoughts like this, nothing but uncertainty and frustration floating in the air but you waited for him to finish instead of interrupting.

this was new. you've had arguments before, but none of actual importance. but this— your opinions and demeanours clashing so easily made you realise that this was a completely different territory. it wasn't just petty arguments anymore and making up in five minutes, it was the need to communicate and understand each other.

your relationship held a much greater weight now and it was only the beginning.

"I've wanted this for such a long time," he spoke finally and caught your attention. his softened gaze settling on you, his best friend. "I've wanted you for such a long time and now that we're actually together it makes me nervous."

your lips parted in shock.

trent stifled an embarrassed laugh. "you make me fucking nervous. I can't believe I was able to be around you for three years while feeling like this and not mess our friendship up. I look at you and my palms begin to sweat, you laugh and my heart melts, you say my name and I feel myself blushing like a stupid kid."

oh this was not what you were expecting.

"when I look at you, I don't just see some idiot who looked at me like I was some alien when we first met— when I look at you, I see the girl who comes to all of my matches in my jersey, I see the girl who makes me want to shower her in every single bit of my love, I see the girl who makes me feel at home and loved."

by now you were crying, holding back the sobs and instead just letting the tears fall from your cheeks that trent was trying to wipe away, a smile on his face as he looked at you adoringly. like he didn't just make you think that he was going to break up with you.

oh, this was the boy you fell hopelessly in love with for sure. every single bit of him and his stupidity.

"when I look at you, I see my entire world."

you sniffled. a lot. absolutely out of control, nothing but incoherent mutters coming from your lips as trent pulled you closer to him for a hug. the tears fell helplessly into the crook of his neck where your flushed face was buried.

a teasing smile danced across his face. "why do you have to cry for everything?"

you pulled away from the hug and wiped the last of your tears and took a deep breath. you were so overwhelmed by everything that he said that you could barely think straight. "shut up, that was practically a proposal speech."

his smile only grew and he couldn't help but lean in for a small kiss, and left another one on your flushed cheeks. "we're nearly there anyway, might as well."

you hit his arm at the comment. "I hate you so much."

he caught your lips with his, a soft and meaningful kiss that left you both with an entire swarm of butterflies pounding their way out of their confinement. "well that's too bad, because I love you."

#trent alexander arnold fluff #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold x reader #fanfic #footballer x you #liverpool x reader #football imagine #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold #cherrei writes

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soobieboobie-lvr · 19 days

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POV: giving Soobin a handjob

A/N : just a short lil thing i dug up from my drafts for y'all to enjoy while i write my next soobie fic :)

pairing : sub!soobin x dom!gnreader

warnings : nsfw, strong lanuage, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, , mommy kink!, hot but fluffy and sweet :3, Soobin is just a cutie, y/n calls him 'bun/ny' and babyboy, handjob [m recieving]

it always starts with the little touches - mainly you just unable to keep your hands off of his gentle, silky skin, running your fingers down his lean yet soft torso over his little abs or feeling up his arms.

and poor soobie always gets so flustered from it - no matter how long you two have been together, he always feels and acts like it's his first time being touched.

being the sensitive sweetie that he is, of course the littlest things you do evoke tingles to course through his body, quickly trailing down south 🤭. he gets so hard so easily, bless.

he's never one to initiate anything though. he could be the neediest and the horniest and the most aroused he's ever been in his life, but he'd never be the guy to ask for you to touch him. not until you offer.

he's too polite to. in a way he's ashamed about it, in a way he hopes you won't notice, but deep down he hopes you do.

and you use that just to tease him. is it a bit sadistic? sure, but seeing him cuddle your arm nuzzling his squishy little cheeks into your shoulder while his legs are crossed trying not to hump your thigh like a pathetic little puppy is so precious.

soobinnie will just sit there with a slight pout on his blushed face and the glossiest eyes while he tries to still listen to whatever you're talking about. he gets so fiddly and squirmy and restless though, which is another dead give away.

kisses and cuddles will melt this boy like butter. you'd start with one on his forehead, then his cheek, then to his lips where he'd whimper a little after you pull away

it's that which always seems to break you, and you bite your lip asking him is everything okay bunny? tell mommy what's wrong..

and just like that his eyes widen knowing fully well that you know something, but its just so humiliating for him to admit anything. you make him so nervous, he can barely get his words out!

he'd babble dumbly until finally managing to drop a hint, his lips pouting and pursing so prettily as he looks down at his lap, unable to look you in the eyes he's so embarrassed. he mumbles under his breath, words slurred by his pouted lips saying 'm f-fine- just- just love you so much i- hmpfh~

it's always a struggle to get his words out when he's like this, he'd notice your cunning smirk and how you lay a hand on his thigh. he'd shiver at the contact, and surveil how as you sweet-talk him how your hand shifts higher and higher

poor bunny cant help but make pretty noises too, his hand glued to his mouth muffling his whines, and once you finally press your palm against his extremely obvious bulge asking him is this whats making you so restless babyboy?, soobin crumbles.

he'd nod wordlessly, his heartrate speeding up, unable to make eyecontact with you. his chest rises and falls breathing heavy through his nose as you begin to palm him through his sweatpants or jeans or whatever he chose to wear that day.

it wouldn't take him long before whimpering mommy~ into his hand - and you'd ask him what's that my love? i can't hear you~ though you knew fully well what he said.

once you slowly drag the hemline of his pants down, his cock springs up to attention and you gawk teasingly like you'd never seen it before; almost mocking him for getting so hard

obviously for a big boy like him, his cock is proportionate - nearing 7 inches, shades of pink and tan painting his most delicate spots, always clean shaved or lightly stubbled since he likes to keep everything clean and soft.

you'd coo at him, calling him a poor bun~, rhetorically asking him how did my sweet boy get so hard hm? which makes his cock twitch immediately, whining in humiliation but he loves it deep down.

once you take the length in your hand he'd nuzzle his face into your shoulder and occasionally look down with those pouty lips ajar, cheeks flushed pink, eyes clouded with desire as you pump him slowly, focusing thumb movements on his tip which drove him wild.

s-so good~ p-please~ t-thank you mommy~ he'd exhale all high pitched and desperate with stammered babbles. you'd chuckle almost evily, and drape your arm around his shoulders, holding him close as you pump him towards his climax.

the amount of time of which he last varies - but usually he's pretty quick to reach orgasm, bless him. sometimes you like to deny him his orgasm a couple times just to drag out the fun longer. each time he's left whining, begging, sobbing, but it means when he finally cums, it's almost sedative.

he tends to cum a lot too - makes sense as him being so touch and attention starved until he met you, a lot has pent up.

once his climax washes over him, poor baby can't help but buck his hips up pathetically into your hand, spilling the prettiest white ropes that trickle down his length and over your fist which he always apologizes for - he feels so naughty making a mess.

it's such a sight seeing his face - cheeks all flushed, doe eyes squinted into slits, his lip bitten behind his bunny teeth trying to silence his noises but it's no use.

and soobie isn't necessarily obnoxiously loud, his tendency to whimper and mewl into your shoulder keeps his pretty noises between you two, but it's still heavenly to hear him as he succumbs to your touches.

#choi soobin #choi soobin smut #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #soobin fanfic #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #soobin imagines #sub!idol #sub!soobin #soobin smut #choi soobin hard thoughts #choi soobin hard hours

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55sturn · 3 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SAYIN’ SORRY FOR THAT NIGHT

↳ series masterlist!

↳ summary: in which y/n is greeted by a sudden revelation on the night of chris’ most anticipated game, the one that determines whether or not the bruins get into the playoffs and she’s left apologizing for the night that caused it all.

↳ parings: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!

↳ warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions and descriptions of violent fights, verbal arguments, unplanned pregnancy, discussion of abortions, comments from the other team and hecklers, open ending, angst, angst, angst, and more angst.

↳ author's note: loosely based off back to december (taylor’s version) by taylor swift! , red italics are comments from random people!

↳ important things to note 0.02: a) i’m canadian and a montreal fan ‘til the day i die so writing a boston centric fic where the bruins win is killing me. b) i’m writing it so that carey price is still the canadien’s goalie bc i miss him and he was my favourite goalie.

THIRD PERSON POV

to be in the limelight alone is tough. to be in it for something such a hockey, where a million and one eyes are watching your every move, scrutinizing every play you make, every workout you do to toughen your body and build your endurance for the tasking time spent on the ice is even tougher, but to do all of that with a public relationship is the toughest thing.

chris knew that announcing his relationship at the peak of his career with the boston bruins was not going to be easy. he had all eyes on him as the bruins' newest right winger, but not only was he the newest player, he was also the youngest to join in years.

just like connor mcdavid's rise to fame with the edmonton oilers, chris was in the spotlight and it wasn't easy. he was in the spotlight because he was a phenomenal player with a chipper attitude that most hockey players don't seem to have. he had been scouted at one of his toughest games in his college career and almost immediately the contracts began flowing and the drafting process had started.

as eyes of everyone involved in the hockey world began to shift to the star of what they called "the boston bruins' new era and future captain", so did the female attention. not only was chris good at what he did, but he was insanely good looking, at least to the younger female demographic that had taken an interest in hockey.

but he didn't care for the, for a lack of a better name, puck bunnies or the future hockey wives in training, he had his own hockey wife sitting front row in the v.i.p section at every game, smiling as she watched him zip back and forth between his teammates and the teammates that he was facing

as he announced who the mystery girl in his practice jersey at every game was, he faced an onslaught of even more hate disguised as criticism and scrutiny from devout bruins fans, potential drafting scouts, and anyone willing to spare an opinion. but as the rather distasteful comments rolled in, his skin grew thicker, because as long as he had her to go home to, he could handle it.

PRESENT TIME

chris sat on the bench in the hallway adorning the infamous bruins logos, each brick in the wall holding some sort of history of the team, twirling tape around the blade of his stick. he found the dressing room too stuffy right before a game, so he and john beecher sat outside the dressing room, joking amongst themselves as they prepared for the game.

"cmon man, you played big games before you'll be fine." john chuckled, handing chris back his spare roll of stick tape as chris sighed.

"i know, it's just a big fuckin' game tonight. haven't played montreal yet."

"wait this is your first game against montreal?"

"yes and as a boston native, i know this is the game, just don't wanna fuck up when this decides whether or not we make it to playoffs."

"kid you'll be fine, you've outdone mcdavid's first year and that's pretty fuckin' bizarre 'cause he's a powerhouse." beecher reassured, clapping the young right winger on the shoulder before heading back to the dressing room. chris stared at the wall across, still struggling to comprehend how his life has become the way it is, he's incredibly grateful for the opportunities he's gotten and proud of the work he's put in, it's just still hard to fathom.

sensing that she should give her boyfriend a quick visit before he went on to the ice, y/n made her way through the crowds of people, smiling at the fans that addressed her, politely declining to take pictures until after the game. she proudly donned a large "8" and the name "STURNIOLO" scrawled across the back of a black away-game jersey and black jeans and her trusty, yet dirty, air forces, proudly showing her support for the man she's loved for six years, since she was a small fourteen year old navigating her year of high school with the triplets by her side.

the thin plastic stick weighed heavy in the pocket of her hoodie she wore beneath the jersey, she was about to tell chris about it, to give him a little motivation to play extra hard. but when she spotted the reporter’s mic pointed toward his helmet covered face, she placed that idea on the back burner. smiling she approached chris,

“hey mister big shot.” she laughed, causing chris to grin as he introduced her to the reported as his girlfriend. the reporter quickly bid the couple goodbye, leaving them to have their moment together.

“hey so i’ve got some really good news for you.” y/n smiled, smoothing her hands over his shoulder pads as he tugged off his helmet, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“listen i wanna go be apart of the chant so i need to go, can this news wait?”

“i guess so. give ‘em hell baby, i love you.”

“always ma, i love you.” chris replied, bouncing on his skates slightly before shoving his helmet back on, quickly shoving his way through the door leading to short hallway his team would walk through.

y/n stared at his back, watching him fade away as she was left to mull over the news she was about to tell chris. it was the start of his career and she didn’t want to derail it any, so the choice between telling him now or tell him in a month waged a violent war in her mind.

shaking her head, she made her way back to the staircase leading to the v.i.p section, as she wove through crowds of people, she heard the gasps and murmurs.

“that’s who the new bruins guy is dating? i won’t be shocked when he starts fucking the puck sluts in a month.”

“she looks out of place and that jersey is so unflattering on her.”

“i hope sturniolo comes to his senses and dumps her ass soon.”

scoffing, y/n climbed the stairs, pushing the overwhelmingly upsetting thoughts from her mind as she spotted nick and matt in their seats. breaking the news to someone was imperative to her, not telling someone would break her but she didn’t know whether she should tell someone before chris.

of course she and chris had talked about their views on starting a family together and the idea of raising a baby together but there was one issue,

chris wanted to wait until secured a long term contract with the bruins. he didn’t want anything to deter his plans. and y/n understood, he has worked so unbelievably hard to get to the position he’s in now. starting a family takes a lot of dedication, time, effort, and devotion without distractions. chris was concerned that if they had a baby early on in his professional hockey career, she’d be left alone to carry out so many of the responsibilities that being a parent brought on.

so as y/n made her way to her designated seat, her heart felt heavy. her doubts only grew with every step she took, and it felt like her body had been held down, it was as if she had cinder blocks chained to her ankles. as she sat beside nick, he picked up on her mood, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that sonething was bothering her though. nick bumped her elbow with his, as if to ask what’s wrong and she just smiled and shook her head.

mary-lou, who was sat behind y/n and her three sons, immediately knew what was going on. y/n had a certain glow to her, despite the sorrowful look that had become deeply etched into her skin. she knew that pained expression anywhere, she understood what the taut shoulders, pinched eyebrows, and distraught gleam in her eyes all too well. but the older woman put her excitement about becoming a grandmother off to the side, deciding she’d wait to gloat until y/n had accepted the idea her self.

the family conversed among themselves while the teams prepared to saunter out onto the ice, letting the fans get hyped up. a voice boomed from above, prompting cheers and hollers from the people taking up the stands.

“please welcome your home team, the boston bruins!” the commentator exclaimed, dragging out the words boston bruins in typical emcee fashion, allowing the fans and supporters chant for their team as he played the bruins’ intro song as they skated onto the ice one by one, the emcee announcing the names and numbers above the music.

y/n couldn’t help but lett the pride and excitement she felt show brightly on her face, despite the worries she suffered deep down. she was so incredibly proud of chris, him landing a secure spot on the bruins was a long time coming. it was his dream back in high school the moment he secured a spot on his high school’s team with ease. he was a natural born hockey player and it showed through the surplus of dedication he put into it. and y/n felt more than lucky to be there on the sidelines from the very beginning.

as the emcee asked from everyone to stand for the national anthem, a cheesy grin broke out on her face as chris stood on the offensive line facing the vip box, and pointed up to where he knew she’d be sitting before forming his hand into the best half heart possible that his bulky gloves would allow. she felt her cheeks warm with a deep blush as chris’ family playfully teased her for having their brother and son completely and unfalteringly whipped.

“shut up!” she laughed, her nerves drifting away as the game started. the excitement she never failed to feel at every single one of chris’ games, whether it was just him filling in for the local adult men’s teams or an exhibition game for his old college team, she was always filled with adrenaline as she stood and sat in the stands.

but that was expected when born into a city that favours the winter sport, you were either born with the excitement coursing through your veins or you were born with a deep hatred for it filling every crevice of your body. there was no in between.

y/n cheered along with chris’ family as he zipped, swerved, bobbed, and weaved up and down the ice. that was one thing that most players envied chris for, he was fast and slick, almost as if he was water slipping through your fingers.

and not only was he fast, he held great control over the puck as she moved down the ice, the puck never got away from him as he maneuvered it between players, alternating which side his stick was covering and pushing it.

there was fifteen seconds left in the second period and both montreal and boston held three goals each as chris stood for a moment back checking as his teammates guarding him, and with five seconds ticking down, he delivered a brutal slap shot, sending the puck into the net behind carey price who had dropped to block it a second too late.

the bruins fans’ side of the stands erupted in loud cheers, and so did y/n and chris’ family, his parents laughing giddily as matt made a backhanded comment about price being too old for goaltending.

“i will be right back, i have to use the washroom.” y/n interjects, letting nick know where she’d while the rest of them grabbed drinks.

“yo y/n, you drink budlight right?” justin hums, causing her stomach to drop, her usual habit of having a beer with them at chris’ games being something she hadn’t even considered.

“uh can you just grab me an iced tea? i’ve got an early appointment tomorrow and i’d rather not show up at my doctor’s smelling like beer.” she laughs nervously, causing justin to shrug and accept her answer before heading off to the concession stand near the entrance of the vip box.

“i’ll come with you, i’ve got to use the ladie’s room too.” mary-lou hums, smiling appreciatively as y/n waited for her.

however as they made their way to back of the section they were sitting in, mary-lou motioned for y/n to follow her out into the small hallway that lead to the smoking doors, it was empty as the two stood there.

“how far along are you?” mary-lou whispers, unable to withhold her suspicions any longer, and the abrupt question had y/n’s stomach twisting into more knots than it was already in.

“wha-how did you figure it out?”

“i’ve had my suspicions for a while, the last time you were over i heard you throwing up, and you’ve got the pregnancy glow. plus you’ve been wearing baggy clothes and you aren’t drinking tonight.”

“fuck. sorry for my language. but i think i’m about two and a half months along. last month i just thought my period was late because i was sick and when i get sick, my period is normally late. but then i missed this month’s too and it clicked.”

“have you told chris yet?” mary-lou spoke, her voice soft as she rest a reassuring hand on her future daughter in law’s arm as she shook her head.

n“i wanted to tell him before the game, to give him a little motive to play harder but he didn’t want to miss the chant and pep talk so he left before i could say anything about it. i’ve got the test in my pocket and i know it’s not smart to go off just one test so that’s why i’m going to the doctor tomorrow.”

“well i think you should tell him, i think he’ll be happy.”

“that’s what i’m worried about, he wanted to wait until he secured a long term contract. we had this conversation about a month ago.”

“you can’t necessarily control these things. a family comes to be when it’s meant to happen, not when you want it to happen.”

mary-lou’s words stuck deep in y/n’s mind. she knew that chris’ mother was right. y/n had just wished her and chris were a bit more careful that drunken night in the hotel.

FLASHBACK

chris and y/n’s drunken giggles bounced off the walls as they pushed their way into their room. they had gone out for dinner with the team and eventually broke off on their own after swiping two of the complementary bottles of champagne that the teams managers had provided.

they stumbled through the city after hiding in an empty room in the banquet hall, chugging the nasty liquor as quick as they could handle on empty stomachs.

“god baby, you look so pretty in this dress, just wanna tear it off you.” chris rasped, his cheeks flushing and eyes drooping, from the alcohol, or the effect his girlfriend had on him, or maybe even both, she wasn’t quite sure. making him look all the more enticing to y/n.

“do it then.” y/n slurred back, pulling chris into a messy, sloppy, yet incredibly hot, like searingly hot, make out, chris’ hands roamed her body feverishly, unable to stay in one place very long.

as their ministration progressed, so did their desire for one another and the lingering buzz they had from the alcohol left room for a few less than sound decisions. chris drunkenly justified going in raw by saying “just wanna feel as close to you as possible.” and that was all the convincing y/n needed, but she made him promise to pull out in time.

but due to their inebriation, chris wasn’t quick enough but they had long forgotten it by the time morning came.

FLASHBACK OVER

and now she was paying the price for them being reckless. sighing, she made her way back to her seat just as the intermission ended and chris' team made their way back to the home bench, their net switching back to the end they started out on.

it wasn't too far into the third period when the canadiens were getting aggressive, the score was eight to five in favour of boston and montreal was getting mad that they were losing the game, the most awaited game since it was announced boston and montreal would be facing each other to land a bracket in the playoffs.

the fact that it was also playoff season made y/n's stomach twist even tighter, she felt sick. she was so scared she was going to fuck up chris' life plan and she couldn't bear that idea.

but her current worries were thrown on the back burner when she watched a much bigger player from montreal's team check chris, sending him flying back against the ice, his head ricocheting off the ice, leaving chris laying flat on the ice.

chris' coach calls a time-out while paramedics quickly make their way onto the ice, carrying chris off the ice, and before y/n could react, she was pushing her way through the bustling crowd and stomping down the stairs, quickly sprinting to chris' change room.

"i'm sorry ma'am but you can't be in here."

"i'm his fiance." y/n spits, pushing her way into the change room, immediately rushing to chris, raising her hand to play with his hair, pausing momentarily to silently ask for permission which was granted by him leaning into her touch.

"we're okay, if anything happens, we'll call for you." chris rasps, waving away the paramedics, sighing sadly after being told he's not allowed back on the ice for the rest of the game to prevent being knocked around again because he was highly vulnerable to getting a concussion right now.

"tell me something to distract me, baby." chris whispers, pulling y/n into his lap, the bulky padding beneath her feeling foreign as she leans her head on her shoulder.

"i'm not sure what to talk about." she laughs as he rubs his hand back and forth along her thigh.

"your news from earlier."

"oh." she squeaks, her voice almost inaudible as she realizes that it's now or never. sighing, she grabs the test out of her pocket from beneath the spare jersey she wore, placing it into chris' hand with a heartbroken expression and timid voice,

"we're pregnant, chris."

↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @strawberrysturniolo @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @carolsturns1 @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @cutenote @ellie-luvsfics

love a good cliffhanger!! if you want me to make this into a mini-series i am beyond willing to! i have plans for this story tbh<3

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luvendiary · 2 months

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of moons and crowns / r. lupin

remus lupin x reader; royal!au

part 2

a/n: hiiii! i've been mia for a bit now. life's been pretty hectic. i've had this one on the drafts for a really long time, so in my spare time i've been slowly adding to it, and i think i got carried away. there's a part 2 in the works, so let me know if you'd like to see that. also i'm really sorry for all the requests i haven't put out. there's some that i have already started. i'll try my best to get to them. but honestly, i try to work on what inspires me rather than the order in which they were sent since i can't dedicate a lot of time to this anymore because of college. as always, let me know what you think. also, i think this is the first marauders fic i publish!

summary: the life of a servant in the palace was hectic. the life of a servant in the palace who so happened to get along with the princes, was even more so.

It wasn’t everyday that a royal ball was announced. Especially not one where the three crowns would be attending.

The kingdom was buzzing with excitement, and even whilst doing your daily chores you could not be spared of the gossiping and chattering.

“Do you think that both Black princes will attend?” one of the maids -Lucy- asked dreamily from across the small pond you were washing your clothes at.

“I sure hope so!” another chimed in. “But I have my eye on the Crescentwatch prince…” she continued dreamily.

“I’ve heard he is quite handsome”, you said with a giggle. As you couldn’t help but to offer your two cents of the conversation.

“You already have two handsome princes in your palm,” she said in a joking manner. “Leave some for the rest of us.”

“I can assure you Eva, that Sirius and I have no romantic intentions with each other. And as for James…well, he is James”, you explained simply as you splashed a bit of water into your fellow maid,

Your friendship with the princes was a strange phenomenon. Royalty would usually limit themselves with interactions amongst their social ranking, however thanks to your time working with the Most Noble House of Black, an out-of-odds friendship had sparked with the heir. Truth was, your time with them had not been a fairy tale. In fact, it had been quite the opposite. You had experienced their abuse and mistreatment first hand whilst working for them. And last time the Blackhaven monarchs had visited the kingdom, they made sure to make your life impossible, just for old times sake. You were no stranger to the Kingdom of Blackheaven’s tyrant rulers. But you were also no stranger to the kindness of their heir. Sirius Black had been your only distraction from the torment of the monarch’s unending chores.

Your friendship with Sirius started one night when he found you out in the gardens after a particularly cruel punishment from King Orion. Your hair was a mess, and angry tears had rolled down your blotched face.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You had been pacing angrily and muttering to yourself about how you would give him a piece of your mind one day. How you couldn’t care less about losing your head if that meant you could be far from them.

In a moment of pure anger and frustration, your hand flew out in a fist and hit a tree. You had immediately regretted that, as all you received back was a pair of bloody knuckles.

“You might want to be more careful”, an amused voice said, immediately flooding you with panic. The previous heat that had been flowing through your body because of the anger vanished. Being replaced with dreadful cold instead.

“Your majesty…” you breathed out, as you straightened your posture. There in front of you stood Sirius Black in all his glory. His long hair was tied up, and his white shirt was sloppily tucked in his waistband.

For a brief moment you considered acting as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't caught you cursing the absolute hell out of his parents. But you were tired. You could not put up a front anymore.

Your body deflated visibly once again, and you ran a hand through your hair.

“I would say that I’m sorry for my imprudent behavior, my prince. But that would be a lie”.

A moment of silence passed between you two. You patiently waited for him to say something. A death sentence maybe. However the next thing that came out of his mouth was far from that.

Laughter boomed from deep within his chest, making your head snap up immediately. Was he mocking you? Was death just a joke to him? For a brief moment you chastised yourself from expecting anything different from the Black Heir. After all, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t mock me. I doubt that death is a laughing matter, even for royalty”.

Sirius’ laughter dissolved into small chuckles. “Death? What do you mean?”

“My execution. I got punished earlier today because I poured the king the wrong type of wine. I highly doubt that you'll let me off the hook with just a warning for badmouthing them”.

A flash of anger and hurt passed through Sirius’ eyes before a soft grin adorned his features. “Lucky for you, I’m not my parents”.

Confusion made its way to your features. “So you won’t kill me?”

“Why would I do that?” he said approaching you. He inspected you for a moment before taking your hand and eyeing your bloody knuckles.

He dragged you to a nearby bench and without hesitation ripped a part of his shirt before proceeding to carefully -but sloppily- wrap your wounds with it.

You stayed quiet through it all. The correct thing would have been protest and decline his acts of service. He was royalty after all, and you were supposed to be attending him. But you were so tired.

“Let me see it”, he spoke up after a while.

“What?”

“Your punishment”.

You glanced up at him with tired eyes. You considered sparing him from the sight of the marks on your back. But to hell with everything. He should know what his servants were going through under his father’s reign. He was going to be king one day after all, and he needed to know if a change was going to be made.

You turned your back to him and carefully unbuttoned the back of your dress. The fabric had been scratching at your new injury, making it redder than it already was.

There in between your shoulder blades was a deep scorch mark in the shape of the king’s crest. The wound was deep from the several burnings you had gotten over the years. Some were even unaligned from their usual place. A result of your trashing and pleading for mercy.

You expected a gasp or an indication of surprise from the prince. But you heard nothing. Instead, from your peripheral vision you saw him uncorking a small vial of a dark purple paste. He dipped his fingers into it and carefully smeared it on your back.

The cool sensation of the paste combined with his fingers on your skin and the stinging of your wound, made you tense up.

“I’m no stranger to my father’s rage” he whispered.

Only then did it occur to you that the rumors of Sirius’ rebellious personality and his constant acting out in events might not please Walburga and Orion.

“Has he branded you too?” you asked bluntly.

“Yes, but not with the family crest. That would mean that he’d had to consider me his property. And if it were up to him, he would have disinherited me a long time ago”, he explained as he closed the vial. “He prefers a simpler method when it comes to me”, he continued.

You did not expect him to show you anything. Royalty tended to protect their honor in that way. They didn't want to appear weak, especially not in the presence of their subjects. But Sirius kept surprising you. Slowly, he untucked his shirt and lifted it just enough for you to see the lash marks that peeked over his stomach and seemed to take root from his back.

You didn’t say anything. Your hand twitched in your lap, aching to trace the scars and maybe provide the same attendance that he had offered you. But you stopped yourself and instead just looked at him, eyes full of exhaustion.

“Why haven’t you abdicated? You can get out of here. I’ve heard of your friendship with Prince James and Prince Remus. Everyone knows that the Noblehaven royal family would take you in in a heartbeat”.

He chuckled. “I hardly think it's fair to leave my kingdom behind. I want to free my people of my parent’s torture. And I think that his anger is a sign that I’m going in the right direction. It means that I’m making changes -changes he doesn’t approve of”.

You chuckled. “I’d hardly call getting drunk during the Queen’s Jubilee making changes”.

He laughed. “No one ever speaks to me like that”.

“Does that mean that I just got myself a death sentence?”

He smirked, “It means I like you. You say what you mean. Unapologetically”.

You chuckled and smiled to yourself. You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you thought you liked him too.

Ever since then, your meetings with Sirius had become more frequent. Whenever his father decided to punish either of you, the other would attend to their wounds. You would both bond over your dislike for his parents and would never fail to make the other laugh.

It wasn’t until one particular bad punishment that Sirius decided he needed to get you out of there as quickly as possible. So against your wishes, he arranged for you to be presented as a “gift” to the royal family of Noblehaven.

“You can’t be serious!” you screamed as you stormed into his chambers.

“I’m always Sirius,” he said, unbothered by your anger.

“You can’t just gift me away! I won’t go!”

Sirius closed his book and slowly looked up at you. “I’ll miss you too. I’ll miss you so much. But I can’t keep seeing you get punished. It’s not fair. I already talked with James. He’ll take care of you. You’ll be in good hands, I promise”. You noticed a teary smile make its way to his face. “You’ll be safe”.

You tried to stay mad, you tried so hard to not break. But a sob managed to escape your lips and you crushed into his body as you wrapped your arms around his torso.

“I can’t leave you Sirius. I can’t go knowing you’re still here. Who will take care of your wounds?”

He laughed, amused by your protests. Truth was, you did so much more than just take care of his wounds. He couldn’t imagine his life these past years without you. But for your own good, he will have to now. “I can manage”, he replied as he hugged you back and buried his nose in your hair.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The Noblehaven royals had done right by their promise. They provided you with far more commodities than the Blacks ever did. You had also managed to befriend Prince James. You often found him in the halls and he made sure to send a flirty comment your way, which you always replied with a sickly sweet voice, pretending to swoon with his advances. Your whole act was amusing for him. Which is why he also liked to search for you whenever you had work to do, so he could chat your ear off.

It was to no surprise then, that when the ball was announced, James had come running to you to give you the news. You were over the moon when you realized you’d see Sirius again soon, which had put you in a fantastical mood for the rest of the day. Perhaps in too good of a mood, since you had forgotten that Sirius would not be coming alone.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your fellow maids, as they called out your name. You hadn’t realized you had been harshly scrubbing the coarse fabric against your skin, causing it to turn visibly red. You looked up to find the girls already looking at you with amused expressions.

“I think someone’s waiting for you,” one of them said as she subtly signaled to something behind you.

Following her gaze, you came to find none other than James standing by the outhall of the gardens. Your heart immediately jump started. He could possibly bring news of Sirius.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, smiling apologetically at your friends.

The two of them giggled before easing your worries, offering to take your basket of unwashed clothes in with them if you weren’t back by the time they were done.

You thanked them quickly before skipping over to the prince.

“Your highness”, you said as you curtsied.

James chuckled and offered you a little bow of his own. “My lady, I bring pleasing news for you”.

“Get over with it James!” you said as you punched him lightly. “Sirius is coming right? Will I be able to see him? Please don’t let me be their maid in waiting again!”.

“Calm down dearest”, he said as he patted the arm that had been previously interlocked with his. “The Blacks did send in a particular request for you, and unfortunately it’s not mine to deny”.

Your posture deflated immediately. You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't noticed James leading you to the guest wing of the palace.

“We're here…” he said as he let your arm go.

Your eyes immediately went wide. “They're here already?!” you whispered harshly. “I can’t go in there! They’ll kill me if I show up like this!” you rambled as you pointed to the tethered dress you wore.

“It’ll be alright. I won’t leave your side”, he assured you. Although his words did little to calm you down, you knew they couldn’t cause you actual harm in here. Which is why you weren’t throwing an absolute fit over the situation. You were a maid after all, and it was your duty to do as the royals requested.

You sighed and attempted to fix your clothes along with your wild hair which had begun to set itself free from the braid you had constricted it into just this morning. “I thought you were supposed to give me good news…” you mumbled before straightening up and reaching for the door handle, missing completely the grin James was trying to suppress.

You prepared yourself mentally for facing the two most terrible people you ever had the displeasure of meeting. But you were surprised to find one figure instead of two. He was the same as his father, except that he was totally different in all the right ways. His sharp features had never looked so beautiful to you, and his tied up hair was a good sign. He felt comfortable.

Your hands immediately flew up to cover your mouth and you felt your knees buckle. “Sirius…” you whispered as a huge smile morphed your face.

“Well, don’t just stand there…” he said with a laugh as he opened his arms, inviting you in for a hug.

You wasted no time immediately running up to him and jumping into his arms. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“I´m happy to see you too,” he said. You felt his chest rumble with deep laughter, and it just settled in the fact that he was here.

“Oh god…” you separated immediately from him. “Where are your parents? They're going to kill me”, you whispered frantically.

“That's the best part,” James jumped in as he wrapped his arm around Sirius cheerfully. “They are not coming”.

The revelation that the dreaded Black monarchs were not attending the royal ball lifted a tremendous weight off your shoulders. The relief was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel grateful to whatever twist of fate had kept them away.

Sirius noticed your visible relief and chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "No need to worry. James and I have our ways of handling them. We convinced them that attending this ball would not align with their interests. Besides, they've grown tired of these social gatherings."

You exchanged a glance with James, who winked at you playfully. It seemed the princes had orchestrated this whole scenario to ensure your peace of mind. Your gratitude towards them deepened, and you couldn't help but smile at the thoughtfulness of your friends. You also couldn't help but to think of what Sirius had implied. It wasn’t in the likes of the Blacks to show weakness such as exhaustion. They would always make sure to show other kingdoms their coldness and unwavering manner. But if what Sirius said was true, maybe Walburga and Orion’s reign was coming to an end. Maybe it was finally time for Sirius to step up to the throne and finally lead Blackhaven into prosperity. No wonder he looked so healthy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As the days leading up to the royal ball unfolded, life within the palace took on a whirlwind of excitement and preparation. Noblehaven was adorned with flowers, banners, and elaborate decorations, creating an enchanting atmosphere in anticipation of the grand event.

Sirius and James, with their usual mischievous flair, took it upon themselves to involve you in the preparations. You had already told them -repeatedly- that your attendance at the ball was not assured, and even if it was it would not be as a guest, but rather as a servant. That did not discourage them, however, from imagining your dress, which was starting to sound more like an elaborate pastry to you.

In the midst of this bustling activity, you found yourself navigating the corridors of the palace on an errand to deliver a message for King Fleamont, James's father. The palace, as majestic as it was, could be quite confusing for someone not accustomed to its intricacies.

In your rush to fulfill your duty, you turned a corner and collided with a figure rushing in the opposite direction. Books and papers scattered across the floor, and the collision left both of you momentarily stunned.

"I'm so sorry! I should have been more careful," you exclaimed, hastily bending down to collect the fallen items. Heat rushed to your face, praying to whoever was listening that this mysterious figure was not any sort of royalty.

A warm chuckle reached your ears, and you looked up to find a young man with sandy-brown hair and gentle hazel eyes, who was also crouched down, gathering the scattered belongings. Your first instinct was to plead for him not to worry about the mess you had just made, but one look at him had you speechless.

"No, it's my fault. I was not looking where I was going," he replied with a smile, handing you a few loose papers.

Standing in front of you was none other than Crescentwatch’s own heir, Remus Lupin himself.

You had heard James and Sirius talking about him. Everyone knew they were basically brothers. The other maids also talked a lot about him. His handsome face, his mysterious scars, his dreamy eyes, and his soft hair. But for some reason you had always seemed uninterested in the topic. You supposed that royal gossip wasn’t as entertaining when you were so close to it. You had enough things to deal with with James and Sirius, adding another royal to the mix didn’t sound as appealing, especially if he would be as rambunctious as the other two.

Still, the prince’s handsome features were not lost on you.

“I'm so very sorry your majesty!” you said as you offered him a curtsy.

“Oh please- that's not- '' his words were cut short by a louder voice coming from down the hallway that called your name.

“I've been looking all over for you!” James said as he jogged up to the pair. Next to him, Sirius’ grin widened as he realized who you had just bumped into.

“Ah! So you’ve finally caught the third prince uh?”

“I-” you looked frantically between the three men who now blocked your way to King Fleamont’s study. “I’m sorry, I should’ve looked where I was going”, you said frantically trying to get past them.

James laughed. “I hope that you’re on your way to try your dress on”, he teased.

“Are you sure you’d like to know about my dress or are you more interested in Princess Lili’s gown?” you shot back as you reorganized your papers and combed a hand through your messy-looking hair.

Sirius laughed, Remus chuckled and James turned red. “That’s what I thought”, you mumbled pleased with yourself. “Besides, the only gown I’ll be wearing is my uniform. The fancier one, if you’d like details.”

Sirius groaned. “But you were supposed to be my date!”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. You would’ve loved to attend the ball with them. They were your closest friends. Despite that, you could not ignore your social standing. It would not be appropriate for a prince (a crown prince, at that), to be seen in such a formal event with a servant.

“I already get enough comments on how I charmed my way into your bed and out of Blackhaven Sirius. I don’t need more of those, especially when they aren’t true.”

Sirius sighed dramatically.

Remus spoke up then, “what about me?”

Your shocked expression made a small smile appear on his face. Up until now he had watched you retaliate James’ and Sirius’ comments with ease. Leaving you speechless was something he prided himself with. Even if you had just met a few moments ago, both princes would not stop talking about you.

“What about you, your majesty?” you asked.

He chuckled at the title. “What if you were my date?”

You glanced around at the boys. James’ mouth hung open, and Sirius had an unbelieving smile on his face.

“You sly dog…” you heard the latter mutter as you gently tapped Jame’s chin close.

“Is that an order?” you asked with a small tilt of your head. You still weren’t sure where exactly you stood with him.

“It’s an invitation,” he replied, without missing a beat.

After a moment of silence -and uninterrupted eye contact with the Crescentwatch prince- a small smile broke its way onto your face, despite you trying to remain serious.

“Goodbye your majesty,” you said with a curtsy, before turning around and resuming your way to King Fleamont’s study.

Silence remained amongst the three boys. Each still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“So the good news is…”, James said after a moment. “That wasn't a no”.

That seemed to break Sirius off his trance as he jumped onto Remus and started blabbering about how he didn’t know he had it in him.

Remus however, did not hear a single thing his friends were saying. With a smile still gracing his features, he wondered what his next move would be.

#remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #x reader #remus lupin #marauders era #marauders #james potter #sirius black #remus john lupin #royal au #marauders royal!au

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fabled-fiction · 11 months

Text

Mirror Image (Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader) ANGST

Summary: When Miguel and Jess find a new Spider to recruit, neither of them expected to find you. Someone from Miguel’s past that was long gone…just like you never expected to see his face again.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS, angst, talk of death, use od (Y/N), heavy angst

A/N: I didnt respond to the request cause it had two so I chose the one I liked most! Hope this meets expectations and breaks a few hearts 😈 (it also wouldnt lemme tag you 😭)

Request by @written-subs: “a kinda angst(?) fic where Miguel has lost his s/o right? And then he recruits a new spider and finds out its his s/o but in a universe where HE dies and they just stare at eachother in disbelief and lowkey wanna be with each other again but its not canon :(( and reader feels as if its betraying their miguel”

He would like to say that each Spider person chosen to join the spider society was a methodical, long thought out process.

That out of every thousand Spidermen, one was chosen.

But he would honestly be lying.

While there was a review process, where they evaluated a Spider’s abilities on a scale, it was honestly up to who piqued their interest first.

Like right now.

Jess and Miguel looked at the screen with interest.

The current Spider they were reviewing, was a tough one for sure. Probably one of the toughest that had been considered.

They had been a Spider for about seven years. Practically forced into the position due to the war that was going on on their Earth. You were drafted, and then chosen randomly to be genetically altered with Spider Venom in an attempt to make a super soldier.

It was very Earth-199999 esque. At first it almost made Miguel turn the page. He did not want to deal with a Spider that was from an Earth similar to that one. He could not deal with that headache.

But as the war continued, they became more cruel. Being the only successful Spider-Soldier, they wanted to run tests. Take blood, push your endurance and try to make you even more super. In their search to find out why you works, they pushed you away with their cruelty.

And that's when you truly became a Spiderperson.

“They’re tough. I think they’d be a useful asset.”

“You think they could follow orders?”

Jess stood there for a moment, looking over the files Layla was able to grab off your Earth. Everything was either classified, blacked out, or destroyed by you when you went rogue. She wasn’t sure if you would follow orders. You were soldier turned superhuman, turned vigilante. That was a story that told itself. You were a free agent - literally.

But she could feel your determination, even from dimensions away.

“I think they could.”

“We’ll go when their Earth hits o’three hundred.”

You had hit a dent in your plan.

While you had taken out three outposts, it seemed like they knew the next one you were planning on hitting. In retaliation they upped their security, and strengthened their towers to jam your signals. They had you between a rock and a hard place.

So right now, you were stuck.

Grabbing one of your monitors, you let out a guttural scream as you threw it into the wall.

It practically disintegrated into a million little pieces. The wall that it had hit had a sizable dent, with small cracks forming.

Closing out all your tabs, you sighed as you started at your screensaver. You felt your shoulders drop a little as you saw your reflection in the monitor.

Would he be proud? Or disappointed?

Before you could even reminisce, you felt the hairs on your arm stand.

Clicking a tab on the computer that turned it off completely, you quickly jumped up onto the ceiling. Pulling your mask down, you took in a deep breath as you watched the door get practically ripped off its hinges.

Two people walked in, and immediately you felt fear.

They were both Spider-Soldiers…or at least they looked like it. They didn’t have the uniform or the head gear…but instead were both in brightly colored spider themed outfits. It reminded you of when you broke off, you immediately designed your own to combat against your forced conformity.

You were mostly worried about the fact that they were successful in recreating the serum that made you.

“ The tracker says they’re here…are you sure this is their base?”

“ Look around Jess, this is obviously their base.”

Your heart stopped when you heard that voice.

And while it went against everything you’ve learned, everything that was drilled into your system, you acted on emotion. Screw the stealth tactic.

Shooting a web at the female Spider’s ankle, you yanked her up fast and hard so that she was dangling from her ankles.

“SPI-”

A quick web to the mouth shut her up.

Shooting a web at her wrists, you shot back up to tie her wrists to the ceiling as well. Hog tying her to the ceiling, you stared at her for a moment unknowingly making eye contact with her. She shook as she hung there, unsure now what to make of you.

Especially now, as your face lined up with her. You reached forward slowly, gripping onto her glasses and taking them off. She shook her head, breathing heavily as she watched you.

You moved with deadly accuracy. At first she was curious as to why her spidey-senses hadn’t alerted her to you. But as she watched you she noticed how you used your stature to your advantage. You moved like you were one with your surroundings - more so than any Spider they had recruited so far.

Were you…you weren’t even breathing!

As you descended behind the other Spider, your heart was going a mile a minute. Your own spider senses were flying off the handle, it was almost hard to concentrate.

You needed to see if it was actually him.

You were literal inches away from him when your lungs started to scream for air. You had been holding your breath for a solid few minutes. Your expanded lung capacity could only help you for so long.

The minute you had let out just the smallest bit of pressure from your chest, the Spider in front of you had whipped around.

His hand immediately went to your throat, lifting you up with ease.

With your emotions still at an all time high, you started to kick and scratch. His grip was tight, but not deadly. He was holding you to keep you in place, not to hurt you.

While still keeping you in the air, he brought you closer to his face. His head tilted as he watched you struggle, hanging onto the hand that held you tight. His senses were fighting yours. Both your frequencies screaming at eachother. He could see you flinching as well, and not at his grip.

Despite the ringing in your ears, every sense telling you to trust him you needed to see. The growing pit in your stomach felt like it was devouring every bit of energy you had and throwing out every emotion you had managed to bury in these last few years.

Reaching forward, you hand gripped the top of his mask and quickly pulled up.

As if he knew what you were doing, the minute you had a hold on his mask whatever was making him freeze pushed him into motion. He immediately threw you as far away from him as possible.

Both of you were holding the other’s mask.

And both of your hearts felt like they had stopped.

At first he couldn’t believe it. That you were standing right infront of him.

A warmth he hadn’t felt in his chest had slowly started to grow, spreading to his neck and his heart. His hands gripped themselves tightly, to keep him in place. Oh how he knew that he had to stand his ground, and cement himself in place despite the only thing he wanted to do was to run and hold you in his arms…again.

That's exactly what you wanted too. To have him hold you so so close that you were both almost one. Your heart couldn’t keep up with everything that was pumping through your veins right now.

You thought you would never see him again. It was fact to you for the longest time. You had watched him get taken from you, slowly and painfully. He was the reason for everything. For you going rogue, becoming the vigilante that you were now and painstakingly taking down the organization that forced you to be the way that you were. They took everything from you, and you had promised to take everything from them.

You had promised him…

Just like he had promised you…

He remembers holding you, feeling your body quiver in his arms after a particularly rough encounter. You weren’t built for his world but you were in it anyway.

He remembers wiping your tears away, the last thing he saw in your eyes was a yearning sadness.

And here he was again, like it was that terrible terrible day. Tears threatening to spill, a look of want filling them.

That made it worse. That you knew him in this world.

“Miguel..?” You called out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Oh how he missed that sound. The way you said his name.

It was the only thing he wanted to hear.

This had to be some cruel joke that the universe was playing on him. That the multiverse had decided would be his fate yet again.

He was stronger than this.

When you took a step towards him, he took a step back.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Spider-Soldier…We’ve..Maybe we should explain on the way?”

The woman you had webbed up earlier was now standing beside you. Her hand being the anchor you needed to bring you back to reality. Reaching a hand up, you wiped away one of your tears that had fallen.

“You’re not him are you? You’re someone else entirely.”

“Yes…”

Nodding, you swallowed as you turned to the woman. Giving her glasses back to her, you stood up straighter as the waves of emotion you were feeling began to bottle up.

“Explain what exactly? I have very important matters to attend to here.”

Walking back over to the computer, you turned it back on to try and distract yourself.

You were stupid to think that even for a moment he was back. Nothing in your life had ever been given to you. So to think that he was back without some catch? That was a thought the old you would have believed.

Oh to be that naive again.

Miguel and Jess watched from behind, as you continued to clack away. The way you had just sucked it all in, and became strict in two seconds really reminded Jess of Miguel…it was almost uncanny.

Looking over at him, she frowned when he saw the look on his face. Now that you weren’t looking at him, he let out a little emotion.

The sadness in his eyes alone could weigh down multiverses.

Jess came to stand next to you, and saw the same look in his eyes that Miguel had. With a heavy heart, she put her hand over yours. It was shaking with every tape of the key, and you were sure if she hadn’t take your attention again another monitor would soon meet its fate

“I know this may be…alot right now but what we’re offering you could do some real good. You could help so many other Earths if you just hear us out.”

Stopping for a moment, you looked over at her and swallowed. You had so much to do here, for him and for yourself.

“My…Earth needs me though.”

Jess took a look over your screen. She could see that you were scrambling for an answer to an almost unsolvable problem. You were backed in a corner with now way out right now. She was sure it was the reason why there was a destroyed monitor on the other side of the room.

“It looks like you could use some time away…come back at it with fresh eyes? Plus what we’re offering could be a little release of some of that building tension?”

Looking at her, you took in a small breath before pinching the bridge of your nose. Jess would be laughing right now at how uncanny you and Miguel acted oh so similar.

You two must’ve been inseparable on this Earth.

Miguel stood there, watching with a softened gaze. He wanted to go back. Because the longer he stood there the more his resolve was crumbling.

Especially now, as you looked back at him. He felt his heart break all over again.

“What even are you…inviting me too? You’re talking about Earths and you guys are…spider people?”

Miguel sighed, as he crossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was dragging you back into this.

…what if this took you away from him again?

“It's complicated to explain here…why don’t we take you back to headquarters, where we can show you the whole presentation.”

Crossing your arms, you looked back at the woman and then Miguel.

You desperately wanted to just run back with him. Your heart was betraying you, because all it took was one look and it felt like you were a stupid teenager again. Hiding behind the bleachers and sharing secret looks.

It was beating in your chest at the same speed it did when he had kissed you for the first time.

He must have known you on his…Earth. Your head was just barely piecing together the fact that multiverses were real. You remember one of your fellow soldiers talking about it…as a way to distract themselves from what was happening around them.

But now you had to catch up to the idea that he knew you too…or at least a version of you.

From the look in his eye that you barely managed to catch every time he would glance at you, you could tell thing had not ended well for you.

That little voice in the back of your head, the voice you usually listened to to get you through tough times started to speak up again.

That since he had known you on his Earth…maybe just maybe you could get to know him.

Like you knew your Miguel.

Miguel found himself having the same thoughts. The same shameful thoughts that your touch would be the same. Your pillow talk could possibly be the same, The way you said his name was, so why not anything else?

Flashes of your Miguel grounded you though. That he was not yours, at least not here. You had already had your time with Miguel. And for some reason it was only that short amount of time.

You had already gotten your allotted amount of touches,

Kisses,

Caresses,

And time to just…hold one another.

“ (Y/N)...”

Looking at him, he was carefully watching you. Him saying your name in that beautifully pained voice confirmed it for you. That he had already had his time with you too.

The woman, gods you should have remembered her name he said it earlier, came to stand next to Miguel. Pressing a few buttons on her watch, suddenly a medley of light and color opened behind her.

“It really would be easier to explain if you just came with us. I promise I will bring you back if you say no, but just hear us out.”

Tossing you a wristband, you swallowed before looking back at your computer.

It was probably best that you not be here for a few hours…at least thats what you were telling yourself just to let yourself off the hook for jumping at the chance to be with him again.

Sliding it on, you watched as the woman stepped through and it was just you and Miguel standing there with the portal painting him in a beautiful array.

Holding out his hand to you, you could see how his hand shook.

You also noticed how it stopped when you took it.

“Fine…”

After you took his hand you knew your fate was sealed.

That whatever this “Spider Society” was…you would accept.

Just to be near him again.

Even though it would hurt. That it would feel like your heart was getting ripped out over and over again.

A part of you hoped that it would stop…or numb after a while. But in the back of your mind you knew it wouldn’t

But at least you would get to see his face again.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #marvel x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader

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yesimwriting · 8 days

Note

how do you think the canon events of saltburn would’ve maybe played out a bit differently if lovie was there? do you think there’s a chance that it SOMEHOW could’ve prevented felix’s death and everything else from happening?? I’m just curious abt any thoughts you might have on this honestly

i've gotten versions of this question in my inbox before, and i even have some drabbles/general thoughts about this in my drafts

but bc i am writing/planning out a longer fic that will focus on the actual plot of saltburn more, questions like this are hard to answer without spoiling that,, but i feel like the way you worded this question makes it easier to give general thoughts on lovie's role in the plot

and bc most of lovie's influence on the plot comes from character dynamics, this is a bit of a character analysis on felix, oliver, and lovie and how they interact

this came out way longer than expected

lovie would be both a catalyst and an inhibitor to felix's death in oliver's eyes

felix and lovie are so close, so attached at the hip, oliver starts to view them as a single entity, a unit. this isn't an immediate thing, but the longer oliver's around them and the more desperate and delusional he becomes, the more their identities merge.

now, bc lovie's "value" comes from her proximity to felix, felix will always inherently be "more" to oliver. however, this intrinsic "more" quality that felix possesses is dangerous. it's part of the reason i think oliver kills felix. too much of a good thing--that's what felix is.

felix is so perfect, you let him consume your soul without even realizing it. even though lovie is great and a piece of felix, she's so much safer. because of this, her existence makes it easier for oliver to swallow the thought of turning on (and getting rid of) felix. because a more attainable, more manageable 'version' of him will still be around.

also oliver starts to want lovie more in certain ways because felix wants her. if he can get lovie (especially before felix), that makes him more like felix. it's part of the process of oliver shifting from wanting felix to wanting to be felix.

despite the fact that lovie makes the thought of letting go of felix more bearable, lovie's presence would also make it hard to get rid of felix.

logistically, they're rarely apart. it's hard to poison someone when there's always a witnesss. and, if oliver only wanted to kill one of them, poisoning wouldn't be as easy because lovie and felix share almost everything.

also, oliver is smart and selfish. he knows that killing one would devastate the other--they're a set. oliver doesn't want a depressed lovie, and he doesn't want a depressed felix. he knows that getting rid of one throws their entire dynamic and world out of balance. their grief and depression wouldn't be fleeting, it would be all consuming.

if lovie lost feix, or vice versa, they'd each be depressed in a way that takes all the fun out of it for oliver. if either of them is that heartbroken, it's harder to project any manic pixie dream girl fantasies onto them.

general notes on oliver's feelings for lovie and felix:

i think oliver would eventually grow fond of their group dynamic. not fond in a comfortable way, especially at first, because of how obsessive oliver's character is and because of how close lovie and felix are.

but with time, it's easier to feel secure in his place in their life. he starts to want them as a bonded pair. a big part of that definitely comes from his voyeuristic tendencies. it gets to the point where it's not always sexual. he likes watching them interact, watching them take care of each other because of the intimacy of it all. i could write a drabble focusing on oliver and voyeurism when it comes to lovie and felix to explain it more if anyone wants me to elaborate

also, because there's two of them and oliver manages to engrain himself into their dynamic (to a certain extent), his obsession becomes a little less overwhelming. don't get me wrong, he's still unhinged, but the ability to place all of that onto two people stabilizes him to an extent. there's a balance to it.

i think this 'balance' would make it more likely for felix and lovie to live, but i can also see oliver jumping to lock their relationship down by killing off everyone else in felix's family faster. especially if he felt like felix was starting to lose interest. the grief and solitude would make felix rely on oliver, and lovie would follow. it'd be just the three of them, just like oliver wanted.

a more canonical saltburn ending

as a final side note, i think even if everything worked out exactly the same, lovie is the most likely to live. if you think about it, oliver only killed off the cattons, which lovie isn’t. even though he views lovie as a part of felix, she'll always be the 'safer' version of him.

he'd keep her around as a sort of token, a reminder of that summer, the cattons, and most importantly felix. lovie's life and presence would become a memorial dedicated to felix in oliver's eyes.

however, oliver is impulsive and easily startled. if lovie found out that he killed felix (or anyone if we're going with the scenario that oliver decides to keep both felix and lovie and no one else), he'd probably get scared and impulsively kill lovie.

if lovie found out oliver lied, i think he'd try to manipulate her into keeping it a secret at first, but if she reacted the 'wrong' way he'd feel 'betrayed' enough to snap and kill her without thinking.

i can also see him trying to preemptively discredit her, maybe making felix think lovie has been using him, but i think he'd know it probably wouldn't work. lovie and felix are together constantly, in what moment would she have had the time to betray him 😭

#ask #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #bestfriend!felix #felix catton x reader #jacob elordi x reader #bestfriend!felix x reader

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 months

Note

hey could I be 🦕, if it's not taken?

I also have a request lol, could u do a meltdown comfort fic? ( definitely not requesting this be I had a meltdown over not having the right pasta sauce for my comfort/safe food) like where a male reader has a bunch of little things built up and it spills over when there's no more of readers comfort/safe food and they end up lashing out and having a meltdown because of it

anyways have a good evening,thx!

Hiya, I'm really sorry thats taken 😔 (I need to make a list lmao) - assuming you're not the other 🦕 anon currently in my drafts 😅

I hope this is okay, I don't have autism or meltdowns, so feel free to let me know if I've gotten anything wrong. I don't think the reader in this has a meltdown, he was distressed and then stims to regulate his emotions. But yeah, feel free to let me know if I get anything wrong, I don't want to offend anyone or anything.

Warnings: reader is distressed, meltdown

"(Y/N)? What's wrong-"

"Can you just fuck off?!" Everyone falls silent as the words burst from your mouth. You immediately look down, mentally scolding yourself for yelling at Hotch like that. Hotch. Of all people. Who had been nothing but kind to you since you joined. Who always made sure you were okay. Who was also your boss. "I- I'm sorry-" Your voice is quiet and Hotch has to strain his ears to hear you.

Instead of yelling, like everyone assumed he would, his gaze softens as he looks at you. "How about we head up to my office for a few minutes, okay?" His voice is reassuring and is doing nothing for your guilt and the dread for what he would say when it was just the two of you.

You hadn't meant to snap at him, but everything had just built up and built up and it was your tipping point. You should have just gone home.

It had started this morning when it turns out you had run out of milk - meaning you couldn't have cereal and a cup of coffee for breakfast. Then, you couldn't find the socks you had planned on wearing, you missed the early bus because of how long you had tried to find the socks you wanted to wear, and that made you almost late for work. And then, when you opened the fridge, it turns out someone had eaten the last of your safe foods you kept stocked up in the fridge.

You knew no one on the team would have taken it, they knew you were particular about your food (that's how you had worded it when you first joined the team - they knew the reasoning behind it now, of course but its still how you described it). And they always tried their best to make sure that you had food in the fridge that you liked.

You follow him to his office silently, you don't miss the look he shoots the rest of the team - who quickly make themselves look busy. So you don't feel more on edge than you already do. Your heart twinges at this. You had just yelled at him and here he was, being incredibly sweet to you.

When you reach his office, he shuts the door gently behind him and motions to the couch, you sit. "You don't have to speak until you're ready, whatever you need to do to help regulate your emotions is okay."

You take a moment to process his words before you give a small nod. It takes a few seconds before you gently start to rock, humming gently to yourself. Hotch sits down on the couch, at the other end. He wanted you to know he was there if you needed him, but enough space to do what you needed to. He slowly picked up the book on the coffee table, flicking to the page he was currently on.

Eventually, when your stimming comes to an end, Hotch closes the book. He had been keeping a close eye on you, not really paying attention to the book. He had just wanted to make you comfortable.

"You weren't reading," You state quietly.

"I wasn't," Hotch says with a nod.

"Thank you," You reply. You knew what he was doing - he had done it a few times during similar situations.

"That's alright," He gives a small (rare) smile, "Did you want to talk about what's going on?"

"It's just been a bad day." You shrug, "No coffee, no breakfast, wrong socks, and now no safe food," You felt your cheeks tint pink ever so slightly in embarrassment.

Hotch just nods, "I understand. What snack in particular were you craving?"

"I wanted a chocolate muffin," You shrugged, running a hand over your face. All you could think about was how stupid this all was.

"Is that the Starbucks one?" When you nod, Hotch smiles slightly and rummages about in his desk. "I had a feeling that this might happen at some point. So I stocked up on your safe foods." He said, pulling out a muffin. "There you go. As for drinks, take whatever you fancy,"

You look up, eyes slightly wide at the unexpected kindness. "Thank you,"

"That's alright, and (Y/N)?"

"Yeah?"

"Anytime you're feeling overwhelmed, or if the day isn't going quite right, you're more than welcome to come sit up here, okay?"

"Okay."

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #x male reader #reader #x reader #male reader #autistic reader #autistic male reader #hotch

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i4bellingham · 1 year

Text

ATTENTION: pablo gavi x reader

SYNOPSIS: in you're stumped with school works and gavi just wants you to spare him some time for cuddles.

NOTE: my first ever gavi fic hooray! *pops confetti* i literally wrote this instead of fixating my time to do my school works but i realized that school works doesn't give me a peace of mind unlike writing fanfiction does so of course i’d rather be here than do my school stuff-

If he could burn the pile of folders and papers stacked on your study table, Gavi definitely would.

But since he knows that it's important that you finish them and submit those papers to whichever nuisance gave them to you in the very first place, Gavi simply scoffed, pouted his lips, crossed his arms over his chest before the door closed right in front of his face.

You literally closed the door in front of him when he's sulking because hey! He can behave himself when you're studyingㅡ or doing those god forsaken school works.

You didn't have to shut him out, but you did. And that made the 18 year old frown even more before walking away, deciding to stay in the living room instead.

On the other hand, you began filing the papers that were due at an earlier date, placing them to your right and separating the rest to the left.

It was such a pain in the ass but you needed to graduate, at least one between you and Gavi needs to finish their studies for the sake of your future, your own future. And it's immediately concluded that it'd be you, seeing as how much Gavi already flourishes in his sport.

And you wanted to make a name for yourselfㅡ not wanting to be known simply as Gavi’s significant other when you know you can pave a way for your own success, hence why you're trying your best in college.

You are aware of Gavi's current disposition after you slammed the door shut in front of his face.

He had the tendency to be a tad bit overdramatic, clingy and just borderline possessive of your time and attention. He wants all of it to be directed to him but after a few months of competing with your resolute drive to do well in your studies, he had to make the adjustments in himself.

And as much as it pains him, he's actually very proud that you're steering your path to where you want it to. No matter if he has to fight inanimate papers for you to pay a semblance of attention to him, Gavi is happy and proud of you, knowing well that college in general wasn't an easy path to take and you're diving into it with determination and confidence.

Sighing, you began flipping through your tasks, wanting to finish a good portion of it just as much as you boyfriend.

It wasn’t until 4 hours later since you've started, already managing to finish 5 activities and 2 drafts for your literary essays when your phone pinged.

from: gavi 💛

around what time are you gonna pay attention to me?

You snort, pausing from stapling your papers as you lean back on your chair. You began typing your reply.

to: gavi 💛

i literally just talked to you not even 20 minutes ago when you brought me food

from: gavi 💛

SO?????

You chuckle, picturing him rolling his eyes at your response.

to: gavi 💛

just how much attention do you need pablo? 🙄

from: gavi 💛

ALL OF IT??? IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION

You shake your head, closing your phone before pocketing it and then turning the lights to your desk lamp off.

You stretched your body for a few minutes, releasing a groan when you hear your joints cracking before walking over to the door, twisting the knob open and letting yourself out.

Gavi was lying down on the sofa when you reached the living room, feet on the back rest with his head hanging at the edge of the seat.

“You’ll get dizzy when you stay in that position for much longer Gavi.”

Gavi turns his head to you with a sigh. “You were gone for hours.”

“Well I'm here now aren't I?” You pat his cheek, moving to sit down next to him.

Gavi lays his head on your lap, throwing his phone on the coffee table before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I was bored.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice as he close his eyes, nuzzling his face on your stomach as you began running your fingers through his hair.

“When are you ever not bored?”

“When you're with me.” He immediately replies. “I don’t get bored when you're with me.”

You roll your eyes playfully, throwing your head back against the soft cushion. “What do you peg me for? A comedian? A clown?”

“A nice company.” He tilts his head, chuckling at the way your mouth went agape at his answer.

You clear your throat before flicking his forehead.

“You’re such a smooth talker aren't you?”

Gavi grabs your free hand, kissing each knuckles before placing it over his cheeks.

“Just with you...”

You don't say anything, you don't comment on how red his own cheeks had gotten. He doesn't say add anything too.

Gavi pats the space beside him, silently asking you to lay with him and you silently do. He reaches a hand out to brush away the stray hair that fell on your face, letting you adjust yourself comfortably beside him with your head now over his chest.

Gavi wraps an arm around you, entangling your feet together before he leans down to kiss your forehead while rubbing slow circles on your back.

The two of you don’t say anything for a while, letting the silence prevail as you bask in the company of the otherㅡ Gavi's need for attention finally solved.

#☆ i4bellingham writes #☆ gavi #gavi x reader #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x you #pablo gavi x you #gavi fanfic #gavi fanfiction #gavi imagine #gavi imagines #gavi one shot #gavi blurb #gavi fluff

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readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure · 1 year

Note

Congratulations on 500 followers!!!

Could you do something with K and 13 for Darkling? I have this thought in mind he is married to the reader and they got in a fight or something or probably have been separated for a while now but are longing for each other. And somehow have been put in a situation where they are forced to share a bed. Could you make it a hea please?

Thank you very much!!!

One angsty Darkling fic with a happy ending coming right up.

K. Only one bed 13. ‘What happened to us?’

-----------------------------------------

It was only one night, you reminded yourself as you pulled your small trunk through the halls of the inn. You were in Ryevost on a job investigating a local people smuggling ring. Not usually a job for the Second Army, but the smugglers in question were rumoured to have been helping the drüskelle kidnap Grisha, and so there you were.

And so was he.

General Kirigan had taken this particular crime personally, and had decided to oversee the investigation himself, joining you, Ivan, and Fedyor.

The problem wasn’t that he had come on the trip, though it had made for an awkward coach ride. No, the problem was that the inn only had two rooms available. Obviously, Ivan and Fedyor had taken one, which left you and Kirigan to share the other. That was the problem

Not too long ago, things would have been different. In fact, you and Aleksander sharing a room would have been pre-decided. But that was when you were still married. Now the idea of sharing a personal space just felt hollow.

You had been separated for a few months now, and you had given up hope of reconciliation. You had left quietly after another night alone, leaving nothing but a note telling Aleksander that you had secured other rooms in the palace and would be taking more missions away. He had not come after you.

‘This is us,’ said Aleksander, unlocking the door at the very end of the hall. He held it open and let you enter first.

You mumbled your thanks as you passed him, but then immediately stopped short. There was only one bed. Which, of course there was only one bed… but for some reason you had expected there to be two.

‘I doubt I’ll sleep,’ said Aleksander, shutting the door behind him. ‘You have the bed.’

‘Are you sure?’ You may not have been what you once were to each other, but you still had your manners. There was no need to be rude.

Aleksander nodded, a soft smile on his lips.

That smile had no right to be there. He didn’t get to smile at you like that – like he still loved you – not after all these months alone.

So, you ignored it and decided to get unpacked. You had just placed your trunk on the bed when a cold draft hit you, making you shiver.

Great. Just what you needed.

Thankfully, this was one problem that could be fixed, and with a flick of your wrists, you sent a fireball into the fireplace, lighting the kindling.

‘Much better,’ you said to yourself.

A soft chuckle came from behind you, and you turned to see Aleksander watching you from the doorway. You hated how attractive you still found him. That smirk had always been you undoing.

‘You always did hate the cold,’ he said, nodding to the fireplace. You had lit the one in his rooms the same way many times before.

You shrugged and went back to your unpacking. ‘Some things never change, I guess.’

‘And yet some things change so suddenly,’ he said. He was no longer smiling.

He slowly walked towards you, as if he was scared you would run. ‘Milaya…’ You closed your eyes, tears threatening to spill at the sound of him calling you that. ‘What happened to us? Why did you leave?’

‘Why did you wait so long to ask?’ you shot back, anger overriding the pain. ‘And it wasn’t sudden, Aleksander. You left me long before I left you.’

Aleksander stopped his advance but did not refute your claim. He knew what you meant.

‘The war…’ he started but you cut across him.

‘I know how important the war is. I know it’s more important than I am.’ You sniffed and wiped away the solitary tear that had fallen down your cheek. ‘Just because I know it, doesn’t mean I want to be reminded of it every night when I go to bed alone. Or every morning when I wake up without the person who should be there.’

A few more tears fell, and you quickly wiped them away. This was exactly why sharing a room was a problem. It reminded you of what you had lost.

Suddenly, Aleksander’s hands were on your cheeks. You tried to move away, but he held firm. ‘I thought you didn’t love me anymore,’ he said, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

‘I don’t,’ you said, though you both knew it was a lie.

‘I thought you didn’t love me,’ he repeated. ‘That’s why I didn’t come knocking down your door the moment I found your note, begging you to give me another chance. The war is important, yes… but nothing is more important to me than you are. Certainly not my own heartbreak. So, I let you go because I thought that’s what you wanted.’

‘All I wanted was you,’ you said, openly crying now. ‘It hurt too much to keep losing you to the war.’

Aleksander leaned his head down to rest against yours and closed his eyes. ‘Give me another chance,’ he whispered. ‘I know I’m far too late, but please, milaya. Let me show you how important you are.’

You reached up stroke his bearded cheek. It was a lot more unkept than you remembered it, though still within the standards for a General. ‘Promise me you’ll make time for us,’ you said. ‘I don’t need you by my side every moment of every day, but I need something, Aleksander. I’m your wife.’

Aleksander’s eyes snapped open, alight with hope. ‘I’ll give you as much time as you want,’ he said without hesitation. ‘I’ll give anything.’

You could tell that he meant every word, which was what made you lean forward to bring your lips to his.

It started as a soft kiss, one that tested the waters after so long apart, but Aleksander soon deepened it. He kissed you like a man possessed, desperate to make the most of something he may never get again. You felt all his hope, guilt, and longing, and so you gave him all your emotions in return. All your pain, all your heartbreak.

And all your love.

You had no idea how long you stood there, lost in each other, but eventually you had to come up for air. ‘Move back in with me,’ he said, still breathless. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

You realised you could be setting yourself up for more heartache, but you just couldn’t ignore what your heart was telling you.

You smiled softly and nodded.

‘I’ve missed you, too.’

#darkling x reader #darkling x you #the darkling x reader #darkling prompts #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader

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taintandviolent · 9 months

Text

le petite mort; James March x Reader

summary: After checking into one of the Hotel Cortez, a conversation with the bartender plagues your mind with dirty thoughts. Some guy catches you pleasuring yourself in the hotel room - and that some guy happens to be the owner of the Hotel. w a r n i n g s: 2k words! shameless smut! female masturbation, accidental voyeurism, slight humiliation, choking / asphyxiation, mentions of death (kinda). a/n: this is one of the first JPM fics that I started writing, and I felt that it finally needed to be finished and out of my drafts. hopefully it's not ASS. this is s shorter one, which feels alien to me, but c'est comma ça. hope everyone enjoys it!

full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here!

“Most people who check into the Hotel Cortez are hipsters wanting a taste of the art deco, or junkies and prostitutes looking to have a quick night in a cheap room.” She set the glass down carefully on the ornate bar, sliding it towards you with one finger.

The bartender didn’t hesitate in striking up a conversation after you’d sat down, angling your two suitcases on one side of the stool. The thought immediately manifested itself between your legs, and you shifted. If only. It had been so long since you’d had a good fuck that at this point, you’d even take a quick night. Maybe not with a junkie, but….

“I guess I kind of fall into the first category. But, I am here for a friend’s wedding. I didn’t want to stay where everyone else was staying.” You tilted your head back, letting the remainder of the amber slide down your throat. “I wish I was in the second category… maybe minus the junkies and prostitutes bit. But…” You trailed off with a shrug.

“Oh believe me, sweetheart. I know exactly what you mean. Women have needs.”

As you gathered your bags, your peripheral caught someone with dark hair watching you. Naturally, when you turned to look at them, you were met with an empty bar. Of course, because this is an old hotel and probably haunted.

“Thanks, Liz. It’s been a treat.”

She said nothing, only bowed her head with her long arms resting widely on the bar. You made a mental note to come back to the bar for another drink. But for now, it was time to unwind in your hotel room.

After getting settled, and a much needed hot shower — washing that airplane sludge off you was mandatory — you were finally relaxed. The wedding wasn’t until Saturday, so you had plenty of time to do whatever made its way into your mind. Maybe order some room service. Maybe peruse the hotel for some history, spend hours reading the informative little plaques that decorated the wall — every old hotel had them. Maybe masturbate…. Oh. Yes. Definitely that. That was first on the list, actually.

Dropping your towel to your feet, you pulled an old tattered t-shirt over your head, and hurried to the bed. Silly that you had any sort of modesty in an empty hotel room, it was after all, your hotel room. Could’ve and should’ve just bolted across the floor naked.

Suddenly, the radio on the table across from you crackled to life, the speakers expelling a high-pitched voice singing jovially amongst violins and some sort of wind instrument. After a few moments, it switched off with a burst of static. Lids heavy with arousal, you stared sleepily at the radio, resolving to unplug it before you went to sleep that night. Old wiring could be tolerated, but things turning on in the middle of the night was nightmare fuel.

You pressed the pad of your middle finger between the folds, delving further down to your entrance, where you pulled up some of the slick to lubricate your clit. The sensation made your eyelids flutter. Jesus, that conversation with the bartender had really gone straight to the cunt — you were clearly longing for something. Someone who would bring something new, something exciting to the table. You already dreaded the polite flirting that was going to occur at the wedding.

Your fingers circled your clit, bringing the sensitivity as high as you could for as long as you could before you felt the hot clench of an orgasm rush over you. Expelling a high pitched moan, you slipped your middle and ring finger inside, pumping in and out to bring yourself over the edge. You let out a few hoarse breaths as your hips dug into the creaky mattress, riding out the pleasure.

“My, my…”

You stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling, trying to figure out if that had been some weird, orgasm-induced hallucination.

“La petite mort, as the French call it.”

You yelped, pulling your wet fingers from your cunt. Unless the bartender had slipped something in your drink, the man at the edge of your bed was definitely not a hallucination. Dark hair styled so that not a single strand was out of place, no facial hair save for a thin moustache that decorated his upper lip, and a suit so pristine, you wondered if he’d just come off a film set. It was LA after all.

“Jesus Christ,” you sputtered, panting unevenly. “What?!” The way he stood at the edge of the bed, hands layered atop a cane was so paternal and overbearing it made you feel like a child caught watching porn on a school night. There was nothing to be embarrassed of; you were a grown woman in a hotel room that you paid for.

“A little death,” he replied. “A temporary weakness, a loss of consciousness. It became a poetic euphemism for orgasm in the late eighteen-hundreds.”

“Thanks for the history lesson,” you murmured, mouth curling downward in irritation. “Have you ever heard of knocking!?”

He pushed his bottom lip into his top, pulling his chin up in a challenging expression. One eyebrow quirked. “You wouldn’t have heard me if I had.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but promptly snapped it shut. He had you there. A soft, melodic rapping on a door would’ve been lost amongst your whimpers and groans. Laughably so.

“Who the fuck even are you!? I’m going to call front desk — this is weird.” Frustrated, you wipe your slick fingers on the sheet beneath you before reaching for the phone. Suddenly, he was beside you, and the energy that radiated off of him made your leg muscles spasm.

The woman on the other end sounded annoyed.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she repeated, sounding like she was trying to suss out if this was a prank call.

“I would um, like someone removed from my hotel room. Security, or something.”

“We don’t have security.”

“Okay, that’s outrageous, but — there’s just some fucking guy in my room.”

You’re met with silence. The old plastic of the receiver creaked in your grip, your eyes darting back to him. He was smiling. Proudly.

“Tell them my name.”

You jerked your head forward, contorting your face in defiance, and wordlessly asking for clarification.

“Repeat after me, ‘The man in my room is James Patrick March, and I’d like him removed at once.’”

You felt your eyes narrow into slits, confused. Somewhere deep inside your core, you felt a clench at his sternness. “Go on, my dear.” He urged.

You cleared your throat resentfully.

“The man in my room is… James Patrick March and I’d like him removed at once.”

The line crackled. Instead of the usual static one would expect, terrifying sounds blared through the receiver; hisses and condescending sniggering. Eventually, you make out the harsh sound of a full bellied laugh. The woman was laughing.

“The owner? The owner of the hotel?” The laughing continued.

The tip of his cane came clunking down into the switch-hook, where he held it for several seconds — for poignancy? Dramatic effect? The dial tone startled you.

“I paid for this hotel room, okay? I do—“ You started, stiffly returning the receiver to the cradle.

“You did, did you?” He asked, his voice raising gleefully. The change in tone unsettled you. Deeply. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you reached for the edge of the duvet, scratching your nails at it to bring it up around your bare legs.

He watched you intently, almost smiling. Was he waiting for you to say something? Jesus.

“Ye-yeah… I paid for it.”

“Ah!” He exclaimed.

You jumped.

“I own this hotel, you see.” He gestured enthusiastically to the room, your eyes following it as though you hadn’t already spent a night in it. “I own it all. Down to the sheets you were pleasuring yourself on moments ago.”

You glanced at them. “Finished on, actually.”

“Yes — I know. Shame. I would’ve taken great pride in doing that myself.”

Your jaw dropped, and you pressed your legs together until you felt the pressure against your cunt. Your stomach tied itself in knots.

“Is the thought odious to you?” He inquired, almost softly, like he was trying to appeal to your gentler nature.

You remained silent, rubbing at the veins in your wrist. Eventually, after mulling it over (or gaining the confidence to do so), you shook your head.

“I thought not.” He may have been a complete stranger, but the way melodic way he crooned and growled every word made you dizzy. With the back of his hand, he swept a strand of hair from your brow, his knuckles ghosting over your cheek.

“Show me,” he ordered, running a single finger along your collarbone.

His hands wrapped around your throat, and heat blossomed in your cheeks. At first, his fingers were pressing on either side of your throat and the arousal flowed freely again, delighted by the concept of a mysteriously sexual one night stand. Admittedly, he wasn’t going in easy, but you weren’t a saint. You’d had your fair share of dudes who thought they were a Dom. This guy though… he wasn’t that. He didn’t get his tendencies from sneaking peeks at his girlfriend’s Cosmopolitan. He certainly hadn’t killed your arousal with his decision.

He shifted his weight on top of you, pulling the breathiest moan from your lips. The way his pointer finger roughly traced your jawbone drove you wild. His hands were just cold enough to feel unusual, but they were soft and possessed an unanticipated strength.

All at once, the pressure shifted to the front, his palm compressing against your trachea. Your brows furrowed at the sudden discomfort. His gaze was locked on your face, raptly watching the changing expressions.

You grasped at his hand, flailing as the oxygen started dwindling. Your head felt heavy and the sensation of your vision darkening around the edges frightened you. Your muscles tensed instinctively. He didn’t let up, and the panic wound itself in between your ribs like a snake. With your heart pounding, you began fighting recklessly, desperately trying to reach for anything.

James saw the nearly final change, and with a delighted gaze, eased up. “Exhilarating!”

You gasped, your lungs moaning as they sucked in air. The sound was disturbing to you, and sounded inhuman. “You almost killed me…”

“Hardly, my dear! Brain death occurs in four to five minutes. You triumphantly endured a mere ten seconds!”

“A…little… death.” He whispered each word delicately over your lips, hovering mere centimetres above yours. He was intoxicating, whatever it was he was putting off. Unbeknownst to you, your legs dropped open, hungry for more.

He looked down, eyes scanning over your thighs, your knees, and to the lush, inviting garden between them. One hand returned to your throat, compressing it slightly. You whimpered at the now-familiar sensation, and scooted your body down further on the bed, through his legs.

“Good! Yes,” he praised. “Succumb to your urges.”

As though he’d reached into your brain and simply made you do it, your fingers were on your cunt, playing with your wet folds before you had a second to process that you'd even done it. It was already sensitive, your touches had you galloping towards a second, overstimulated orgasm. With his free hand, James enveloped your hand with his large one, cupping it easily. You writhed uncontrollably, whimpering. He growled in delight at the feeling of your vocal cords humming beneath his palm.

“St-stop,” you cried out weakly, the pressure on your throat making you sound altogether pathetic.

“Very well then, I will.” He said, abruptly releasing the pressure on your throat. “I will, but you won’t.”

You almost protested the action, though that would’ve been an embarrassing blow to your ego had you actually done it. Begging him to stop then begging him to continue? Shameful. How much more of a desperate whore could you be, honestly? “Go on - since you’re so fond of it. Show me.”

He took in a seat in the velvet chair directly parallel to the bed, one leg crossed casually over the other. His dark eyes were aflame with interested, erotic hunger. You slipped one finger in, making a slutty show of how wet you were. Two fingers, and you arched your back, moaning loud.

“Another,” he crooned. You obeyed, wincing at the fullness. You curled your fingers up, pressing into the spongy flesh that made you writhe like a worm on a hook. You began leaking onto the mattress below, a mess of cum and sweat. James watched you as you fingered yourself again and again, pleasuring yourself over and over in every way you knew how until your legs were quivering with the overstimulation.

“Die a little death, my darling, go on…”

You came. Hard. Screaming, shaking and spilling out onto the sheets beneath you. With your hand laying limp over your damp cunt, twitching every so often, your breathing gradually slowed. Of course, when you lifted your head, the man was gone, leaving nothing but the quiet echo of his satisfied ‘Mmmm…’

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