landojpg04

[landojpg04]

A Bet Well Lost - Garrick Tavis

⸻ image credits to scribe.jesinia ⸻

summary: What started as a playful bet between Garrick and Y/N quickly turns into an intense game of desire, neither willing to break first—until the tension becomes unbearable.

pairing: garrick tavis x fem!reader warnings: MDNI!, smut, swearing, unprotected p in v, oral (m) word count: 6k

This request and idea was submitted by anon. And this is for all the anons who have asked for Garrick smut. I am not the best at writing smut, but I hope you like it. And oops, I got carried away. 💙

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

The sparring ring was nearly empty, save for a few cadets nursing their bruises and muttering about their losses. Garrick rolled his shoulders, his uniform clinging to him. His dark brown hair was damp, a few strands falling over his forehead as he watched her—watched her with the kind of unwavering focus that made it impossible to ignore.

"You hesitated," she accused as she wiped sweat from her forehead. Garrick’s mouth curved slightly, something knowing flickering in his gaze. "I don’t hesitate." She stepped closer, crossing the few feet between them with deliberate ease. "You did." His expression didn’t waver. "I had the shot," he agreed, tilting his head slightly, his smirk deepening. "And I chose not to take it."

Heat curled through her stomach, her pulse ticking faster. That was the problem with Garrick—he never just said things. Everything had weight. Meaning. Intent. She narrowed her eyes. "Because you didn’t want to, or because you couldn’t?" Garrick exhaled through his nose, the sound almost amused, almost dangerous. Instead of answering, he took a step forward—just one, but enough to make the space between them nonexistent.

"You really want to go there, darling?" His voice was low, rough. The tension crackled like lightning in the air. Yes. The word nearly slipped past her lips, but she caught it at the last second, swallowing down the rush of warmth that spread through her chest. Instead, she lifted her chin, her own smirk forming. "You think you have more restraint than me, Tavis?"

His eyes darkened slightly. "I know I do." A laugh escaped her. "Now that’s something I’d be willing to bet on." Garrick’s expression shifted, intrigue flickering in his gaze before settling into something sharper. "A bet?" She nodded, feeling the shift between them, the anticipation curling tight. "First one to cave loses." Silence stretched, thick and heavy. His jaw ticked. "Define ‘cave.’" Her gaze dipped to his lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting his eyes again. "You know exactly what I mean."

A muscle feathered in his jaw. Got him. His exhale was slow, measured, as if he were considering his options. "And what does the winner get?" Her lips curled. "Whatever they want." Something dangerous flickered in his gaze, something that sent a sharp, traitorous thrill down her spine. But then he masked it, his face smoothing into something unreadable.

"Fine," he said, voice edged with challenge. "You’re on." Satisfaction unfurled in her chest, but before she could revel in it, another voice cut through the space between them. "You two are absolute idiots." They both turned to find Xaden standing a few feet away, arms crossed, watching them like they were the most predictable people he'd ever met.

"You’re seriously making this a bet?" he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. "It’s a matter of principle," Garrick said smoothly, not even blinking. Xaden snorted. "Right. Because self-control is something either of you are known for." She crossed her arms. "We’ll see." Xaden gave them both a long look before shaking his head. "Well, this is going to be entertaining." He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back. "By the way, you’re both on the same assignment this week. Try not to let your little game interfere."

Her stomach dropped. Garrick muttered a quiet curse. Xaden smirked. "Good luck." And with that, he was gone, leaving them standing there. Garrick dragged a hand down his face before glancing at her. "Still think you’re going to win?" She forced herself to look confident, despite the warning bells going off in her head. "Oh, I know I am."

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

If the universe had any sense of fairness, the bet would have remained simple. But no—Xaden had to go and assign them to the same task, shoving them into close quarters for an entire week like the smug bastard he was. Inventory checks. Weapons inventory checks. Which meant long hours alone in the smallest damn supply closet in Basgiath, knee-to-knee, surrounded by shelves of sharpened steel, flight gear, and tension so thick she could choke on it.

Garrick leaned back against a crate, long legs stretched out in front of him, casually flipping through a parchment log like he wasn’t the problem. Like he wasn’t sitting way too close. Like he hadn’t just passed her another list a moment ago, his fingers brushing hers, the contact brief but devastating.

"Tell me again how this is fair," she muttered, eyes scanning the inventory sheet in her hands even though she hadn’t actually read a single word. Garrick smirked but didn’t look up. "You sound like you’re about to lose already." She shot him a glare. "I’m not losing." He chuckled, low and warm, and she felt it everywhere. Bastard. The first few hours had been fine—manageable, at least. They had kept it professional, methodically moving through crates of weapons, accounting for every last dagger and reinforced breastplate. But then it started.

The proximity. The accidental brushes of skin when they reached for the same quill. The way his voice wrapped around her name. The lingering glances, the heat in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking. And worst of all? She was looking. At the way the muscles in his forearms flexed as he adjusted a set of throwing knives. At the thin sheen of sweat on his collarbone, a reminder of how hard they had trained that morning. At the way his shirt clung just a little too well, outlining the ridges of his chest and stomach in a way that was completely unfair.

And the way he knew exactly what he was doing to her. She exhaled sharply, dropping her list onto the crate beside her. "You’re doing this on purpose." Garrick finally looked up, brow lifting. "Doing what?" Oh, he was so smug. "Existing obnoxiously close to me." That earned her a real laugh. "Darling, you’re the one leaning into my space." She hadn’t been. Had she? Her back straightened instantly, and his smirk only deepened.

"That’s what I thought," he murmured. Her stomach tightened, the heat in her veins pulsing stronger. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. She wasn’t going to be the first to break. "Just count the daggers, Tavis," she snapped, crossing her arms. His lips twitched. "Yes, ma’am." They fell back into silence, but it was a loaded kind of quiet. The kind where every movement mattered—where she was suddenly aware of the way her breathing synced with his, the way his knee was close enough to hers that one shift would have them touching.

And the worst part? She wanted to shift. Her skin prickled with awareness, and she swore she could feel his gaze flicker to her mouth, then lower. She swallowed. Damn this bet. Damn Xaden for trapping them here. Damn Garrick for looking at her like that. By the time they finished the last of the logs, she was burning, every inch of her on edge, coiled tight from the sheer restraint it took not to cross the invisible line between them.

She gathered the last parchment, moving to stand—but so did he. And they collided. Chest to chest. The air thickened. His hands instinctively caught her arms, warm and firm, steadying her. But the real problem was her hands—because they had landed against his chest, her fingers brushing against heated, soft fabric, and she felt everything. The solid strength beneath her palms. The way his breath hitched just slightly.

They should have stepped back. Neither of them did. His grip on her arms tightened, just a fraction. Barely anything at all. But her pulse pounded at the feeling of his thumbs stroking over her bare skin—slow, deliberate, dangerous. Her throat went dry. His jaw was clenched, the muscle feathering as his eyes dropped to her lips. For a second—a single, heart-pounding second—she thought he was going to break first.

Then he exhaled sharply and took a full step back, his hands dropping away. "Goodnight," he said, voice rough. And then he was gone, leaving her standing there, completely wrecked. She pressed her fingers to her lips, her pulse still thrumming wildly. She was so, so fucked. 

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

If she was going to win this bet, she needed to stop playing defense. Garrick was too good at keeping his composure, too good at resisting—barely, but still. And worse? She was starting to lose her mind. Every accidental touch, every glance, every damn second alone with him in that suffocatingly small inventory room had wound her so tight she felt like she was going to snap.

So. Time for a power move. She didn’t overthink it. That was the key—if she let herself hesitate, she’d back out. And she refused to back out. Not when she had him right there, walking the edge of his restraint. She waited until late that night, when most of the quadrant had settled, and made her way to Garrick’s room. The halls were quiet, torchlight flickering against the stone walls, but her pulse thundered in her ears, loud enough to drown out the silence.

She knocked once. The door opened a moment later, revealing him. Shirtless. And gods, that was a problem. His dark hair was damp, freshly washed, and he had clearly been getting ready for bed, sweatpants slung low on his hips, the deep grooves of his stomach flexing as he froze completely. Because of her. Because of what she was wearing.

A silk nightgown, thin straps over her shoulders, the fabric dipping low enough to tease. The hem stopped mid-thigh, too short, too sheer, too dangerous. She smiled. "Hi." His jaw locked. His hand was still gripping the doorframe, but he wasn’t moving—wasn’t even breathing. Just staring. The reaction was everything she wanted. "Are you—" He cleared his throat. Tried again. "What are you doing?"

She stepped past him, deliberately brushing against his side as she walked into his room. "Relax, Tavis. I just came to talk." "Talk," he repeated, his voice flat. She perched herself on the edge of his bed, crossing her legs slowly. His eyes flicked downward, barely a second, but she saw it. The way he caught himself too late, the sharp inhale, the slight flare of his nostrils.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Something wrong?" His fingers twitched at his sides before he scrubbed a hand over his jaw. "You know exactly what you're doing." She smiled. "Do I?" Garrick exhaled through his nose, a slow, measured sound, like he was holding on by a thread. "Darling," he said, low and edged with warning, "you should leave."

She leaned back on her hands, arching slightly, letting the silk shift just enough to give him a view of bare skin. "Why?" He muttered a curse, turning away, hands planted on his hips as if he needed a second. She laughed softly. "Oh, come on. What happened to all that restraint?" He was not amused. His head tipped back, eyes closed for a second before he dragged his hands down his face. Then he turned—slowly.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes? Burning. The air thickened between them, the tension so thick she could almost reach out and touch it. She wanted him to break. To snap. To lose. But then—"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured, voice low and dark. A thrill shot through her, and she held his gaze as she ran her fingers along the edge of her nightgown, tracing the silk idly. "Am I?"

His hands curled into fists at his sides. "Yes." She smiled, slow and sweet. "Then why aren’t you stopping me?" His entire body tensed. For a second, just a second, she thought she had him. Then, in a move so fast she barely had time to react, he was suddenly in front of her, looming, one hand braced on the bed beside her, the other gripping her chin.

Her breath caught. "Garrick—" "You really want to test me, darling?" he murmured. The room felt too hot. His thumb brushed along her jaw, barely a touch, but she felt it everywhere. A warning. A promise. And a mistake. Because the second he touched her, she knew he wasn’t unaffected. That he was so close to breaking. That he wanted her just as badly. Her lips parted, a sharp inhale catching in her throat.

His eyes dropped to her mouth. He was right there. One move. One move, and he’d be done. His fingers flexed slightly—hesitating. And then, cursing violently, he wrenched himself away. She blinked, chest rising and falling too fast, her body still humming from the near contact. Garrick was already across the room, running a hand through his hair, breathing heavy. "Go," he said, voice rough. "Before I forget why I’m still holding back."

Garrick was standing near the window now, his back to her, shoulders tense as if he were trying to hold it all in. His muscles rippled under his shirt, the fabric strained, and she could almost hear his heartbeat from across the room. He was resisting. She could see it, feel it, even in the air between them. She tilted her head, studying him. "You're really trying, aren't you?" His voice was low, rough when he replied. "I don’t lose."

She smiled, the corner of her lips curling up slowly. "You’ve been saying that for days now." "And I’m not going to lose tonight," he muttered, still not turning to face her, as if pretending the space between them could shield him from whatever was coming. She knew the exact moment when his control started to slip. The second he exhaled sharply, fingers curling into fists, the muscles in his neck tightening. She had him on edge, and it was exactly where she wanted him. She leaned back on her hands, stretching just enough for the nightgown to slide higher up her thighs. Her movements were languid, deliberate.

"Still holding out?" she teased, her voice low, full of challenge. "How long do you think you can last, Garrick?" He clenched his jaw. "As long as it takes," he growled. She stood up then, slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. She stepped closer. The space between them shrank, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t stop. No, she couldn’t now.

Her fingers brushed his arm lightly as she passed by, just a gentle graze, but it was enough to make him flinch, enough to send a surge of electricity through the air between them. She wasn’t looking at him directly, but she could feel his gaze burning into the side of her face, and it made her stomach flip in anticipation.

She stopped just in front of him, close enough that their breaths mingled, the heat of his body surrounding her. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands flexed at his sides like he was trying to stop himself from reaching for her. She wanted him to reach for her. She wanted to break him.

"You can’t hold out forever, Garrick," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper, but it was the one thing she knew would push him over the edge. The change was instantaneous. His eyes, once filled with restraint, darkened, the flicker of something dangerous sparking in them. He reached for her, the movement so fast, so fluid, that she barely had time to react before his hand was on her arm, his fingers digging into her skin. He spun her, slamming her back against the nearest wall with a force that stole her breath.

The impact was sharp, but the warmth of his body pressed against hers made it all feel like fire. His chest was against hers, his breath ragged as he held her in place, his hand gripping her wrist above her head. The other hand was braced against the wall beside her, keeping her in place, his fingers just inches from her face. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, the tension in every muscle, and the way his body was trembling with the need to break.

"Stop," he rasped, but even to his own ears, it sounded like a plea. "I won’t lose. Not to you." Her pulse was erratic, but she fought to keep her composure. She lifted her chin, her breath mingling with his. "Who says you’ve lost already?" she teased, her voice breathy, almost mocking. But the way he looked at her told her everything she needed to know. She could see the fight was over.

His lips crashed down on hers without warning, hard, desperate. She moaned into the kiss, her hands flying to his chest, pressing herself even closer to him, her body arching against the firm heat of his. He responded immediately, his mouth bruising hers with the same wild intensity that was coursing through both of them. Every touch was frantic, as if he were trying to make up for every second of restraint.

His grip on her wrist loosened only slightly as he shifted his hand to her waist, pulling her against him with an urgency that left her breathless. She felt him—felt every hard muscle of his body. His hands were everywhere now, trailing over her, tugging at the fabric of her nightgown, his fingertips burning hot against her skin. She gasped when he pulled away, just long enough to look at her, his chest heaving as he struggled to control himself.

"Gods, you have no idea what you’ve done," he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and desire. She didn’t let him say more, didn’t give him the chance to back away. She surged forward, her hands pushing him back against the wall, her lips finding his again, more forcefully this time. He groaned as her body pressed into his, and she felt the last of his resolve crumble away.

The moment her back hit the wall, Garrick knew he was done for. The fight was over. The bet? Lost. And he didn’t even care. Because the way she was looking at him now—lips kiss-bruised, breath shaky, pupils blown wide with need—had him wondering why the fuck he’d held out this long in the first place. She wasn’t teasing anymore. Not now. Now, it was real. And gods, he was going to take his time with this. Make her feel every second of it. His fingers brushed up her thigh, dragging slow and deliberate over soft, exposed skin.

She shivered, and fuck, he felt that too. Felt it in the way her body pressed closer, in the way her hands curled into his shoulders, as if she needed something to hold onto. He grinned, pressing his mouth against the hollow of her throat. "I am not sure if your actions count as a win either." His voice was low, rough. Dangerous. Her breath hitched. Then—a smirk. "Oh for sure, Garrick." She shifted, pressing her hips against him, exactly where he needed her most.

His grip tightened. She bit her lip, eyes gleaming with victory. "And now shut up and fuck me." Fuck. She was playing with fire. And this time, he wasn’t stepping away. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin just below her jaw, earning him a sharp inhale, her fingers tangling into his hair as she arched into him. "Bold words," he murmured, letting his hands wander, savoring the way she melted under his touch. "But I don’t think you understand what you’ve just started."

She swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. "Then show me." Oh, he would. He fucking would. He kissed her slow at first—deep and consuming, drinking her in like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to memorize the taste of her, the feel of her, the way she gasped against his mouth. She tugged at his shirt, nails scraping over muscle, impatient. But Garrick wasn’t about to let her rush this.

Not after all the godsdamned torture she’d put him through. His hands skimmed lower, purposefully slow, dragging over her waist, her hips, down her thighs—everywhere but where he knew she wanted him most. She let out a frustrated whimper, tilting her head back against the wall. "You’re really gonna make me wait now?" He smirked against her skin. "Should’ve thought about that before you started this bet." She huffed, tugging at his hair. "Asshole."

His teeth grazed her collarbone, lips curving into a smirk. "You love it." She didn’t deny it. And then—she lost patience. Her legs tightened around his waist, her hands moving to his belt, and—fuck. Any thought of teasing her vanished. Because godsdamn, he couldn’t wait anymore either. His grip shifted, and in a single move, he lifted her, carrying her across the room, never breaking contact as he lowered her onto the bed.

She landed with a breathless laugh, looking up at him through dark, heavy-lidded eyes. "You caved first," she whispered. Garrick braced himself over her, pinning her down, his body flush against hers. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. Then he smiled—slow and wicked. "Darling," he murmured, dipping his head so his lips brushed against her ear. Then, in a voice full of promise—full of absolute certainty—"I’m about to make damn sure you don’t care." And then—He did.

His lips crashed against hers in a heated kiss, tongues tangling in a battle he easily won, claiming her with each stroke. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against her mouth. The sound sent heat pooling between her thighs. Desperate to feel more, she grabbed the hem of his shirt, dragging it over his head. The sight of his bare chest—sculpted muscle, so strong—sent a fresh wave of arousal through her.

“You’re so fucking hot,” she groaned, her eyes raking over him. Garrick smirked, his hands already sliding down to her hips, fingers digging in as he pulled her flush against him. Their bodies aligned perfectly, pressing in all the right places, and the moment she felt the hard length of him straining against his pants, a needy whimper escaped her lips.

“Jump.” The command was gruff, laced with raw desire, and she obeyed without hesitation, wrapping her legs around his waist. The moment she did, friction sparked between them, making her grind against him instinctively. She felt him grow harder, thicker, and the sheer size of him sent a shiver down her spine.

“I need to feel your skin on mine,” she breathed, already tugging at her own shirt. He held her steady as she stripped it off, taking full advantage of how easily he lifted her. His mouth found her neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her pulse point before sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

His hands slid behind her, deftly unclasping her bra, and the second it was free, he pulled it down her arms, tossing it aside. He leaned back slightly, gaze devouring her, dark with hunger. “You are so fucking sexy,” he rasped. His eyes flicked to her breasts, and she smirked, bringing a hand up to his hair and pulling him down. He got the message immediately. His lips latched onto her nipple, sucking it into his mouth while his other hand kneaded the soft flesh of her other breast. The sensation sent a sharp, electric pleasure straight to her core, making her moan as her head fell back against the wall.

And then, suddenly, her back wasn’t against the wall anymore. The next thing she knew, she was on his bed, sprawled beneath him, legs already falling open around his broad frame. Garrick hovered over her, his gaze heavy, full of want. Slowly, he reached for the button of her pants, popping it open, his eyes never leaving hers. She bit her lower lip, anticipation thrumming through her veins as he dragged both her pants and panties down in one slow, deliberate motion.

Licking his lips, he leaned back over her, capturing her mouth in another searing kiss before letting his hand slide between her thighs. “Mmm, do you want my fingers, darling?” he murmured against her lips, the barest trace of his fingertip teasing her clit, featherlight and maddening. “Please,” she gasped, arching into his touch. “I want you so bad.”

His lips ghosted along her jaw. “What do you want?” “I want your fingers in my cunt, right now,” she growled, tugging him closer. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, but he obeyed, sliding two fingers through her slick folds before pushing them into her with ease. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet for me,” he groaned, watching the way she clenched around him. “It’s like your body was made for this.”

Y/N moaned, rolling her hips to meet his thrusts, her walls fluttering around his fingers. His pace was torturously slow at first, teasing, but when she whimpered his name, he curled them just right, pressing against that perfect spot that made her toes curl. “Oh, fuck, Garrick,” she moaned, her body tensing as pleasure coiled tight inside her. He smirked, his free hand bracing against her thigh to hold her in place. “Come for me, darling.”

The command sent her spiraling, her orgasm crashing over her. She trembled beneath him, crying out his name, her body shuddering as he coaxed her through the pleasure, thrusting his fingers a few more times before withdrawing. She barely had time to catch her breath before he was kissing her again, swallowing her soft moans.

“Fuck, your fingers feel like heaven,” she panted. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Wait until you feel my cock inside you.” She didn’t need to be told twice. Her hands were already at the waistband of his pants, yanking them down. His cock sprang free, hard and thick, and her breath hitched. If she was being honest, Garrick might have the most perfect cock she had ever seen.

A devilish grin spread across her lips as she ran her hands over his broad chest, down his sides, then lower, fingers skimming over his hips before she leaned in. Starting slow, she let the tip of her tongue glide along the underside of his balls, savoring the way he twitched under her touch. “Gods,” he groaned, his breath stuttering as she licked her way up his shaft.

She took the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue before sinking lower, inch by inch, until she had most of him inside. Her lips hollowed around him, sucking as she pulled back, letting her tongue drag along the underside. Garrick’s hands tangled in her hair, gripping it into a makeshift ponytail so he could watch her take him in. His other hand traced along her spine before grabbing a handful of her ass, squeezing hard. She moaned around him, sending vibrations down his length.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well,” he groaned, his hips twitching forward. She hummed in response, wrapping a hand around the base of him while her other reached down to palm his balls. His moans deepened, his grip tightening in her hair as she took him deeper, pushing herself until he hit the back of her throat. His chest rose and fell with heavy, labored breaths, his abs flexing as he fought for control. But when she looked up at him through her lashes, he lost it.

“Fuck, darling, you need to stop,” he groaned, his hands pulling her off him. His lips crashed against hers, kissing her like he needed her more than air. “I’m going to fuck this needy cunt so hard,” he rasped against her lips. “So deep that the only thing you’ll be able to think about is me buried inside you.” Her thighs clenched at his words, heat flooding her core. “Gods, Garrick, please.”

He smirked, satisfied. “So desperate, darling.” Lining himself up, he thrust inside her with one firm stroke, filling her to the hilt. “Oh, fuck,” she moaned, nails digging into his shoulders as he set a relentless pace, each snap of his hips hitting the perfect angle. He growled, pulling out suddenly, flipping her onto her stomach before dragging her hips up. Then he drove into her again, the new angle making her cry out.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Look at you, taking every inch like you were made for me.” His words sent her spiraling again, pleasure crashing over her. “Please don’t stop,” she moaned, trembling beneath him. “I can feel you tightening around me,” he rasped. “Come for me, darling. Scream my name.” 

Her orgasm ripped through her, leaving her shuddering and screaming his name. Garrick followed with a guttural groan, his release spilling deep inside her as he rode out his own high. Collapsing beside her, he pulled her against him, pressing lazy kisses along her shoulder. “Fuck,” she panted. Garrick chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Told you I’d make you scream.”

Garrick was spent—physically, mentally, utterly wrecked in the best possible way. And so was Y/N. She lay sprawled across his chest, her bare skin flushed, her breaths still uneven as she tried to recover from what had just happened. From him. Garrick smirked, running a lazy hand down her spine, relishing the way she shivered under his touch, the way she fit against him so perfectly. "You okay there, darling?" His voice was low, teasing, his fingers tracing slow, torturous circles against her hip.

She let out a soft huff, nuzzling closer but refusing to look at him. He chuckled. "What? No smug comeback?" Still nothing. Then, quietly, "Shut up." His grin widened. There it is. "You sound a little—" He rolled, flipping them effortlessly until she was pinned beneath him again, his weight warm and solid and way too pleased with himself. "—defeated." Her eyes narrowed, finally lifting to meet his. "You wish."

He dipped his head, letting his lips graze just under her ear. "Oh, I don’t have to wish," he murmured, voice all honey and heat. "I won." She snorted. Actually snorted. Garrick lifted his head, arching a brow. "Something funny?" She grinned up at him, looking like she had some grand secret. "You caved first." Garrick sighed dramatically, pressing his forehead against hers. "We’re really doing this?" "We are." "You literally—" he kissed her, slow and sweet, before pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes— "—couldn’t wait to get my shirt off."

Her lips twitched. "You’re the one who put me against a wall like some desperate man who couldn’t resist." He let out a deep groan, dropping onto his back beside her, staring at the ceiling. "Unbelievable," he muttered. She giggled, shifting to prop herself on her elbow. "Garrick Tavis, loser of bets—" He grabbed a pillow and tossed it at her face. She let out a startled laugh, swatting it away.

Garrick rolled back toward her, smirking again, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. "You’re impossible." She beamed. "And you love it." He did. Gods, he really did. His smirk softened as his fingers drifted lower, tracing over her arm in slow, lazy strokes. "Bet or not, you know I’d always choose you, right?" The teasing faded from her face, her lips parting slightly, like she hadn’t expected that.

Like she hadn’t expected him to say it. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "I know," she murmured. Then, quieter, like a confession—"Me too." A warm, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest. Garrick wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in, tucking her against him, pressing a slow kiss to the top of her head. "Good," he murmured against her hair. And as she sighed softly, curling into him, he realized—He’d never needed to win the bet.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Garrick knew he was fucked the moment he stepped into the common room. Not because of anything he’d done. No, he was fucked because Ridoc was already grinning at him like a feral godsdamned gremlin. And that never meant anything good. The first words out of Ridoc’s mouth? "So… who lost?" Garrick froze mid-step. A muscle in his jaw ticked. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Ridoc leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Oh, nothing. Just wondering which one of you caved first." Garrick forced his expression to stay neutral. Calm. Unbothered. Ridoc? Was not buying it. "Don’t look at me like that, Tavis," he said, grinning. "We all knew it was gonna happen. The only question was when." Garrick gritted his teeth. "We were just—"

"—completing an assignment for Xaden?" Ridoc cut in, smirking harder. "Yeah, yeah, sure, man. You definitely left that room with all your self-control intact." Before Garrick could strangle him, a new voice joined the conversation—"You lost, didn’t you?" Fucking Xaden. Garrick exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before slowly turning to face his smug-as-hell Wingleader.

Xaden leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Garrick narrowed his eyes. "You know, I’d almost believe you weren’t nosy as fuck if you weren’t standing there looking like you planned this." Xaden lifted a casual brow. "Didn’t need to plan it. The two of you were already fighting a losing battle." Garrick refused to dignify that with an answer.

Unfortunately, Ridoc was having the time of his life. "Gods, it must’ve been bad," Ridoc said, shaking his head. "How long did you hold out, Garrick? A week? Five days?" A beat of silence. Then—"Three days." The voice didn’t belong to Garrick. It belonged to her. Every single head in the room snapped toward the door. She stood there, arms crossed, looking thoroughly unbothered as she leaned against the frame. Garrick groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You’re not supposed to tell them that."

She shrugged, grinning. "What? It’s the truth." Ridoc howled. "Three days? Three?! Oh, that’s just—" He clutched his stomach, doubling over. "You didn’t even make it a full week! Garrick, my guy—" Garrick glared. "You wanna fucking live to see tomorrow?" Ridoc wiped fake tears from his eyes. "Not after hearing this. Gods, this is better than I could’ve imagined." Xaden was smirking too, though his amusement was more measured. "Three days. Impressive restraint, Tavis. Thought you’d break after two."

Garrick shot him an exasperated look. "Are you serious right now?" Xaden’s smirk only deepened. "What do you think?" Garrick considered violence. Seriously considered it. But then she came up beside him, running her fingers along his very tense forearm before saying, "To be fair, I would’ve won if I’d played fair." That got Xaden’s attention. He lifted a brow. "Played fair?" She smirked. "Let’s just say I… persuaded him." Garrick exhaled sharply, gritting his teeth as he felt the heat of her gaze. The knowing amusement.

And the worst part? Xaden understood immediately. Because his smirk vanished—replaced by an exasperated sigh. "You wore something, didn’t you?" She beamed. "Maybe." Xaden pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck’s sake." Ridoc, however, was absolutely thriving. "You cheated?! Oh, that’s evil. That’s—" He clutched his chest, grinning so hard it looked painful. "That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard."

Garrick turned toward her, leveling her with a look. "You cheated." She blinked innocently. "No rules against it." Garrick exhaled through his nose. She was impossible. And he loved it. Xaden shook his head, clearly done with this conversation. "You know what? I don’t even care. Just—" He waved a hand. "Try to keep it out of the common room, yeah?" Garrick snorted. "What do you take me for? Ridoc?"

"Hey, fuck you!" Ridoc shouted. Garrick smirked, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door. Xaden sighed behind them. "And for the love of the gods, get your damn patrol reports in on time." Garrick lifted a hand in mock salute. "Sure thing, boss." And as they stepped into the hall, leaving the laughter and teasing behind, she leaned in close, voice warm with amusement.

"Still think you won?" Garrick glanced down at her, taking in the wicked glint in her eyes, the unfairly beautiful curve of her lips. Then, with a slow, satisfied smirk, he murmured, "I hit the jackpot."

[landojpg04]

Tension and Takedowns (Part 2) - Garrick Tavis

⸻ image credits to scribe.jesinia ⸻

summary: Y/N, unable to sleep, trains in the gym late at night, trying to push thoughts of Garrick from her mind. Frustrated and overheated, she decides to use the men’s showers for their stronger water pressure, thinking no one will be there. However, Garrick walks in, and the tension between them becomes unbearable.

pairing: garrick tavis x fem!reader warnings: MDNI!, smut, swearing, unprotected p in v, oral (m) word count: 2k

For @domciak84 & @0717luv. Thank you for your requests. 💙

Part 1: Click here

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

The punching bag swung back toward her, and Y/N threw another punch, her knuckles connecting with a satisfying thud. Her breath came in short, controlled bursts, sweat glistening on her exposed skin under the dim glow of the lights overhead. The riders quadrant was silent at this hour, the only sound in the gym the impact of her fists and the occasional creak of the chains holding the bag in place. She couldn’t sleep and found herself back in the gym around midnight.

She needed to be better. Faster. Stronger. But even as she pushed herself harder, her thoughts kept drifting—kept lingering—on something far more distracting than her training. Garrick. The way he moved, the confidence in his stance, the sheer presence he commanded when he stepped into a room. It infuriated her how easily he got under her skin, how he could flash that damn smirk and destroy all the self-control she thought she had.

She threw another punch, harder this time, the force of it reverberating up her arm. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not by him. Not by the way his muscles shifted under his uniform, or how his dark eyes always seemed to find hers with knowing amusement. Not by the memory of his voice, low and teasing, sending an unwelcome shiver down her spine.

Another punch. Another. Harder. Faster. The ache in her knuckles was welcome, grounding. It forced her focus back to where it needed to be—on getting stronger. Enough for now. The thought of a cold shower was too tempting to resist. As she turned toward the exit, another memory flickered to the forefront of her mind—Rhi’s offhand comment about the stronger water pressure in the men’s showers.

Normally, she wouldn’t risk it. But at this hour? No one would be there. Y/N padded silently through the corridors, her damp skin cooling in the night air. When she reached the showers, she paused at the entrance, listening. Silence. Perfect. She slipped inside, the faint scent of soap and steel filling her senses. The air was cool, but the promise of hot water had her stripping off her clothes quickly. The first spray of water ran down her body, washing away the sweat and tension from her muscles. She let out a slow breath, tilting her head back as the warmth seeped into her skin.

Then, footsteps. Her heart stuttered. The door creaked open, and before she could react, a familiar presence filled the space. She turned her head just as Garrick stepped inside, his own training gear clinging to his body, darkened with sweat. Her breath caught in her throat. He hadn’t seen her yet. Y/N was frozen in place, water streaming down her body as she watched him tug his shirt over his head, muscles flexing effortlessly. His hands moved to his belt, and her brain finally kicked into gear.

Shit. She must have made a sound, because Garrick’s head snapped up, his sharp gaze locking onto her naked form through the steam. Time stopped. His eyes widened slightly, his jaw tightening as realization set in. A muscle in his cheek twitched, and for a moment, he just… looked. His gaze dragged over her, hot and lingering, before snapping back to her eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, voice lower than usual, roughened at the edges. She swallowed hard, unable to speak. Heat ran up her spine, different from the warmth of the water. It coiled in her stomach, twisting tighter when he took a slow step forward. "What are you doing in the men's showers, Y/N?" His voice was teasing, but there was a razor-sharp edge of intrigue beneath it.

She forced herself to swallow, forcing her mind to work past the shock of seeing him—shirtless, damp with sweat, and the sharp lines of his chest. "Stronger water pressure," she muttered, trying for nonchalance, but it came out breathless. His lips curled into something between amusement and interest. "Convenient excuse." She bristled, heat crawling up her neck for an entirely different reason now. "I didn't think anyone would be here."

Garrick's gaze flicked to the row of empty stalls and back to her. "And yet, here I am." The words hung between them, charged and heavy, stretching the moment unbearably taut. She was suddenly acutely aware of the water cascading down her bare skin, the droplets glistening in the dim light.

His eyes swept over her once more, the intensity making her pulse jump, the peaks of her nipples unwillingly perking. "You seem to be interested now, Y/N," he murmured, his voice a dangerous drawl. "Want to do something about it?" Her pulse pounded in her ears. The tension crackled like lightning in the enclosed space, the only barrier between them the swirling steam.

Her mind screamed at her to move, to grab a towel, to run—But her body stayed rooted in place. And Garrick took another step closer. His gaze darkened, his expression unreadable as he reached up, brushing a single damp strand of hair from her face. His fingers barely grazed her skin, but the contact sent a jolt through her. A challenge flickered in his eyes.

It wasn’t a question of whether she wanted this. They both knew the answer. Y/N’s breath came unevenly, her body humming with awareness. And then, before she could second-guess herself, she stepped closer to him.

Her hands slid up the sharp planes of his face, fingers brushing against the rough stubble before tangling in his damp hair. She pulled him down, her breath hitching just before their lips crashed together in a heated kiss. Garrick responded instantly, his hands finding her bare waist, yanking her body flush against his own. The sensation of his solid warmth against her ignited a fire low in her belly, and when his tongue swept against her lips, she parted them willingly. He took immediate control, deepening the kiss, his dominance evident in the way their tongues moved together—demanding, possessive, utterly intoxicating.

His grip tightened as his hands roamed lower, tracing every curve of her body before settling on her backside. He kneaded the soft skin, eliciting a soft whimper from her. The sound was swallowed between their lips, her fingers gripping his shoulders as if anchoring herself to him. When his mouth abandoned hers, he trailed a path of heated kisses along her jaw, down the curve of her neck. He found the sensitive spot beneath her ear, sucking and licking, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her knees were going weak as his mouth claimed her skin, marking her as his.

Her hands slid over his chiseled chest, fingertips tracing the ridges of his abdomen, savoring the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. When she reached the waistband of his training shorts, she hooked her fingers in the fabric, tugging them down along with his boxers in one swift motion. Garrick kicked them aside without hesitation. The water cascaded down their bodies, steam curling around them, adding to the desire thick in the air. She smirked up at him, biting her lip as she pressed a lingering kiss to his sternum, then lower—over his taut stomach, the defined V-line that led her exactly where she wanted to go.

Garrick watched her intently, his hazel eyes dark with lust, his jaw tight as he leaned a hand against the wet stone wall. When she dropped to her knees before him, her hands smoothing over his muscular thighs, a deep growl rumbled in his chest. She wrapped her fingers around his hard length, stroking him, reveling in the way his breath shuddered at her touch. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his head tipping back, the veins in his forearm prominent as he clenched his fist.

Her tongue flicked out, dragging a slow, teasing stripe from the base to the swollen tip before she finally wrapped her lips around him. His gaze snapped down to her, his hand immediately threading into her wet hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. She took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks, her tongue pressing against the sensitive underside. Garrick let out a strained groan, his fingers tightening their grip as he started guiding her movements, setting the pace he needed.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as he pushed deeper, her throat constricting around him. The sound she made—desperate, submissive—only spurred him on. "You look so fucking beautiful like this," he rasped, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he watched her. "Feels so damn good."

She moaned around him, the vibrations making his hips jerk forward. But before she could bring him over the edge, he pulled back with a strangled groan, gripping her arms and yanking her up to her feet. The sudden movement made her gasp, but then he was pressing her against the wall, his mouth crashing against hers, swallowing the needy whimper she let out.

His hand slid between her thighs, fingers finding her slick heat. "You're so fucking wet for me, Y/N," he muttered, groaning as he stroked her. His fingers worked her with practiced precision, circling her clit before slipping inside her with ease. "Gods, Garrick," she moaned, her head falling back, exposing the delicate column of her throat. Her lips were already swollen from their earlier kisses, her nails biting into his shoulders as he thrust his fingers into her, curling them just right. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. "I need you now." Garrick smirked against her jaw, but his pace didn’t relent. "What do you need, cadet?" His voice was low, teasing, as his fingers pushed deeper, making her moan louder.

"I want your cock inside me, sir," she whimpered, her pleading gaze locking onto his. That did it. He withdrew his fingers, his hands gripping her hips. "Jump." She obeyed without hesitation, wrapping her legs around his waist as he pinned her to the wall. She could feel him, hard and hot against her, teasing her entrance. "So eager," he chuckled darkly, dragging the thick head of his cock against her soaked folds. She writhed against him, desperate for more. And then—

With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her, stretching her completely, making her cry out in pleasure. His grip on her tightened as he stilled for a moment, savoring the way she felt around him, before he started to move. His thrusts were deep and deliberate at first, but when she moaned his name—needy, desperate—he lost the last of his restraint. His hips snapped into hers with increasing urgency, his grip on her thighs leaving marks, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.

"Fuck, Y/N. You feel so fucking good," he groaned, his forehead resting against hers. The water ran over them, mixing with sweat, their bodies locked together. One of Garrick’s hands slid between them, finding her clit again, his fingers circling in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation sent her over the edge, her walls clenching around him as she cried out his name, her nails digging into his back, sure to leave red marks.

Garrick gritted his teeth, thrusting harder, chasing his own release. He set her down for a moment, his hands gripping her waist as he turned her around. "Lean against the wall," he commanded, his voice rough. She did as she was told, pressing her palms against the stone, arching her back as he thrust into her from behind. The new angle had her gasping, the pleasure overwhelming as he pounded into her with reckless abandon. His fingers dug into her hips, his breathing ragged.

"F-fuck, I’m close," he gasped, his pace faltering as he slammed into her one last time, his release spilling into her with a guttural moan. Their bodies trembled against each other, chests heaving, the steam wrapping around them like a veil. He took a step back, his gaze raking over her as she turned around to face him, lips swollen, eyes hazy with satisfaction. Garrick exhaled heavily, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Gods, why the fuck didn’t we do this sooner?"

[landojpg04]

Drown in Me

Garrick (Fourth Wing) x Virgin!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: well I absolutely love Garrick. I just know he is such a softie with his partner. Just imagine that you too hate each other but something change during a mission or something and in a two simple word,, you fucked ". And you're virgin and he is so gentle and after he is so sweet.. Ohh I love this man

Warnings: Angst, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, consensual sex.

Word Count: 4417

Notes: DOES NOT CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR ONYX STORM.

I hope whoever requested this actually ages ago is still around. Sorry it took me so long. I'm obsessed with the beginning, it was so much fun to write 💙

_________________________________________

Chradh lands in the middle of the flight field with a roar that shakes the walls of Basgiath.

It’s directed at you, you know it is.

There’s no ducking away from the golden, narrowed gaze of the brown scorpiontail, nor his equally pissed rider. You swear Chradh is glaring at you, and he huffs a breath that reeks of sulfur.

Uisge, your green daggertail growls low in his throat. He stands tall behind you and equal parts of you want to preen and run, because standing between two dragons is never a good idea.

The Section Leader is not pleased, Uisge notes, and yeah, you already knew that.

Tell me something I don’t know, you retort, but lift your chin as you watch Chradh’s rider dismount with a grace you can only wish to emulate someday.

Your breath sticks in your throat at the sight of Garrick, despite the anger written clear on his face. He runs a hand through his now dry, wind-blown black hair, and you’d laugh at the way it sticks straight up if yours wasn’t still plastered to your skull after the unexpected dip you took during flight lessons today.

The Section Leader is not a strong swimmer. You wince. Yeah, that was found out during flight lessons today, too.

You’re frozen beneath that harsh look Garrick pins you with as soon as his boots hit the ground, his hazel eyes glowing with fire. He’s more than angry, he’s fucking fuming, and your boots squelch as you shift your weight to your other foot. You wince as the water from the soles of your boots floods your feet again. You hope you don’t look like a drowned rat.

More like a tiny, water-logged sheep, Uisge adds unhelpfully. Your shoulders fall in defeat. But a tiny sheep with sharp teeth. Head up, little one.

And well, a sheep with sharp teeth is better than a sheep with no teeth at all, so you raise your chin and patiently await your punishment.

Chradh pounds his strong wings, lifting from the ground, his annoyance with you and Uisge clearly over with. You’re sure the two male dragons are speaking through their mind connection, but you’re thankful that Garrick’s dragon is leaving the scene, even if everything that happens here will be seen through your section leader’s eyes.

It’s better not to have the audience for the reaming out you know you’re going to receive.

Much to your chagrin, Uisge follows.

Wait. Where are you going? We should be bearing punishment together! You can’t leave the sheep to face the wolf, you argue, because Garrick most definitely looks like a wolf right now.

I eat sheep and wolves for breakfast, Uisge replies. Is he insinuating that he’d like to eat you? You’re sure you wouldn’t taste good. And neither of them is secretly trying to fuck the other.

You gape, swinging your gaze to your dragon, but Uisge’s back is to you as he flies toward the vale, his daggertail sweeping in the wind.

Garrick approaches, the hilts of twin swords glow in the sun as it beams across the flight field. He could kill you in more ways than one with those weapons, and others, too, according to the neatly aligned patches that trail down the right arm of his flight jacket. Your jacket is bare, with the exception of the lousy wing and year patches you carefully sewed on. You’ve been awaiting receiving your signet patch, and maybe after what happened in training today, Garrick will get on that for you.

A distant roar has you realizing that you shouldn’t be lingering in the flight field lest the next wing prepare for training, so you spin on your heel and start for the courtyard.

Garrick catches up to you quickly, his strides longer than yours. His fingers are tucked into fists at his sides and there’s a low warning growl in his throat that tells you he’s not pleased with the way you walked away from him.

“What the fuck was that back there?” He questions, and you can hear him struggling to keep the anger from eking into his voice. Too late for that, you can hear his frustration clear as day.

Your boots squeak with each step you take and your damp leathers are beginning to chafe against your skin. Being in the blistering sun isn’t helping in the slightest, and you really wish your room was closer to the flight field right now.

And yeah, perhaps slipping off of Uisge’s back during flight maneuvers wasn’t your smartest decision, but you needed a bigger body of water than the bathtub to work on channeling your signet, and this was the only way you were going to get that done.

You didn’t expect Garrick to dive after you.

“I already told you; I slipped.”

“And I already told you,” Garrick scowls, and it twists the pink scar on his jaw in a way that makes you want to trace it. “I don’t believe you.”

You set your jaw as you make your way up the stone stairs, trying not to cringe when every step fills your boots with water. You release your tense shoulders and attempt to drain the liquid from your clothing with a flick of your hand, but all you can manage to do is propel the water from your leathers into your boots.

It’s infuriating.

“You haven’t fallen off Uisge once during flight training, and all of a sudden, a few weeks after your water wielding signet appears, you go tumbling off into a lake?” He asks it like you think he’s stupid. You think he’s far from stupid.

I don’t, Uisge says, and you force your walls up with all of your might.

He’s been watching you?

You mutter, “I didn’t think you’d follow me.”

“It looked like you really fell off! You were under the water for longer than you should’ve!” Garrick says, and you frown. You couldn’t have been under the surface of the water for more than a few seconds. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Let you drown?”

He was much closer to drowning than you were, little one, Uisge’s voice creeps through your mind and you have to force the smile threatening to split your lips away.

“Uisge knows what I’m capable of,” you argue, but it falls flat at the outright disbelief on Garrick’s face.

“He knows what you’re capable of?” He scoffs, then tacks on a dry, mocking laugh. “You can barely even power an ink pen, for Amari’s sake.”

That’s because you’ve been focusing all of your energy on training your signet. Much more important that being able to power a stupid ink pen, in your opinion.

You stay silent so long that you’re on your floor before you know it. With an angered flick of your wrist, your locks click and your door opens an inch. You want to growl in frustration, that door should’ve swung open and stuck in the wall with the anger you attempted to force into it.

You’ll get there, little one, Uisge’s voice trickles through your walls. There really is no getting rid of him.

Leave me alone, Uisge.

I do not take orders from you, he retorts, but you feel him draw away nonetheless.

“Look,” Garrick sighs, shutting the door behind you with lesser magic. It’s an easy move that you have yet to master. “I can’t lose one of my riders to their own stupidity. I won’t let you.”

As his words settle in, you’re all too aware that he’s standing in the middle of your room, only a few feet from you, and the door is closed.

“I wasn’t going to die, Garrick. I knew what I was doing,” you answer, shrugging out of your flight jacket. Although it is no longer water-laden, the temperature in the room has risen, and you need out. You hang it on the back of your chair, missing the way that Garrick’s hazel eyes drink in the sight of the rest of your flight uniform. Today, you chose something thin and lightweight so you aren’t weighed down by the water you knew you were going to practice in. “I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I do, though,” Garrick swallows, and you watch the way his throat bobs. Fuck, he can’t believe he’s doing this, but here the fuck he is, about to confess what’s been haunting him for weeks. You.

“Why?” You surprise him by saying. You cross your arms over your chest, not realizing that the move pushes your breasts higher. In your haze of annoyance, you fail to catch the way his eyes dip down for a peek. “I don’t see you jumping off dragons after any of the other riders!”

“That’s because I don’t have to worry about them,” he argues, taking a step closer. You’re a defiant little thing, so you move closer, too, which leaves your crossed forearms brushing his chest.

“You don’t have to worry about me!”

“I do!” He all but roars. You rock back on your heels in surprise but catch yourself.

Garrick runs a nervous hand through his hair. He’s no longer meeting your gaze, instead staring out the window over your shoulder. Something’s wrong. Something he clearly doesn’t want to tell you.

“Why?” You whisper.

“What?” He croaks; throat raw.

You glare up at him. You wish he would look at you. “Why do you have to worry about me?”

“I—” he trails off, helplessly, and you can see the way he’s talking himself out of admitting what’s on his mind. Maybe he’s even talking to Chradh.

“You what, Garrick?” You prod, an icy bite to your tone. “You think I’m weak?”

“No,” he answers vehemently. His gaze zeroes in on yours and he looks at you like he can’t believe you even said that.

“Then what is it?” You demand. “If it’s not because I’m the weakest link, then why are you worried about me?”

“Because,” Garrick roars, crowing in on you. You fall back but he keeps pushing forward, until your spine slams into the wall and there’s nowhere else for you to go.

Your arms fall as you brace yourself against the wall. Garrick’s chest heaves, and you swear you can feel the rapid beat of his heart from how close you stand. His front is plastered to yours, and there’s a flutter in your stomach that swirls at the fire in his eyes.

“Because I can’t get you out of my fucking head,” he admits, tone taking on a soft edge that converges right between your thighs. Your gaze flickers from one hazel eye to the other, confused at his sudden revelation. “Doesn’t matter where you are, what time of the day it is, you’re always on my mind.” He lifts a hand and gently brushes a strand of wet hair back that clings stubbornly to your cheek. The heat of his skin is searing, just like his words. “It’s like you’re a second Chradh,” he laughs drily, “Though you’re much prettier than him.”

You’re pretty sure that this isn’t real life. That your section leader didn’t just admit the very same thing you’ve been feeling for him since the first moment you laid eyes on him. It must be real, because you’re here, pinned to the wall by his big, strong body, and he’s looking at you like you might just reject him.

And you don’t know what the fuck to do. Sure, you’ve kissed people before, but you’ve never done anything more. You know for a fact that Garrick is well-practiced, with those broad shoulders and handsome face, his deep, dark hair and bright eyes that could surely turn anyone into a puddle.

The words stick in your throat. You don’t know what to say, where to start, and the longer you’re silent in front of him, the more apprehension creeps into his eyes. He shifts uneasily, and you wrack your mind for a response.

Ugh, just kiss him already, Uisge’s voice pops into your head.

Not now, Uisge, you bite, and then you heed your nosey dragon’s advice, and kiss Garrick.

You can tell he’s caught off guard by the way his body stills against yours. Still, you push onward, making it known that you’ve wanted him just as long as he’s wanted you by dragging your palms up his chest, reveling in every ripple of muscle you can feel through his flight jacket.

By the time your hands lock at the nape of his neck, Garrick’s hands are on your hips and his mouth moves against yours.

He lifts you into his arms, pinning you against the wall. Your legs wrap around his waist and he rolls his hips into yours as his tongue traces the seams of your lips. You gasp and Garrick slides his tongue into your mouth like he’s done it a million times. He brushes against yours tentatively, and when you don’t shy away from him, he advances.

One of his large hands slides up your waist, finding its way beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, exploring the smooth skin of your sides.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you,” Garrick mutters against the nape of your neck before sucking a harsh mark there. Your head thumps against the wall and your back arches into his body at the feeling of being claimed. It feels like threshing all over again, but this is better. Sorry Uisge.

Other than a rumble of protest down the bond, your stubborn daggertail doesn’t interrupt.

“How long?” you gasp when his lips find the spot that makes you melt into him. Your fingers scrabble against his flight jacket, nails scratching the thick fabric. Garrick growls in frustration, pulling back just far enough to drop his swords, unzip himself, and tear the fabric form his back. His black shirt follows, exposing those beautiful broad shoulders of his. You can’t help but trail your fingers across his pectorals and down his chest, admiring every inch of his body. Zihnal must be with you right now, because you’ve never felt luckier than you do right now.

“Since the day you chose Uisge,” he pants, helping you discard your own shirt. Your bra quickly follows, and Garrick’s hazel eyes latch onto your body like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. Your nipples pucker under his heady gaze and he loses his train of thought in favor of bending down to suck a pert bud into his mouth, reveling in the way that you gasp and wriggle as he circles his tongue around the hard nub.

Threshing. He’s liked you since threshing, when you chose Uisge. You think it’s an odd way to phrase what happened that day, but in Garrick’s eyes, that’s exactly what it was. You, stubborn thing that you are, staring down the green daggertail with that look in your eye, the same one you always give him. The same one that makes his cock ache.

“Garrick,” you gasp, arching into him. He’s not close enough, not with your trousers still acting as a barrier from where he ruts his thick cock into you. Your fingers claw at the waistband of his pants. “Off.”

Garrick peels you from the wall, trailing his mouth back up to meet yours in a kiss that steals your breath. He’s very good at this, gentle, too, as he lies you on your bed and he works your pants loose from your hips.

“Fuck me,” he breathes when you’re fully exposed. A flush of red crawls up your body from your toes to your cheeks under that scrutinizing gaze of his. “Look at you.”

The sudden urge to cover yourself flares to life. You’re nervous, even more so when he drops his trousers and his cock bobs, heavy and swollen. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, all rippling muscle and perfect cock, his eyes only for you.

“Garrick,” you whisper, unable to keep the fear from your tone. While his cock is pretty, it looks like it’s big enough to rip you in half. You scramble away from him as he places a knee on the bed, feeling guilty at the confusion on his face. “I’ve never…” you trail off, cheeks burning red.

His uncertainty melts into understanding. “That’s okay, we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“No,” you protest, almost too quickly. Your voice has taken on a desperate volume, and you lower it before continuing. “I want to have sex with you, I really do,” you swallow, eyes dipping to his cock. It’s glistening at the tip. “I just wanted you to know, in case…” you trail off. In case he doesn’t fuck virgins.

The furrow between his brows creeps back. “I want you,” he presses, holding your eyes so that you know exactly how much this moment means to him. “If you want me, I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You nod, almost dazed. Even though he’s told you this already, the words send a current of excitement zipping down your body where it converges between your thighs.

You want him too.

“Come here, then, Garrick.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Garrick kneels at the foot of the bed. He hooks his fingers around your ankles and carefully drags you closer to him, hazel eyes heady with lust. The effortless way that he tugs you to him has your pussy fluttering with need, a movement that he tracks.

When you near him, he slips from the bed, sliding to his knees. Carefully, Garrick tucks your legs over each of his shoulders, and you can feel each exhale he makes brushing your core. You bite your lip so you don’t release an impatient whine, but for Amari’s sake, you’ve never needed something so badly in your life.

“Is this okay?” he asks, tracing soothing circles into the meat of your thighs with his thumbs. He peppers kisses across the sensitive skin, grinning wildly when your hips buck beneath his mouth.

“Yes,” you moan, circling your hips as if to chase his lips. You want him on you now, licking you and teasing you and making you come on his tongue. “Please, Garrick, I—oh!”

You moan loud and wanton as the tip of his tongue flicks across your clit in an explorative swipe. Garrick locks that sound away in the back of his mind and dips down for another taste, scooping your slick up with his tongue. He’s going to enjoy the fuck out of drawing all these noises from you.

You’re fucking wet. The wettest pussy he’s ever had. You writhe against his tongue, panting and moaning at the different ways he uses his tongue. True to your stubborn nature, it isn’t long before your fingers are locked into his hair, guiding him while you chase your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he says as he switches from tongue fucking you to sucking harshly at your clit. He nips at the joint of your hip when you keen in frustration. You even go so far as to lift your head from the mattress to glare down at him. His eyes fucking glow in response and he holds your needy gaze. “Take what you need.”

There’s a smart retort on the tip of your tongue but it melts into a moan of pleasure when his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. Garrick adds his tongue into the mix, flicking it across your clit like he’s flipping through a never-ending deck of cards. When he adds a finger, your pleasure grows. When he adds a second, your orgasm crashes down around you in pure bliss. He doesn’t stop his attention on your clit until you’re a whining mess and trying to shove him off for a moment of reprieve.

“You did so good for me,” he murmurs across your skin, lips brushing your navel, your breasts as he climbs onto the bed. Your hands relax, melting down his shoulders, tracing the rebellion relic. “Do you need to stop, or can I put my cock in you?” He asks gently, with a firm kiss to your lips.

“Cock,” you echo, still lost in the throes of your orgasm. You’ll be damned if you miss that chance to have him wholly. “Need your cock.”

“That’s my girl,” Garrick whispers, and you preen.

He guides you into a better position, a pillow beneath your hips. His hand is warm on your calf as he directs you to hook your legs around his taut waist. You peer down at his cock, red and leaking and you’re more than ready for him. You’re a mess for him.

Your breath catches in your chest as he guides his tip in. His words are soothing, gentle as he runs his cock through your slick for easier entry. “That’s it, just like that. It might hurt at first, but I promise I’ll take care of you.” He says, and how the fuck can you not melt for him with those pretty words?

Each inch he presses into you punches the air from your lungs. Your body tightens as you stretch around his girth. His cock is hot, branding your insides.

Garrick senses your discomfort and pauses. The halt makes you whine. “How are you doing?”

“Need you closer,” you admit, screwing your eyes shut. You lift your hands and Garrick carefully lowers himself, trying not to lose his head and fuck all the way into you until his hips meet yours. He’s so gentle, so caring, and your heart swells because of it.

He presses his forehead to yours, thumbing a soft pattern against your cheek. “Relax,” he coaxes softly. Your eyes pop open, meeting those lovely hazel ones. “I can stop anytime you want.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you answer, slowly unlocking your limbs. You didn’t realize that you were digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders, and you carefully retract your claws. “I want you to keep going.”

It takes agonizing minutes until his pelvis rests against yours. Garrick’s reassuring praises helped keep you calm, even made you wetter for him with that wicked tongue of his. He distracted you with kisses and promises, lingering touches and admissions.

Gods, you feel so full. You didn’t think that you’d be able to take him all the way yet here you are with his cock fully sheathed inside of you. It feels right. He feels like home.

On your own time, you give a tentative roll of your hips. Garrick bites his lip to contain the moan that creeps up his throat, but you do nothing to hide yours. Yes, you get why sex is amazing, and you’re about to find out what sex with Garrick is like.

“If you keep squeezing my cock like that, I’m going to meet Malek sooner than intended,” Garrick pants, but fuck if he doesn’t love the way you’re squirming on his cock, drunk off of the sheer size of him.

“Move,” you gasp, fingers tightening on the back of his biceps. “I need you to move, Garrick.”

He heeds your direction like the good rider he is.

He starts out slow, letting you get used to his size. He kisses the furrow between your brow, rocking in and out until it disappears and you’re whimpering for him to move faster. You’re soaking his cock, which makes it all too easy to maneuver quicker, shifting his hips until you’re crying out and your nails are locked into his skin of his back again, raking down his spine.

He doesn’t even care if you leave red traces down his back. He’d rather be reminded of this moment than the scar that’s forever marred into his skin.

“Yes,” you hiss, arching into him. Garrick sucks a mark into the plush skin of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth. “Yes yes yes!” He’s ravaging you in every way, feels like he’s using his air wielding to steal the air from your lungs. You know that your lack of breath is simply just from being in his presence, his dashing good looks have always managed to take your breath away.

Garrick is attentive, tracing every part of your body he can reach. He draws a map in his mind, committing exactly what places and noises correspond. He would stay buried in you for fucking days if he could, but the harder you let him fuck into you has his gut coiling, that familiar heat buzzing down his spine.

He slides a hand between your bodies and finds your clit like he’s been fucking you for way longer than one night. You tug his head down in a desperate kiss, whimpering in pleasure into his mouth as his finger draws tight circles around your sensitive nub, chasing you toward that edge that still feels foreign yet so familiar at the same time.

“Come for me,” Garrick whispers, and you have no choice but to listen to your section leader.

You topple over the edge of oblivion. It’s similar to the feeling you experienced earlier, when you let yourself slip from Uisge’s back. A freefall, yet it’s so much more than that. It’s strong arms crashing down with you, a cock between your legs that’s hitting all the right spots. It’s soft words of encouragement from a man you’d never thought you’d get to see this much of. Hazel eyes that you’re falling into.

Garrick comes shortly after you, when he’s sure that you’ve experienced the best first orgasm of your life with him. There will be no one who will treat you like this, he’s vowed to ruin sex with any other man for you. But he’s ready to stick around if you are, as long as you don’t go jumping from your dragon with a death wish without letting him know first.

“That was…” you trail off in bliss. There’s a satisfied smile on your face, one that makes Garrick preen. Your eyes are shut and the lazy way you stroke his hair makes him fall harder, melt further into your body. “Thank you.”

“No,” he counters gently, brushing your hair from your face. It’s damp for an entirely different reason than the lake now, stuck to your skin with sweat. “Thank you,” he says, and leans down for one more intoxicating kiss.

[landojpg04]

"For Her, Always"

oneshot

Garrick Tavis x Riorson reader Request: Garrick x riorson little sister (she is a 2 year with Bohdi they are bff) they fell in love when they were little and now she is a rider but they hide what they feel to not upset Xaden, but the some guy flirts with her and we get MAD JELOUS Garrick and he hurts the guy on challenges, Xaden notices and they have a talk so then reader and Garrick can be together (Love confession Bridgerton style) wc: 6.8 ☆ no specific spoilers. Uses pronouns: she/her.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

If there was one thing about Garrick Travis then it was that he was attractive, always had been- even when he was younger. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel something for him. And maybe, just maybe, I would have said something by now if it wasn't for the fact that he's best friends with my brother.

Xaden.

He has enough on his mind. Adding to that is the last thing on my mind. Even if that means I'll have to keep my feelings to myself. Even if that means my heart will keep yearning for what I can't have. At least I can still stare at him. From a distance, in the practice room. It's better than nothing I suppose.

"You're staring." Bodhi muzes next to me. I shoot a small glare his way as I continue to wrap my hands for sparring. "Am not." I respond tense.

Second year is more difficult and stressfull than it seemed. RSC hanging over my head. Xaden has done his part in preparing me but that didn't make it less terrifying and seeing as it's unpredictable when leadership would come and get us, well, that just makes it worse.

Not that I have seen a lot of Xaden lately, he's been occupied with a certain Sorrengail.

That thought brings me back to where I am. Xaden is training the youngest Sorrengail on one of the mats in the corners, Garrick not far away from them as he practices with his sword.

And I'd hate to admit it but I am staring.

After I finish wrapping my hands I stand and pick up my daggers. They had always been my preferred weapon. Light but easy to use.

I go through my usual warm up routine. Swinging them around. It's all going smoothly until I hear a voice call out. "Looking good, beautiful."

I glance toward the voice, only to find Oren—the overconfident third-year with a cocky grin plastered on his face—walking toward me. He’s twirling his sword as if to show off, his steps relaxed.

“Your technique’s good, but I think you’re missing something,” he says, a smirk on his face.

I raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “And what would that be?” He shrugs, a look of mischief appears in his eyes. “A partner. You know, someone to make things more… interesting.” He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe someone who can keep up with you.”

I roll my eyes and focus back on my daggers, spinning one lazily between my fingers. “I’m perfectly fine. Thanks though.” I reply sarcastic, focusing back on my daggers. In the corner of my eye i catch Garrick's gaze.

But Oren doesn’t back down. “Come on, beautiful. You’ve got moves, but I bet I could teach you a thing or two. Maybe over a Meal?” His grin widens. I shake off the shiver that runs through my spine. An uncomfortable look on my face.

"Back off Oren." Bodhi's voice cuts through the tension. "She's already got someone to spar with." Bodhi's voice is on the cold side, almost as sharp as my brother Xaden's.

I give Bodhi a grateful smile as Oren retreats a step, his hands up in surrender. The smirk on his face is still present and I can tell he's not finished. For now maybe. But not forever.

♤

I stand by the surrounding crowd. All our eyes are on the mat, at the fight that is happening. It's a good match-- the matches before this one were a little meh but this one is actually good, we might be onto something.

The match ends after the second year taps out. From the corner of my eye I can see Garrick talking to Emmeterio. Why would he talk to him?

"Next match. Seifert and Travis." Emmeterio announces and my heart jumpes in my throat. That can't be a coincidence can it? Garrick against Oren not even a day after the small incident in the sparring room.

I can feel Xaden's eyes on me but I don't turn to face him. My eyes are solely on Garrick as he takes his place on the mat. His face holds the sole emotion of anger.

Oren charges first but Garrick side steps him, around his attack. Oren tries again but Garrick takes a hold of his arm, twisting it and Oren let's out a groan.

I can see Garrick say something to Oren but it's too quiet for me to hear. Garrick starts twisting his arm at an unnatural angle. He puts his leg between Oren's and he falls backwards on the mat. I knew Garrick was a good fighter but he's really good.

Garrick easily straddles Oren, a dagger at his throat and I wouldn't wish the look upon Garricks face to anyone. Not even my worst enemy.

He moves his dagger slightly, enough to draw blood but not enough to seriously injure him. I hold my breath at the sight. There is no way Garrick would actually kill him right?

He presses the blad harder against Oren's neck. I hear the familiar tap against the mat, he taps out. I let out the breath I'd been holding, Garrick slowly gets off him. He takes a step backwards, his dagger still in his hand.

I also take a step back, most people in this room night not know what this means but some do. I can feel bodhi's and Xaden's eyes in my back, burning holes.

I can see Xaden follow Garrick out of the sparring room and I don't hesitate to follow. I follow them quietly until they stop in a dark alley.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Xaden snaps at Garrick. His voice full of authority. I stay hidden behind the wall.

"He was flirting with her last night." I hear Garrick argue, frustration laced in his tone. "I'm aware of that. I saw it to but she can defend herself." Xaden voice grows bored.

"You're telling me you don't care that an asshole was flirting with your sister?" The frustration in his voice grows harsher.

“Of course I care,” Xaden snaps. “But I trust her to handle it. You, however, handled it as though you were issuing a challenge. That’s not protecting her—it’s claiming her.”

Garrick falls silent for a moment, his heavy breathing the only sound in the alley. “Maybe I am,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight I’ve never heard before. My breath catches in my throat.

“You don’t get to do that unless you’re willing to back it up,” Xaden warns, his tone razor-sharp. “You don’t get to make her your responsibility unless she’s choosing you. So tell me, Garrick, what exactly are your intentions?”

There’s a long pause before Garrick speaks, but when he does, his voice is steady. “My intentions are to love her. To protect her. To be the one she can turn to for the rest of her life. If that’s claiming her, so be it. I’ve loved her for longer than I care to admit, and I’m done hiding it.”

I press my hand to my mouth, trying to contain the gasp that threatens to escape. Did he just say…?

“And what about her?” Xaden challenges. “Have you even thought about what she wants? Or is this just about you?”

“It’s about her,” Garrick snaps back. “It’s always been about her.” “Then maybe you should say something to her instead of throwing daggers at every man who looks her way,” Xaden retorts. “Because this whole display? It’s not going to win her over. Talk to her. And for both your sakes, stop making me the middleman.”

I hear footsteps retreating, the sound of Xaden walking away. My heart pounds as I realize I’m now alone with Garrick, hidden just around the corner.

I take a shaky breath, stepping out of the shadows. “You could’ve just asked me,” I say softly.

Garrick whirls around, his eyes wide with shock. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” I admit, stepping closer. “Is it true? What you said?”

He looks away, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter—” “It does matter,” I cut him off, my voice trembling. “Because I’ve spent so long trying to convince myself that what I feel for you is one-sided. That you could never see me as anything more than Xaden’s little sister. And now you’re telling me that you… that you’ve felt the same way?”

His gaze snaps to mine, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief. “You… you feel the same?”

I nod, my chest tightening as the words spill out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Garrick. But I thought you’d never… I thought it wasn’t possible.”

He takes a step toward me, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. “You have no idea how hard it’s been, keeping my distance. Watching you with Oren last night, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“And today?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “On the mat?” “I wanted him to know,” he admits, his thumb brushing against my skin. “That you’re not just some girl to flirt with. That you’re… everything to me.”

I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes as I lean into his touch. “Then stop keeping your distance,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s both fierce and tender, years of longing and unspoken words pouring into that one moment. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, and for the first time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re my everything,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

I smile, my heart lighter than it’s ever been. “You’ve already done enough,” I whisper. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you try.”

♤

[landojpg04]

Priority - Garrick Tavis

Anonymous Request: reader would get frustrated with garrick loyalty to xaden (hence protecting violet) and it gets all angsty because hey a girl gets insecure and she’s like “when push come to shove and its my life vs xaden, hell even violet, i don’t know if its my life you’d be saving”, but garrick redeems himself!

Masterlist | Support Me

I storm past Garrick, continuing down the hallway in the sea of riders heading to formation. I was sick of being second to Xaden and essentially Violet. So many times he had brushed me aside or left me behind because of them. Just once I wanted to feel like a priority to him. Something I hadn’t felt since Violet had bonded Tairn, putting Xaden on high alert. Which by extension, meant Garrick. I hear him calling out behind me, but I don’t turn to acknowledge him. We were under attack. And the first thing he had done is rush out of the room to get Xaden and Violet. Leaving me alone in the room to get ready.

I make it to the courtyard before Garrick makes it to me, his hand grabbing my arm to turn me around to face him. “I was calling out to you.” He tells me with a pointed stare.

I shrug my arm out of his grasp, taking a step back to get some distance from him. “I know, I could hear you.” I tell him sternly as I cross my arms over my chest.

”What’s gotten into you?” He says with a scoff.

”What’s gotten into me? Oh I don’t know, maybe I’ve finally had it with being second best to Xaden and Violet the last few months. Maybe I’ve finally had it with being so low down on your priority list that I feel like I barely exist to you any more.”

”That’s not true.” His gaze softening at my words.

”Is it? Because I’m starting to feel like when push comes to shove and it was my life vs Xaden’s, hell even Violet’s, I don’t even know if it’s my life you’d choose anymore.” I spit out at him.

Garrick just stares at me in shock, clearly not expecting me to say something like that. We kept our relationship behind closed doors, but never once had I felt like I wasn’t cared for or loved by him. But since October it had just gotten worse and worse.

”If she dies, Xaden di-”

”I am well the fuck aware what happens if she dies. We all are Garrick. We’re all looking out for them. None of us want to loose Xaden.” I nearly yell at him, causing him to flinch. “But you might have just lost me in the process.”

I turn and head into formation, not wanting to hear what else he has to say. I was getting to the point of anger where I was going to say something I’d regret or go too far. Though I might have just gone too far. I knew how close Xaden and Garrick were. Always have. But this was the first time since we’d gotten together that I had felt like this. And now I couldn’t help but wonder if I had just put the nail in the coffin of our relationship.

We were overwhelmed. Buildings were collapsing, people screaming as they tried to flee to safety. I was honestly starting to think we weren’t going to make it. We’d already lost two to the onslaught. Loud screams to my right startle me, but I have no time to react as a wall of people slam into me, knocking me to the ground.

My ears ring from the contact, amplified by the shoes that kick my head on their way past. All of them too scared to realise they’ve knocked me to the ground. I can barely register my dragon yelling in my head, unable to make out the words they throw down the bond as I try to get back to my feet. I manage to get onto my hands and knees before another shoe meets my head. My dragon continues to yell at me down the bond. I can feel their fear, panic and worry. But I still can’t make out the words they throw at me.

I push myself up again, this time being successful due to the crowd all dissipating. All but one. In the distance down the end of the street, I can just make out a blurry figure clad in robes billowing in the wind. My vision spins as I try to focus on them, my head throbbing from the effort. Shit. I’m concussed. But something tells me I need to move. Need to get to my feet and get out. But I can’t.

I try to focus on the figure again. A figure that’s much brighter in colour to their surroundings. As if the colour has drained from everything around them. I watch as the muted colours get closer and closer to me by the second. I try to stand, but my legs crumble, sending me back to the ground. I need to move, or I’m dead. I try again, grasping onto a nearby wall to try pull myself up. But my hand slips, sending me back to the ground as I cry out in pain. I roll to my side, this time the figure much clearer now my vision isn’t blurry. Watching as the Venin channels from the ground. Watching as it gets closer and closer. I have probably thirty seconds till I meet my end. Thirty seconds left and my last words to him were becoming true in more ways than one. And now I have no way to tell him I’m sorry before I’m gone. I’ll never get to take back those words.

I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to watch when my end will come. But they fly open when I’m pulled from the ground. I look up and see Garrick pulling me into his arms before turning and running us down the street towards Chradh who angles his leg for Garrick. Garrick doesn’t miss a beat as he runs up the makeshift ramp, holding me in his lap as he takes his seat and Chradh launches into the air.

The wind howls around us as Chradh beats his wings, propelling us higher above the chaos below as his magic washes over Garrick and I, securing us in place. I clutch onto Garrick’s flight jacket barely registering the warmth of his body through my haze of pain and fear. My head throbs with each pulse of my heart, and my vision swims, but I can’t tear my eyes away from his face. His jaw is clenched tight, his brows furrowed in concentration as he manoeuvres us out of danger.

"Garrick," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the rush of wind.

His eyes snap down to mine, and for a moment, the icy walls of detachment he’s built around himself crumble. There’s something raw in his expression. Fear, anger, relief, and something deeper that I can’t quite name.

"I thought..." My voice cracks, and I swallow hard. "I thought you didn’t care anymore."

He lets out a harsh, humourless laugh, his grip tightening around me. "Don’t care? Is that what you think? That you’re second to Xaden and Violet?" His voice breaks on Violet’s name, and his gaze darkens. "They’re my responsibility. My duty. But you—" He exhales sharply, his eyes glinting with something that looks almost like desperation. "You’re my everything. And if you ever doubt that again, I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" I manage to croak, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite the pain.

"I’ll never forgive myself," he finishes, his voice dropping to a whisper. He presses his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my skin. "You think I could survive losing you? You think I’d want to?"

I blink up at him, my heart twisting at the raw vulnerability in his voice. I’ve never seen him like this, so unguarded, so human. For all his stoicism and sharp edges, Garrick is breaking right in front of me, and it’s because of me.

"I’m sorry," I murmur, reaching up to brush my fingers against his jaw. "I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it."

He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch as if it’s the only thing grounding him. "Just don’t scare me like that again," he says softly. "Please."

Chradh lets out a low growl, drawing our attention back to the chaos below. Garrick straightens, his grip on me tightening as his eyes scan the battlefield. "We’re not out of this yet," he says grimly.

I nod, forcing myself to sit up despite the pounding in my head. "I’m with you," I say, my voice steadier now.

Garrick glances down at me, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. "Always," he says.

[landojpg04]

Insomnia - Garrick Tavis

Anonymous Request: Garrick x reader where she struggles with sleep/has insomnia and she goes to Garrick for comfort or he finds out somehow and comforts her and she can only fall asleep with him there 💕 just a very fluffy fic

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Masterlist | Support Me

“You look like shit.” Imogen says as I sit down in front of her in the dining hall.

”And you wonder why you’re single.” Bodhi mutters before Imogen smacks him across the head. “Hey!”

”She’s not wrong.” I point out as I shove my fork into a roast potato. “Sleeps been…. difficult lately.”

Bodhi turns to me, concern written all over his face as he looks me over. “You can so no, you know that right?”

I know what he’s getting at. But Xaden sending us on supply runs has got nothing to do with it. I wish that was the issue. But I’ve struggled with sleep every since the day our parents got burned. And every now and then I hit a rough patch of a few weeks were I barely get an hours sleep at night. And right now was one of those patches.

”I’m aware. But it’s got nothing to do with that.” I tell him with a tight lipped smile. “I’ve been struggling with sleep for quite some time now.”

He nods, clearly getting the hint behind my words. And if I can’t sleep, I may as well be on supply runs and make use of not being able to sleep.

”I can take over for you tonight. You look like you’re going to pass out in your chair.” Imogen offers

I shake my head. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. It’s only a short one.”

She purses her lips but nods at me. She knew better than to push it. Both of us were as stubborn as each other. Bodhi mutters something about leadership duties and gets up from the table, leaving Imogen and I to eat alone until Quinn joins us. I quickly finish my dinner, getting up from the table before Quinn can notice how tired I look. I feel Imogen’s eyes follow me as I get up from the table and make my way out of the dining hall and towards the flight field. As I make my way into the courtyard, skirting my way around the edges, shadows consume me, hiding me from any prying eyes. I look around, but don’t see Xaden anywhere. But I knew he had eyes on me if he was covering me. Luckily the courtyard is empty with everyone eating dinner. But it was better to be safe than sorry. As I walk up the final steps into the field, Xaden is waiting for me. I’d expected him to be down in the courtyard. It was scary how powerful he was with those shadows.

”Everything ready to go?” I ask him as I walk up to him.

He nods over to my dragon, two loaded packs ready to go next to her. Big enough for her to grab onto, but small enough no one would notice them once she held them in her claws.

”All ready to go. You sure you’re up to this?” He asks me, his onyx eyes bearing into me.

I shake my head and laugh. “Let me guess, Bodhi came to you worried about me.”

He nods. “And with good reason. You look like you’re about to keel over. I can get someone else to do this.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. Like I told Bodhi I’ve struggled with sleep for years now. Sometimes I hit rough patches where I barely get any. But I’ll be fine. Trust me.”

He narrows his eyes at me but eventually nods. “Fine, but I want you to report to me when you get back.”

”You got it Wingleader.” I say with a mock salute before turning and walking over to my dragon.

I groan as we land back in the flight field. The shockwave making everything hurt. Exhaustion was royally kicking my ass, but I could tell sleep still evaded me and I would probably get none once I got back to my room. I slide down my dragons leg, staggering as my feet hit the ground. I stumble for a few steps, putting my hands out to stop the fall I know is coming before something stops me. Not something. Someone. Their hands grip my upper arms tightly from behind, pulling me up right.

”You are far from ok.” A familiar gruff voice growls from behind me.

My eyes widen. Shit. Their hands loosen as I turn to face a very angry Garrick.

”I’m fine.” I tell him sternly, though I know it does little to convince him after what he just saw.

”You nearly falling off your dragon is not fine. When was the last time you slept?” He demands as he takes in the shadows under my eyes.

”I got an hour last night.” I say with shrug before quickly stifling a yawn.

He narrows his hazel eyes at me. “When was the last time you got proper sleep?”

”You know I haven’t slept properly in years.” I shoot back.

Garrick was probably the only one that knew the extent of my sleeping problem. Kind of hard to hide something like that when we we’re fostered together. Countless nights he’d found me awake in my room reading or drawing. Had seen me go through my first rough patch where I’d practically passed out on him during a training session.

”Well aware. So why didn’t you come to me?” He asks with a cocked eyebrow.

”Because we have far bigger issues than sleeping issues we can’t fix. I’ll be fine.” I tell him sternly, before swaying slightly.

Garrick’s hands fly out and catch me before I stumble again. He grumbles something I can’t make out before dipping down and scooping me into his arms. I go to protest, but as he tightens his hold on me, I know I have no chance in fighting this. And I couldn’t deny, the familiar gesture was exactly what I needed. I rest my head on his shoulder as he walks us out of the flight field. It doesn’t take long for the rocking movement and his presence to make my heavy eyes flutter close, lulling me into a deep sleep.

I squint against the bright light, hand flying up to shield me from the sun coming through the open drapes. I groan, burying my head into what should be my pillow, but isn’t. No this solid, harder than a pillow but not uncomfortable. A steady beat thrumming against my ear. The familiar scent of leather, cinnamon and musk instantly having my body relax.

”About time you woke up.” Garrick’s familiar teasing tone meeting my ears.

I smack him lightly on the chest, causing him to laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest into me. “If you keep that up I’m never coming to you if this happens again.”

Garrick’s chest rumbles with laughter again. “You say that every time sweetheart.” He tells me before kissing the top of my head lightly.

”One day I won’t come back.” I warn him teasingly as I turn my head to look up at him.

Cocky bastard just smiles down at me knowingly. “I’ll believe it when it happens. Now get some more rest.” He tells me before shutting his own eyes and leaning his head back against the wall.

“Maybe if someone hadn’t left my drapes open I could.” I retort.

Garrick doesn’t even open his eyes as he raises his hand and waves it, the drapes sliding close and plunging the room into darkness. “Problem solved. Now go to sleep.”

[landojpg04]

[landojpg04]

The Hunter and the Deer

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

CW: Age gap (Reader is 20/Gator is 27)

Flufftober 2024 Think About Me PT2

Gator announces your relationship at your parents Halloween party. 

Your dress hung against your knees as you fretted with your nails again, trying to do your best to keep from picking at the polish that decorated them. You were pacing back and forth in your room, trying to ignore the loud screaming that was coming downstairs from your younger brothers. Their antics made you scoff, but your parents could worry about them this time. You weren’t on babysitter duty.

But you might get stuck watching them for the rest of your life depending on how the rest of the night went. Your parents might decide to never let you out of the house again. Or to move you far away. The terrible scenarios were endless.

You just knew you couldn’t be away from Gator any longer. And you were fairly certain he felt the same. Enough that he agreed it was time to come clean to your parents. You appreciated that at least. 

Your parents always threw a Halloween party. Every year. And many people came to it, even the Tillman’s despite Roy’s odd views about the holiday. They still came to show support. 

You finished getting your makeup perfect, ensuring that you had a round dot at the tip of your nose before you made your way down the stairs. You were dressed like a deer, thinking that it would be fun to tease Gator with.

You searched the room, giving a shy wave to your parents' friends as you searched through the crowd of faces. You were only looking for one person. 

Gator stood with his hands in his pockets, wearing his simple hunting attire. All camo, but he still made it look good. Your eyes danced over his features, admiring the usual way his hair was slicked back.

“Hi.” You sent him a soft wave, feeling bashful as ever. He somehow still had that effect on you. Maybe it was because you were so crazy about him. Or that you were finally going to make your relationship official. 

“You look cute.” He stated, dark eyes slowly scanning your body before he turned his eyes back towards yours. Everything in your body felt hot. “Thanks,” You grinned, heart hammering in your chest at his sweet compliment, “You look really handsome.” You told him seriously, walking around with him until you found someplace quiet. Hidden. Just for the two of you. Or perhaps everyone was too busy with their own conversations that they wouldn’t notice. 

“Shucks,” He teased, glancing around briefly before he slid his hand against yours, “What are you wearing underneath?” He asked smugly, making your body burn all over again. Sometimes you couldn’t believe how forward he was. 

“Gator,” You squeaked out, insides burning as you turned your gaze away from him to ensure that no one had heard, “My parents are here.” You reminded him, feeling like you needed to make a good first impression. You’d never had a boyfriend before, your father had made sure of that. 

“That hasn’t stopped you from sneaking me in before.” He replied, a little cocky as he nudged his fingers against your hand. You bit your bottom lip. 

“I missed you.” You whispered gently, drinking in the colors in his eyes. You still didn’t know how lucky you were to get someone like him to like you. To want to be with you. 

“Awe,” He teased as he flicked his eyes down towards your lips, “But you just saw me.” He added as he leaned against the wall. You thought about the last time you saw him, your insides melting again. 

“It’s not enough.” You were adamant in your answer, giving him a firm nod as your brothers raced through the room. You pulled yourself closer to the wall, getting out of their way so you didn’t get toppled over. 

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” Gator’s statement took you by surprise, making you snap your head back towards him again. He was shifting with his belt, his eyes glued towards the floor. 

“Why not?” You asked nervously, “I think my parents like you enough.” You said seriously. They had trusted him enough to have him come over when they were gone. It meant something. 

“Helpful.” He brought his vape up to his lips, not caring about your parents' rules as he took a deep puff from it. You hoped it was enough to relax him, you were tired of sneaking around. 

“It’ll be like ripping a bandaid off.” You promised him, repeating what he had said weeks prior. You were sure he had calculated his plan, figuring that it would be easier to do it when there was a crowd of people around. Plenty of witnesses. 

“Sure,” He chuckled as he rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip, “We better get this over with.” He took one last inhale from his vape, holding it in his lungs for a few seconds before he exhaled it roughly. 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You told him seriously, afraid that you were pressuring him. He laughed as he turned towards you. 

“I do,” He reassured you, giving your hip a little tap as he followed you through the house, “Where is he?” He asked you, glancing around as you did your best to keep in step with his fast strides. 

“He’s not that bad.” You tried to reassure him. Your dad could be a lot, but you were sure it came from a caring place. Even if it seemed to be buried deep at times. 

“I’ve been hunting with him,” He muttered, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt, “He doesn’t miss.” He relayed the bad news to you, making you grateful that the guns were at least locked up. That would give him enough time to run. 

You guided him over towards where your parents were working on mixing up another bowl of punch while also trying to keep your youngest brother from sticking his hand in the ice cream container. 

“Mom, dad,” You introduced, smiling nervously, “Hi.” You waved at them, trying to remain as cheerful as possible. Your father was dressed normally, but your mother resembled a witch as she did every year. 

“Hi.” Your dad said as he spared a glance towards Gator, looking less than impressed. You gulped. 

“Oh,” Your mom smiled back, “You’re matching.” She pointed out, making your heart lurch in your chest. Maybe you should’ve waited to match. 

“Thank you for inviting me,” Gator gulped, “Your home is as lovely as ever.” He said as he glanced around, moving his hand onto his waist. 

“Good to see you, Gator.” Your father said dryly, eyes narrowing as he observed your mother’s claim. You felt nervous suddenly. 

“You too sir,” He answered back, looking a lot more calm than a few minutes earlier. Though you could still see the slight nerves in his eyes as he rubbed his palms across his pants, “I was wondering if I could ask you something?” 

“What is it?” He asked, sighing deeply like he couldn’t be bothered to hear it. You knew that wasn’t the truth, it was just your dad being difficult. Gator glanced towards you, parting his lips as he thought over his answer. 

“I think your daughter is incredible-,”

“She’s very intelligent,” Your father agreed, “She can spot a dumb boy from miles away.” He grumbled, giving you a stern look. 

“Daddy.” You huffed, eyes wide as you felt the humiliation creeping in. You weren’t a little girl anymore. You were allowed to have boyfriends. Especially one like Gator.

“Right,” Gator nodded along quickly, “She’s very smart. And kind and pretty. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to take her out on a date.” He said at last, softly and slowly. He glanced towards you, making your whole face beam from his words. 

“You?” Your dad asked, his eyes wide as a laugh nearly fell from his tongue. You bit back your own whine, sending your mom a desperate look. 

“Yes, sir.” Gator stuck his hands in his pockets, fiddling with them as he managed to hold down your father’s harsh glare. 

“You know you were roped into that dumb boy scenario, right?”

“Oh knock it off,” Your mom huffed as she touched your father’s side, “You know our little girl as always had a crush on Gator.” She added, making you gape in horror. She wasn’t supposed to go that far with it. 

“Mom!” You shouted, hoping that Gator hadn’t heard that part. He’d never let you live it down. 

“We’d be honored to have a gentleman ask her out.” Your mother added a second later, nodding her head in agreement. Gator smiled at her, but still looked like he wanted reassurance from your father. 

“I won’t hurt her,” He promised, still looking nervous, “She’s special to me.” He turned towards you again, making your heart flip in different directions. His eyes were warm, soft. Full of adoration and words that he didn’t always tell you. But you knew how he felt. That was what mattered. 

“She better be,” Your dad mumbled, “Or it’ll be your head I hang up next.” He pointed towards the animals on the wall, nearly making you shriek in horror all over again. You didn’t understand why he had to be so difficult. Gator was nice. 

“Don’t listen to him,” You said quickly, “He just thinks he’s funny.” You sent your parents a little wave, knowing that it went better than it would’ve. You quickly dragged him away, wanting to create some distance between everyone. 

“You had a crush on me?” He asked you once you were out of distance from your parents, making you want to hide your face in shame. You couldn’t believe him. You were so young then. 

“I was in middle school.” You defended yourself, leaving out the part where you had crushed on him in high school too. And recently. It wasn’t really your fault. 

“Yeah?” He asked, grinning from ear to ear. He looked excited, a little too smug. You bit back our own grin. 

“Shut up.” 

[landojpg04]

can i get a short lil sumthin sumthin about remus and his girlfriend being academic weapons, sirius and james thinks they're boring bc they've been doing their work in the library for hours but they're actually cockwarming and seeing who'll crack first heheheh 👀👀👀

"Focus, Lupin"

Pairing: Remus Lupin x girlfriend!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: well, smut of course! Exhibitionism, possessive Remus, yall are both freaks tbh, cucking? cock warming, riding

A/N: The other marauders have a big fat stinking crush on you but that's neither here nor there until the end of the fic. Sighhh, I go through my marauders mood swings. Your house isn't clear so feel free to pick any of them.

Tags: @yvy1s @innercreationflower

Remus hooks his chin over your shoulder, looking for all the world as if he's just getting into a better position to read his chicken scratch notes, pressing your back even further against his chest. You inhale, clenching around him at the sudden movement. You scoff at his near-inaudible laughter, elbowing him as he chuckles into your neck.

"Quit it." You grumble, quil moving at the speed of light as you furiously write.

"Quit what?" He moves the textbook you're sharing closer, the big hand he places on the page mirrors the one that's settled on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide like he's stretching them before he drums them along the parchment. You wish you hadn't left your robes in your dorm, at least then you'd have another layer between your skin and Remus's teasing touch.

"You're cheating." You hiss, but that's the most you do to reprimand him. It's your fault you're in this mess anyhow.

Both of you are always the highest scorers in your class. And with the past few exams, you've been getting the same score or beating each other by a point or two. It's bloody frustrating.

You continuously tried to one-up each other in academics, long after you two started dating. He's your rival first, boyfriend second.

At this very moment, before you both sit two half-done papers for your N.E.W.T-level Alchemy class that isn't due for another week, but you get extra house points if you're the first to turn it in.

Which you plan to be, even if half the blood in your brain has traveled down to where you're swollen and soaked. You both sit completely clothed, other than where you're hitched on Remus's cock, knickers pulled to the side.

Of course, the library is empty. It's nine in the afternoon on a Friday. And it was your idea to see whose dedication would overpower their carnal desires. 

He laughed you off at first. A soft, dismissive chuckle rumbling from his chest, muffled by the book he barely looked up from. Typical, shaking his head as if you'd said something absurd and that was the beginning and end of it. But you knew him well enough by now to know which buttons to push—and exactly how hard. 

"Yeah, right," you sighed, letting your tone drop into exaggerated defeat as you flopped back against his headboard. "Wouldn't be much of a competition anyway."

Remus paused mid-turn of the page. His brows furrowed, eyes flicking to you in sharp suspicion, but you didn't look at him. Not yet. Instead, you stretched out along his bed like a cat, carefully keeping your expression blank as you toyed with the edge of the blanket.

"...And what's that supposed to mean?" His voice was sharp, clipped, but you could hear the curiosity, the irritation. The competitive edge. Exactly what you were counting on.

"Hm? Oh, nothing." You waved a hand vaguely in his direction, settling yourself comfortably against his pillows. You stretched a little more, arching your back like a cat before flopping onto your side. You kept your expression perfectly neutral, but you knew he could feel the smirk simmering beneath the surface. "It's just...well, we both know you'd give in long before me. So there's truthfully no point in even entertaining the idea." You shrugged, all nonchalance, even as you felt your chest flutter at the way his brows drew together. "I'm just agreeing with you, Rem."

His scoff was immediate, sharp and incredulous. You'd earned yourself a full look now, his book lowering just enough to reveal the disbelief etched across his face. “That’s not what I said.”

You shrugged as if it was no concern to you, deliberately looking away like the conversation was already over, knowing full well he wouldn’t let it rest. You flipped onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands to stare at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Didn’t need to." 

You bit your lip to keep from smiling as his book lowered—not abruptly, but slowly, deliberately. One inch, then two—his sharp amber eyes flicking to yours. The forefinger he slipped between the pages made it look like he might still pretend to be reading, but you knew better.

The scar closest to his eye twitched, irritation flickering faintly across his face. Merlin, you always loved how expressive that scar was when he was annoyed. One of his fingers tapped against the book spine resting on his chest, the motion twitchy.

He exhaled through his nose—sharp, like he was trying to keep it together—and finally set the book aside. His movements were precise, controlled, but there’s no hiding the faint flush creeping over his neck or the way the corner of his mouth twitched.

You knew you got him. He tried, and failed, to mask his irritation and it was almost unfair how easy he was to rile up. Almost

He let a long silence settle, the weight of his gaze pressing into you. Finally: “…You taking the piss?” 

You let the grin spread across your face this time, sitting up slightly so your chin props on your hands. "M'as serious as the plague, Lupin."

The staring match that followed was something out of a duel, the cogs in his mind clearly spinning. The tension stretched taut between you, thick as smoke, neither of you daring to blink.

His book stayed in his hand for a moment longer, though you saw the exact second he gave up pretending to read. Then, to your satisfaction, he closed his book with an audible thud and set it aside. He shifted, sitting up and leaning forward. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing with the movement, and your stomach twisted—just a smidge.

"Go get your books," he said, his voice low and challenging, sending electricity up your spine. "And meet me in the library."

“Oooh, someone's touchy," you said, walking your fingers up his thigh, muscles tensing under your touch. “Formal battlegrounds now, is it? Bold move, Rem. I thought you liked keeping your humiliations private. But if losing in public gets your rocks off, who am I to deny you?"

His lips twitched—an almost-smile that was gone too fast to catch properly. “I’ll be the one handing out the humiliation, thanks.” 

"Stakes?" you asked, cocking your head.

"Loser buys the winner chocolate frogs for a week," he said, already swinging his legs off the bed. Then, after a pause, he glanced over his shoulder, smirking faintly. "Or…whatever else I decide." 

You pushed yourself up with a wicked grin that matched his, already moving toward the door. “Alright, but don’t be mad when you’re the one giving in first. I know you can’t resist me for long.” 

Behind you, you heard him huff a laugh, though it sounded like he was trying to hide it. “Get your books, trouble. Let’s see how well you actually handle restraint.” 

You were confident by the end of this week you'd overdose on chocolate frogs. Remus might be brilliant and disciplined, but he’s not immune to distraction. Especially distraction in the form of his wickedly beautiful girlfriend.

Truthfully, it was daft of you to assume Remus would play fair. You mix two people who are as competitive as they are horny and it leads you here, on your boyfriend's lap, surely dripping onto the wooden bench under you.

He hums as if he's thinking over the definition of cheating and if what he's doing right now counts as it—which it does.

"S'that right?" He mumbles into your neck and you almost reach for your wand, honest, "I don't see any cheating here, love. Just good old fashioned studying, just like you wanted."

He thrusts up, and your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You see his quill moving out of the corner of your eye without the aid of a hand. "Cheater," you pant, but don't move to stop him or even continue writing your essay. You allow yourself to enjoy the slow, steady rock of his hips against yours—only for a moment. Every vein and ridge dragging against your hypersensitive walls.

You go to reach back—for support, for a futile attempt at stopping the way he rocks into you, feeling as inevitable as the ticking of time—with your other hand, but are stopped by the quill in your hand. You're reminded, there and then, that winning over Remus is almost, if not just as satisfactory as a hard won orgasim.

You put quill to ink pot, and then, quill to parchment. Remus curses behind you but doesn't stop. Not with you panting and whining behind gritted teeth. Not with you clenching around him like a Grindylow's spindly fingers, tightening with a merciless grip. He doesn’t stop until the familiar voice of his mates cuts through the fog.

"There you two are. Should've known you'd be held up in here weeks before your assignment is done. On a weekend at that—" Sirius trails off as he and James discover the little nook you and Remus have secluded yourselves too, as well as the...odd position you find yourselves in.

It's not that he's never seen you two be affectionate, especially nearing the full moon as it is, but you in Remus's lap like this, a flustered look on your face, well, he's not a dumbass. Something out of the ordinary is happening here.

James on the other hand is none the wiser, brows furrowing in self righteous disappointment.

"We've been looking for you two everywhere. Party's not that far off, you know the turn out will be lethal even if we lost the match to those snakes." There was a foul that should've been called, but wasn't, a sligh that the refs didn't catch. In traditional Gryffindor fashion, they didn't whine about a rematch or about the unfairness of it, and in typical Slytherin fashion, they didn't either. But they needed you two to help set up certain spells only you two knew because, well, you created them. Definitely not because they liked watching the way their best mate's girl stretched and bent as she set up in the Gryffindor commons.

"We know," Remus says, glancing up at the boys before looking back to one of the open textbooks. "The plan's to party the weekend away, yeah? It's why we're getting the assignment out of the way. Sooner you let us finish this," he's slowly sliding his hands up from your knees to your hips, pushing you down with such strength that your stomach clenches, "sooner we can help."

"It's...it's just an essay, Sirius. We'll be done before the Hufflepuffs start," you almost bite your tongue mid-sentence when Remus ghosts a callused finger over your aching clit, playing it off as a hiccup, "bringing the snacks.

Neither of you say anything more as you have a sneaking suspicion that they're going to catch on, chances of you opening your mouth to speak only for a moan to tumble out are high. Remus is quiet because he hopes they do figure it out, either from the audible wetness of your cunt or your eyes rolling back as he makes you cum. 

Remus knows they're in love with you and have been since third and fourth year. He's tempted to invite them a glimpse under the table so they can see how he has you stretched around his cock, squirming and wanton. What better way of making sure they know you're his?

And from the way Sirius looks the two of you over, glances down at the table, and raises his perfectly sculpted brows as James begins to ramble at you, there’s no mistaking that Sirius knows. Of course he does. Sirius always knows. His stormy eyes flick down again—deliberate, calculating—as if he’s debating whether or not to call you out. He hums, low and thoughtful, as if weighing the satisfaction of saying something versus letting the moment play out. Instead, he smirks faintly and leans against a nearby bookcase, letting James’s oblivious chatter fill the space.

Remus holds his gaze, unflinching, daring him to say a word. For a brief, reckless moment, he considers sliding his chair back just enough to let Sirius catch a glimpse of how thoroughly he has you. The thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and from the way Sirius’s smirk curves a fraction higher, it’s almost like he knows that, too.

Remus doesn’t full-on smirk when they lock eyes, but it’s a close thing.

"…Right.” Sirius tilts his head slightly, his sharp grey eyes dragging over the two of you like he’s piecing together a puzzle he’s already solved. His gaze flicks down to the table again—just briefly—and then back up to meet yours. The corner of his mouth twitches, not quite a smirk, but close enough to make your stomach drop. “You know, you two really are awful at being subtle.”

Your heart skips a beat, heat rushing to your face as you open your mouth to protest—except Sirius doesn’t give you the chance. He hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to Remus, and then back to you, like he’s enjoying the power of watching you squirm. “But don’t think being pretty gets you out of work,” he adds smoothly, leaning in to knock his knuckle against the table. “You’ve got until ten on the dot before I come back and drag you out of here myself.”

James, oblivious as ever, snorts and waves Sirius off. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just mad because we need you for the setup,” he says, rolling his eyes. He jabs a thumb at Sirius, then gestures toward the door. “I told him you’re probably in here studying, because what else would you two be doing on a Friday night?”

Sirius hums again, a low, knowing sound, his gaze locking with Remus’s in a silent challenge. The corner of his mouth curves, just enough for you to wonder if he’s going to say something more—something that will make it impossible to deny that he knows exactly what’s happening beneath the table.

But instead, he lets out a soft laugh, straightening from the bookcase. “Sure,” he drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “Studying.” His eyes grow bigger as he says it to emphasis just how little he believes that rubbage excuse.

He casts one last look over the two of you, smirking faintly, before turning to leave, James already rambling on about the next Quidditch match as they disappear into the corridor. Relief floods your chest for all of three seconds—before Remus tilts his hips just so, dragging another whimper from you as his cock presses deeper.

You bite your cheek, barely able to return James's wave goodbye before you're digging your nails into Remus's thighs. The same thighs that are currently spreading yours apart. Your skirt rides up, exposing you to the air and his sly hands.

"This," your hips twitch against his as he traces feather-light fingers over your puffy lips, swollen with need. You bite back a whine, huffing harshly through your nose as those fingers move down where the base of his cock sits snugly in you, tubbing slick where you and he are connected. "This is how you're cheating."

"If you're so much better than me, you should be able to focus, no problem, right?" He has an arm wrapped around your waist again, the other flipping pages.

"Fine." If that's how he wants to play, then you are more than game. You lean forward, elbows on the table as you grind your hips back and forth, barely raising off of him before coming back down with your fluttering warmth squeezing around him. "Focus, Lupin. Or, mh, at least try."

"Shhhit. D-dearest, that's not—" he cuts himself off with a truly shameless moan, both hands gripping your waist. He doesn't stop you, no, wouldn't dream of it. Instead, he helps you balance as you move faster, busy chasing your high more than you're focused on sabotaging Remus. "You, your—Merlin, you're bloody brilliant."

At this point, you don't know what'll come first: you, Remus, or Sirius's wrath.

[landojpg04]

SPIDER-BOY

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.

friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Two months. 

That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned. 

Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.

And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return. 

Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far. 

“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?” 

Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?” 

“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.” 

“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?” 

“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing. 

His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.” 

“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.” 

Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance. 

“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further. 

“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.  

Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?” 

“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.” 

He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.” 

You cocked a brow at him, “How so?” 

“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?” 

“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile. 

Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.” 

“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted. 

“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.” 

“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.” 

Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short. 

His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology. 

“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment. 

“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.” 

He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.” 

The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face. 

“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.” 

Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing. 

“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.” 

His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it. 

“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.” 

Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights. 

Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.

[landojpg04]

Hehehehe okay so what if you like wrote a fic about remus lupin x reader. The reader is a teacher (preferably like astronomy) and they're sneaking around together. students are making bets and stuff to see if they'll end up together, some girls just ship them really hard.

They're trying so hard to keep it a secret but they are so bad at it.

Me @ every guy who isn't a fictional wizard from the 70s ^^

An: This fluff attempt goes out to you, rip

Rumors

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

cw: A lot of kisses and cursing, stapler mishandling

Masterlist

WC:4181

The halls of Hogwarts were filled with hushed whispers and mindless patter of gossip. The newest topic of the year? 

Professor {L/N}, the newest astronomy hire. An Alchemist who perfected her work through star charting. Lupin had recommended you for the post to assist Sinistra. Mostly, however, you were hired on to assist with the newest project under Dumbledore. With your studies in the North Pole, you were tasked with on and off communications with the centaur herd within the Forbidden Forest. Specifically, their astronomy masters. It was easy, given your track record with magical creatures. Creating a bridge of mutual understanding between the professors and the herd. Dumbledore also saw you valuable to both potions and alchemy class; meaning you met a lot of students very fast.

So almost everyone knew you, you ran a tight ship in class, playful and respectful to the students paired with a charming personality, no one could bring themselves to even hate you.

That's probably how the rumors began, truthfully. Who doesn't want their two favorite teachers to end up together?

Much like Lupin, the students adored you. Hermione especially, after learning of your academic achievements of the past, while being a muggleborn witch. 

Your first reaction to seeing him probably don't help. First few steps into your new place of employment and you hurry over to the only face you cared to recognize, and give him a hug and a thank you for the recommendation. 

It wasn't anything big and it wasn't anything of a spectacle, but Merlin, was Hogwarts boring. The thrill of gossip seemed to have every student in a choke hold. Some said you were both childhood friends turned lovers, some said you were married and it was a scandalous affair, most of the rumors were just students talking about how perfect you both fit together. 

Your caring, funny, and nurturing behavior, to his stern more rugged form of bonding, you were affectionately dubbed ‘mum and dad.’ 

Never to your face however, and mostly by the first and seventh years. Something about growing shame and losing it in your final days of Hogwarts, remarkable.

~~~

“I'm telling you! He looks at her like she is the very stars she teaches us about!” A seventh year sighed dreamily with her friends. She had her chin in her palms and was staring up at the front of class while a few of their classmates took the practical exam. “I wish someone would look at me like that.”

“Really! I haven't seen so much tension between two faculty before! I wouldn't be surprised to find them snogging in the halls!” One of them joked and the other girls laughed.

“Truly, but I saw Professor {L/N} wearing a wedding ring. She took it off and put it in her pocket before class started. I wonder if they are, you know~ Never have I seen Professor Lupin wear one.” She wiggled her eyebrows and the original girl spoke up with a gasp.

“Oh don't you say that! Professor Lupin and Professor {L/N} would never!” She tutted and another voice chimed in, a boy from a seat behind them, making the three turn.

“I heard that they spent Christmas at school together.” Cedric cheeked and the three girls gasped and began to murmur among themselves about it, before Lupin clapped his hands.

He found it a bit amusing, he had let them continue that far. This is what his classes have become, listening to the students muttering about him and you, seeing how close they could possibly get to the truth. Remus, at a fault, was a gossip. He learned to love the thrill of rumors from Sirius and James, but what was better than rumors about you and a colleague? Rumors about you and a colleague that were so close to the truth.

“Right now! Who's next?”

The rest of the class went smoothly, everyone finished their exams and the classroom began to file out. As Lupin got comfortable in his seat, his door peaked open.

“If you are here for tutoring, please note my hours are posted on the door, this first hour has been reserved already.” Lupin called out from his chair, head leaned back. 

“Tutoring, hm?” A song-like voice rang out from the door. He slowly smirked and leaned forward, eyes locking onto yours. You were holding a box of Merlin knows what, walking straight up to his desk with that beautiful smile. 

“Is that so unbelievable?” He teased, voice lower as he stood up and walked around his desk. Looking over your shoulder to peek into the box, seeing several random objects, including a stapler, a retractable ruler, a metal pointing stick, and other random muggle things.

“Oh, totally. I think I remember you almost lost it when Peter asked for your notes.” You teased him and he chuckled, his breath brushing against your neck. He admired the way you seemed to not flinch, but melt into his proximity. 

“Peter was a terrible student.” He mumbled and you laughed, his hand slipping around your waist and leaning down to kiss the side of your neck. You laughed harder and squirmed away. 

“Hands to yourself. Now, show me where I can hide this contraband.” You lifted the box and shook it a bit. “The things they allow in muggle schools! Hmph!” You mused and he laughed, walking you up to his office and to the far back near a storage closet. He opened the door for you and you set the box down, looking around curiously.

The room was small, but big enough for four people to stand in it comfortably. The walls were covered in shelves filled with items from all over the school years, you ran your finger along one of the shelves and let the dust collect.

“What's on your mind, hm?” Lupin mused and you turned to smirk at him.

“Just wondering where they are hiding the really bad stuff. Still in Filtch’s closet?” You hummed as he stepped into the small room with you. His eyes looked you over and you gave him a look.

“Why's that, darling?”

“Just curious, out of all the things in that closet,” You hummed as Remus wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you against him. Your fingers dancing along his shirt collar. “Wonder how many of them were from you and that little gang of yours.” You hummed and he laughed.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours. It was chaste and sweet. He loved moments like this, away from everyone, where he could love you properly. He gave a hum as you got on your toes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down as he pulled you closer.

~~~

“I truly don't  think they have something going on. It's maddening really! The whole school seems to see it but me!” Ron groaned as he walked down the hall with Harry and Hermione, seemingly offended at the idea that the new Astronomy teacher was dating or even had interest in Lupin.

"I wouldn't put too much stock in rumors about someone's love life, Ronald," Hermione retorted, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, sorry Ron, but you're kind of…” Harry rolled his wrists and Ron narrowed his eyes.

“Kind of what?” 

“Kind of..” Harry trailed off.

“Kind of a complete idiot when it comes to love.” Hermione finally snapped, hugging her books to her chest. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to meet Professor Lupin.” She huffed and stomped off.

Ron was left standing there like an idiot, looking over at Harry. 

“What did I do?”

Harry tried to hide his smile and patted Ron's shoulder to urge him along and out of the halls.

~~~

The kiss had grown a bit heated, Remus pushed you deeper into the closet as he muttered about how badly he needed to have you in his arms. How much he loved you, how he wanted you closer, so impossibly close.

You, of course, returned the sentiment. He was made for your hands it seemed, every moment he wasn't between them made you yearn for just another hour of listless cuddles or moments like this. Sneaking away from responsibilities to show your love and devotion to one another. 

If only it could last longer-

“Professor Lupin?” Hermione's voice called out into his office. Remus cursed and you quickly stumbled back. He cleared his throat, shuffling through the confiscated objects, to find anything he could snag. 

“I'll be out in a moment!” He called back as you fixed his tie and ruffled shirt, he grabbed the first thing he spotted and stole another quick kiss from you before leaving the room.

You leaned against a shelf and watched from the crack of the door in amusement as Lupin hurried to his desk.

“Ms. Granger, I am terribly sorry, is it possible for us to reschedule?” Remus pressed and looked at what he had in his hand.

A stapler.

Why on earth did he grab a stapler?

Quickly he sat at his desk and pulled out a few assignments. Grabbing some he had already graded and began to staple them together. 

Hermione was no fool and he knew that, she stared at him in bewilderment, slowly putting her hands on her books tighter. “Uhm, Professor? Isn't that the stapler Professor {L/N} confiscated from Creevey?” 

Lupin began to staple things a bit quicker, waving her off. 

“Yes, Ms. Granger, I think it would be, but I did borrow it from the confiscated,” He weaned on, collected and poised, a bit too good at putting up a face. Everytime you two have almost been caught, he's shown this side. 

“Why would you possibly need a stapler?” He asked in disbelief.

“To.. staple?” He lifted his eyebrow at her. “I do appreciate your curiosity, but I assure you this is none of your concern.” He spoke idley, having opened the stapler and pressed the top down against the pages and his table. Hermione seemed appalled at the misuse. 

“Now, if you'll please allow me to pick another time-” Before he could finish his statement, he attempted to raise his hand, only for his wrist to be locked in place. He looked down, just to see he had stapled his own sleeve to the desk under a few pages of paper. 

You had to cover your mouth and so did Hermione.

“Uhm, on second thought, sir, I think I'll spend my study hour in the library.” She slowly smirked, turning to briskly walk away.

Remus slowly sunk his face into his hands, the second his classroom door was closed he waved his hand to shut his office door. Only for the room to be filled with your laughter.

You walked out of the room, holding your sides as Lupin lost his front and stared at you with flushed cheeks.

“Not a word-”

“No! No please!” You wheezed out. “Several! Several words must be had!” You doubled over his desk, struggling to get the staple from his sleeves, when you finally managed, you were throwing your head back absolutely lost in boisterous laughter.

Remus wasn't even mad. How could he be? You looked so damn happy. So giddy with joy at the embarrassing show he put on. Quickly, he stood, walking around his desk with a purpose and grabbed your cheeks. You were still struggling to catch your breath as he playfully scoffed at you.

“Not very polite, Professor {L/N}.” He taunted and you grabbed his biceps and clung to him to try and clam down. It didn't help when he leaned down and began to pepper kisses all over your hot face. 

“Mercy!” You wheezed and he shook his head.

“What happened to all those words, Professor?” He teased and you shook your head, giggling as he absolutely mawled you with his lips.

~~~

The Grandhall was lively with the buzz of Sirius Black’s attacks. Managing to get into the Gryffindors’ common room was a feat that bewildered everyone.

However, what everyone was truly talking about was how he broke into the astronomy tower and Professor {L/N}’s office. It had managed to get out that Sirius Black himself left you a note that Dumbledore promptly confiscated. More accurately, the conversation was about how unbothered you were about the news.

That, and how a certain professor reacted to that news. 

He had gone down to the commons with McGonagall to check on Harry and the other students. Only when Flitwick came up in a rush and announced the break in and how you were nowhere to be found, the students watched in horror and shock as Lupin pulled his wand and ran from the towers at a speed they couldn't determine was truly human.

He found you soon after, running down the hall towards the Gryffindor tower, also looking for Harry. He stopped and pulled you into a tight hold no one could see. You were confused at first, but you eventually melted into him. You two were spied on by none other than Colin Creevey, who snapped a photo and was showing it around the lunch table. 

“See! I knew it! What a romantic! Ran straight to her in the face of danger?” One of the seventh years swooned and Ron scoffed.

“I don't get it, it's just two people hugging.” He mumbled and began to poke at his food, the twins giving each other a look before they rushed to tease Ron.

“Two people hugging,” Fred started.

“Hands below the waist!” George chimed in, holding up the photo as if to emphasize his point, gesturing to where Lupin's hands were holding you so tight your heels were slightly off the ground.

“Oh, how scandalous.” Fred concurred and Ron rolled his eyes.

“I hug Hermione, does that make us secretly married?” Ron pushed and Hermione quickly looked down at her book in a slight flush. 

“You wish.” George snickered and Fred clapped his hand on Ron's back, making him cough on his potatoes.

“Really, Ronald dearest, you wouldn't know the difference. You hardly know how to hold a girl now.” He teased and George nodded along.

“You'll get there one day, brother. For now you'll have to trust us.”

“This,” They both pointed this time.

“Is not a normal hug.” Both of them spoke at the same time.

Angelica finally spoke up. “Given the context, that man is whipped. Even if nothing is happening now, he is so in love it's humbling.” She got up and gathered her Quidditch gear.

“Come on boys.”

“Right behind you.” Fred purred and earned himself a look from her over her shoulder, George laughed as the three of them hurried off. Leaving the photo for Ginny to pick up.

“Oh yeah, there is absolutely no platonic explanation for this.” She hummed and tossed it to the center of the table, Neville shrugged, no wanting to contribute. 

“I think that whatever is happening between those two, it's clear they care about each other.” Hermione hummed and Harry finally agreed. Suddenly, he looked at his friends with a look of absolute mischief.

“Do you know how we can find out?” He mused and Hermione gave a groan and Ron shot up in his seat.

“How?”

Harry smirked and pulled out the map the twins had gifted him, showing it off to his friends with a cocky smirk. You had caught him with it days ago, and simply zipped your lips and walked away.

“If they are meeting anywhere, it's likely the astronomy tower.”

~~~

Now.. the plan didn't go exactly as planned.

“And I simply can not comprehend how all three of you continue to be the only Gryffindors I've had to reprimand this year!” Lupin’s voice filled the otherwise silent and empty Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom. Unfortunately for the trio, who were out far past curfew, Lupin just so happened to be on his way to the Astronomy tower when he spotted them seemingly just on time for his arrival.

“What about my brothers?” Ron muttered before Hermione shot him a look, elbow jabbing his side.

“Ronald.” She hissed.

The entirety of Hogwarts Valley had been buzzing with the news of Sirius Black’s newest escapade into the castle and Lupin could not comprehend why the three thought it was a good idea to do everything but what they were told. 

“Safety comes first and for me to find you lot outside of your dorms with a murder on the loose? With this bloody-” Lupin began to lift the map before his eyes snapped up at the sound of his door opening. He quickly shut his mouth when he saw you peak into the dark space.

“Remus?” You called out, before you paused and stared at the four infront of you. Your mind firing off a million excuses in quick succession. “Oh, I was unaware you had company.”

Lupin sighed and rubbed his face, seeming to untangle himself from the thralls of his anger. It wasn't uncommon for you two to find eachother late at night like this, but was certainly not the greatest idea of his yet- reprimanding the trio when he knew you'd be coming. As you always did when he didn't meet you at the Astronomy tower as promised. His favorite part of the end of a stressful day was a night full of whispers, stories and playful remarks. Reminiscing on your school years while recreating some memories long forgotten after the war. This time, not in his dorm, but his office or your room. “It's quite alright. I can still review your lesson plans.”

He was a terrifyingly good liar. That should not be attractive.

“Right. I will be in your office, Lupin.” You remarked and began to walk past the group of three who looked at you like you might save them. Sorry kiddos- he was grumpy enough as it was. 

You gave them a grimace, glancing at the map before quickly looking away with wide eyes and hurrying over to the office. Lupin caught the look and held up his hand. “Stop.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and slowly turned to face him. Giving him your adorable nervous look that you knew didn't work on him- well, you tried.

He made a come hither motion and you walked over, ready to be lectured like the kids beside you. He held up the map and you gave a nervous smile. 

“What? However, did you find this, Harry? This is supposed to be in Flinch’s office!” You gave the worst and most unbelievable fake disappointed tone, hands on your hips and frowning down at the three. You struggled not to smile as Harry gave a small one, before laughing a bit. Hermione covered her face in a mix of fluster and secondhand embarrassment. Ron was grinning ear to ear. 

“{L/N}...” Lupin warned and you huffed.

“You got me in trouble with the big boss here, Harry.” You teased and he finally cracked his lips into a brighter smile. You looked back at Remus and slowly interlocked your fingers in front of your lips, as if it did anything to hide your face. “In my defense-”

“You three are dismissed.” He mused quickly and slammed the paper on the table beside him. You tried your best to hide your smile. It was hard to take him seriously when you have seen him panic and staple his sleeve to a desk. The trio hurried to shuffle out, Harry sent you a greatful look and you simply winked at him. Something Remus rolled his eyes at.

“Did you see Harry with the map?” He asked in a stern tone when the kids left. You looked away and tried to look a little regretful. 

“It's very possible.” 

“And you didn't think to take it?” He asked in an incredulous tone.

“I mean, it certainly crossed my mind.” You slowly stopped hiding your smile and looked back to the taller man who was taking a few steps into your space.

“And you didn't?” He pushed.

“Well, in all fairness, Rem. It is technically his.” You snarked back finally and Remus gave a bitter laugh. 

“Professor {L/N}, did you think that maybe if this map fell into the wrong hands it could cause a serious danger to Harry?” He pushed and you clicked your tongue. You knew who he was talking about. A conversation you've had a million times, well, more an argument. It got worse when he heard of the note.

He was so willing to believe Sirius Black to be a killer, while you believed Sirius could bring himself to the point of ending someone's life, James Potter was more than a human to him. Even with his plea of guilty, you couldn't believe it. James, Lily, and Harry? You would stake your life on it. He was innocent.

It was what you were looking for, an explanation, hopefully that was what the note was for. But unlike your communications with the magical creatures of the forest, Dumbledore was not so willing to give up information when he had it. The old prick-

“I hate when we talk about this.” You huffed in honesty and leaned back on one of the desks of the room. He sighed through his nose and pinched the bridge that connected it to his forehead. “Honey-”

“Ah ah ah! Honey is for marriage.” You mused and he did his best to fight the smile growing on his face. Easily letting you steer the conversation from his own negative thoughts, he hated being upset around you. “That so?”

“It's very so. More so than most so’s.” You hummed and he blinked a few times at you before he couldn't help but smirk. 

“Give me my mother's ring back then.” He mused and held out his hand. You have a faux gasp. 

“Excuse you, sir. I seem to remember your mother telling you this belonged to me.” 

“When we were 18!” He challenged, letting himself fall victim to your antics. Like school children. “And last I checked, your reaction was less then pleasant.”

“We had been dating for a year and I was going to the North Pole in my defense, tart boy.” You scoffed and cringed at the memory. How you practically fall out of your chair when Hope made a comment about her ring. 

“Tart boy?”

“Tart boy.”

“I'll show you a tart boy.” He scoffed and took your cheeks. You giggled like a goofball, grabbing his lapels and trying to pull him closer. He smirked at you and kept his distance.

“Remus-” You huffed and glared at him a bit. His smirk only grew as he reached into your pocket, pulling out the modest gem. You rolled your eyes fondly and held out your hand for him, he slipped the ring back in its rightful place.

“Sorry, call me old fashioned. But I'd like to kiss my fiancé, not my coworker.” He teased and you couldn't help but laugh. 

“You absolute sap.”

“Hard not to be.” He mumbled and leaned in, finally kissing you. Both your eyelids lowered but he held eye contact. So much affection bumbling in your chests, it was too much to look away. Eventually, you gave into your shyness, closing your eyes. He slowly pushed your knees apart and slipped between them, making your face grow hot.

He pulled away at this and you huffed, he smirked at you when you looked back up at him. “Hey, sir, your lips on mine again. It's a marital duty and all that jazz.”

“Thought we had to be married for marital privileges, honey?” 

“Oh don't use anything I say around you against me, I can hardly think.”

He bellowed out a laugh at your mischievous look up at him. Slowly biting your lip as you struggled to keep your confident act up.

“Whatever will I do with you, {L/N}?”

“Well, I have a few ideas.” You hummed and began to fiddle with his tie. He curled an eyebrow and you looked forward, looking up at his hazel eyes with a playful pout. “Kiss me again. I promise, you keep my lips occupied, no more bad behavior.”

“Because you won't be able to talk?” 

“Precisely.”

“What in the world!?” You suddenly heard from the far corner of the room. Your face filled with shock and snapped over to see an empty corner, you could of sworn you heard Ronald just a moment ago.

 Remus quickly moved from between your legs and waved his wand, yanking off the invisibility cloak to reveal an appalled Ron, a delighted Harry, and a flustered Hermione.

“Bloody hell!” Remus boomed and you covered your mouth and looked away. Doing your best not to laugh.

“Yes, mum and dad do kiss when the kids are away.” You cheeked and Remus looked at you like you had just made some grand offense to his ears.

Hermione giggled and Harry’s smile grew ten fold.

Ron, however, seemed very displeased.

“I owe the twins so much money.”

[landojpg04]

can u do a remus x reader where they are best friends and remus has been in love with reader forever, and reader is kind of a player because she also loves remus but didnt know that the feeling was reciprocated

i did a bit of a different take on this, hope you enjoy it babe

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: suggestive references and themes (talk of shagging, etc.), drinking and partying in hogwarts, fem!reader, use of y/n, sirius' pov for half then your pov (with all the mental tirades that includes), partier!reader more so than player, you have snogged james and mary (in the past), platonic!sirius but borderline fwb at one point, platonic!wolfstar, pining!remus, secretly pining!reader, no slutshaming, background jegulily, confessions, happy ending ofc

Sirius was in a bit of a difficult situation.

On the one hand, he had a beautiful girl all but crawling into his lap in the middle of an admittedly good party and he knew she would be a hell of a great time.

On the other hand, he was absolutely certain that his best friend was in love with her, despite his many denials, and he was not sure if she herself knew yet.

She had to, right? You had to know that Remus was in love with you with how he had been making puppy eyes at you more or less since first year. The two of you were the best of friends and went everywhere together – it was simply impossible that you had not had a conversation or two about it. But then again, Sirius and Remus were also the best of friends and he had not heard so much as a squeak about any such conversation taking place, let alone him admitting his feelings.

Could you truly be so oblivious? You had to know, and are choosing to live your life as you wanted regardless, as is your right. Would Sirius be an arse if he rejected your current casual advances because of Remus? If he was, would he be an arse for telling you about Remus' feelings or for dictating how a woman conducts herself based on the feelings of a man?

Sirius was way too drunk to be thinking any of these thoughts.

Yet, immediate action was required in order to handle the situation at hand. You and Sirius had been sitting beside one another for a while now, your leg thrown over in between his thighs, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, your hand on his chest. The music was absolutely blaring, the alcohol was flowing freely through your bodies, making the places where you touch that much hotter, in all semblances of the word. Sirius knew that if he was to tilt his head down to look at you, your lips would surely smash together.

It was not uncommon for you to shag some lucky bastard at these parties. You were carefree and fun in that way that made you fit seamlessly into your group of friends when Remus introduced you. It was never serious or deep on either front, Sirius knew as much – you and Mary had an arrangement of mutual fun going on for a while and you had even snogged James once before he got with Regulus and Lily.

Sirius participated equally as enthusiastically and the two of you were good friends, so really, it made sense that you ended up in this situation at last.

Still, sirens were flaring in his head screaming "BAD FRIEND, BAD FRIEND" the longer he sat with you like this. Because whenever you did find someone to hook up with at a party, you always left Remus' side to do so, as you were otherwise attached at the hip. And Sirius was the one left to watch him struggle to keep his face from crumbling every time. He was also always the one to poke the bear – or the wolf, if you please – by confronting Remus about his feelings for you constantly, both in a playful and serious manner.

As the designated campaigner for "Remus get your shit together and kiss her yourself", he should not be making that more difficult for his best mate.

He also should not get involved in whatever delicate situation you two had going on, but when his eyes flicked across the room, terrified to make eye contact with Remus wherever he was, determination grew in his chest. Something had to be done.

"Are you good, Siri?" you asked from beside him, words slurred just enough for him to know you were tipsy but not so much that he was concerned.

He took a deep breath. "Actually. Can we talk? Alone?"

Your body grew a bit tense against his, enough that he knew you understood this was not some scheme to get you alone. "Sure," you said wearily, already detangling your body from his.

The two of you got up and hastily made for the portrait hole. Sirius hoped that the cool stone walls outside would help him sober up enough to be able to communicate effectively.

His heart sank just a little bit when he caught sight of familiar tawny hair leaning against the wall by the exit. He knew all too well how this looked. Remus' eyes lit up when they landed on you, his mouth opening to make some sort of greeting when the words died on his tongue at the sight of a guilty Sirius trailing behind you.

You seemed nonplussed. "Oh, hi Rem," you said brightly, almost giggling around your words from the alcohol. You stepped off your path for a second to press a kiss to his cheek, smiling softly at him. "You having fun?"

Remus' face seemed strained, but he kept his smile up, even if just for you. "Yes, dovey. Are you?"

You nodded and squeezed his hand before taking a few steps back and away from him. "Very much so. We're just heading out for a quick chat."

He looked quickly between you and Sirius, never quite meeting his eyes, and Sirius felt as if he was being incriminated just by standing there with his hair slightly tousled from you playing with it. The hurt he could see play across his best mate's face was exactly the type of thing he was hoping to avoid by the awkward conversation he was about to have.

Remus' smile grew more thin-lipped than before as his gaze settled somewhere on your cheek. "Great. Have fun."

You just nodded once more before turning on your heel and making a beeline for the door, seemingly unaware of what just transpired between the three of you. Sirius stalled for a moment, wondering if he should say something, but decided against it in case Remus tried to stop him once he realised what the chat actually will be about.

It didn't much matter, though, because Remus stalked off without ever meeting his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, Sirius hurried over to the door to the common room that you were holding open from the outside, smiling back at him. You truly were such a lovely girl, and he hoped to Merlin he was not fucking anything up for you right now.

Stepping through the portrait, he let the Fat Lady slam shut behind him, cringing at the sudden silence that enveloped the two of you. Though, the air was as much of a welcome reprieve as he had expected it to be, and he breathed in a huge chunk of it to steal his nerves.

"Listen, Sirius, if things got too touchy in there then I'm sor–" you tried to begin, but he all but threw his hands up between you in a display of innocence.

"No, no, dollface, don't you worry about that one bit," he laughed out nervously. "I was very much enjoying myself. I just realised– fuck how do I say this?"

He tried to think clearly and find a way to communicate what he knew in his heart to be true.

"No swearing in my halls!" The shrill voice he knew to belong to the portrait that had tortured him for seven years sounded behind him.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said rather petulantly and held out his hand for you to take so that he could lead you down the hall and away from her. He also hoped you read it as the display of well-meaning and friendship that it was.

You accepted his hand gracefully and his heart did calm down just the slightest from it.

The two of you hurried down the hallway, feeling every bit the teenagers that you were, settling down in a corner just far enough away for privacy. The cool stone did marvels for his overheating, and Sirius took full advantage of it by leaning his head back against them.

"What did you realise?" you asked then.

"Huh?" he answered, admittedly quite dumbly.

You had the decency to laugh at him instead of mock him. "Earlier. You said I didn't do anything wrong, but that you realised something."

Sirius heaved a deep breath. "Right, right," he murmured before clearing his throat. Was he overstepping? Possibly. Would he be ripping the bandaid off anyway? Absolutely. "See, I was having fun earlier and saw it as what it was – just two friends having fun, yeah? But I fear not everyone feels the same."

"I swear to Godrick, if you accuse me of having feelings for you, Black, I will chuck you off the Astronomy Tower," you said through a laugh.

"I'm thankfully not that conceited, babe. But it wasn't you I was referring to."

You looked at him as if to say who, then?

"I think– or no, I actually know for certain, even if the stupid sod won't admit it. Erm, okay, so. Wow, how do I explain that? He's my best mate, you know, and I–"

"Sirius, you are making no sense right now."

"Remus is in love with you."

You had opened your mouth to volley back, clearly expecting him to still be stumbling over his words, but now it was just left hanging open as you stared at him, baffled. The two of you sat in silence for much longer than Sirius could have expected, or perhaps that was just his nerves dragging out the moment. You seemed to be fighting for breath.

"Excuse me, what?!" you breathed out, voice increasing in crescendo throughout your sentence. The what ricocheted down the hall; Sirius grimaced.

"So, you didn't know," he surmises, having answered his mental tirade from earlier. "I honestly don't know how you haven't seen it, that boy has literally been mooning for you for years. I'm surprised we haven't had to keep the actual Moony from tracking you down and wagging his tail at you once a month."

Your face told him that this was not a time for jokes, yet somehow you still laughed at that. Sirius realised with horror that your laugh sounded rather wet and saw you aggressively wiping at your face, as if you were about to start crying. "I'm so confused," you whispered.

Sirius sat there rather dumbly, unsure how to make it any more clear. "I don't know what to tell you, babe. He has feelings for you, always has. I don't blame you if you don't return them and I'm sure neither will he – but, yeah no, I figured you should know. And while I totally respect you shagging whoever you want, I just don't think he could handle it if it were me. So I have to back out."

Miraculously you nodded in understanding, despite his ramblings. Your movements were slow, as if you were trying to let his words settle in your bones, processing years of misinterpreting in a matter of seconds.

Sirius wanted to help. "I've tried to get him to tell you himself, but he hasn't even admitted it out loud yet."

That seemed to snap your attention back to him, a fierce look growing rapidly in your eyes. "He hasn't told you? Then how do you know?!" You waved your hands between the two of you to emphasise his point.

Not quite what he expected, Sirius found himself scrambling for words. "Everyone knows! It's literally written all over his face whenever you're near!"

"I've been looking at that same face a lot and I haven't seen that?" you question then, wielding your argument as if you were about to disagree with him.

"Y/N. Baby." Sirius tried to articulate his words clearly. "Remus has feelings for you. I swear on my life. You don't have to do anything with that information, I just had to tell you."

You narrowed your eyes at him, seemingly scrutinising every inch of his face. "If this is a prank, you're dead, Black."

"It's not a prank. I swear on Effie and Monty Potter, the absolute angels they are." He held his hands over his heart for emphasis.

"You could be wrong."

"I'm not though."

You hummed in consideration, still not letting him out from the hold of your inspecting eyes. "I have to go find out." You said it as if it was plain and simple, and before Sirius knew it, you were standing above him.

"What?" he said, again dumbly. He should never drink again.

"Thank you, Siri, I'll see you later," you called as you were already moving down the hallway at an impressive speed, given you had been shocked still mere seconds ago.

Sirius remained sitting on the floor letting his head drop back against the stone and his eyes fall shut. He has either taken one for the team or massively fucked up – the best part is that he still had no idea which one it would be.

This was bound to be an eventful evening.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Your heart was resounding through your entire body and you could barely feel the tips of your fingers – not at all because of the alcohol, you were actually quite certain you had more or less sobered up by now.

No, it was because Remus loved you. Remus Lupin, the best friend you could ask for, the unrequited, unattainable love of your life, for some unidentified reason loved you.

According to Sirius, at least.

Merlin, how you would skin him alive, should he be wrong.

The party had picked up its pace in the few minutes you and Sirius spent outside in the hallway. Someone had conjured up a light fog to roll around on the floor, allegedly to help with the atmosphere but no doubt it was really because the floor was becoming too filthy to look at directly. Warm bodies pressed into each other everywhere and there was a smell of sweat and drinks that on another day might have been enticing. Right now, you only had one focus.

"Where's Remus?" Your words were rushed as you latched onto the nearest arm you could find, grinning brightly when the familiar face of James came into view.

"Hiya, love," he greeted merrily, his other arm wrapped protectively around Lily. "What's up?"

"Remus. Where is he?" you repeated, albeit a bit more abashedly as you saw Lily glance at James sideways.

"Oh," James said and furrowed his brows, as if he was thinking. Then, he turned his head down to look at Lily who was already regarding him. "Where do we think Moony is, darling?"

Lily shifted her gaze between the two of you while biting her lip. She seemed to be making a quick appraisal. "I believe he headed up to the dorm early. Something about feeling tired?"

Nothing got past Lily, and you could tell from her somewhat smug yet concerned expression that she knew something you did not. Or, perhaps you did.

You let out a quick breath. "Oh." You couldn't help the slight guilt that settled in your stomach – even though you still couldn't know for certain that it was because of you. "I'll go find him, then."

"Are you sure?" Lily asked. "He might want to just sleep it off."

Sleep it off?

You nodded, confidence in your choice growing with every second. "I'm sure, yeah, but thanks Lils."

There was not a speck of judgement in her eyes, though her smile remained apprehensive. "I mean, he always wants to be with you, so it should be fine." She winked at you and suddenly your stomach was dropping because did everyone but you know?

Well, perhaps not James because he looked between you and Lily, entertained confusion written all over his face. "Okay, then. Great? See ya later, yeah?"

You squeezed both of their forearms in thanks before stepping backwards away from them, almost knocking into two people on the way. God, this place was packed. You threw some general sound of agreement that hopefully sounded as warm as you intended it before all but running towards the stairs to the boys' dormitory. On the way, you swear you almost lost your life twice, tripping over feet that grew invisible in the fog.

By the time your steps landed on the stairs, you were able to squeeze into the stone wall and quickly run up while avoiding those hanging over the railing. Truly hazardous, these Gryffindors.

The trek down the hall to the dorm Remus had shared with his friends for all seven years of your friendship was as practiced as it was easy. Yet, as your mind was replaying your conversations with Sirius and Lily over and over at record speed, it felt like it stretched on for miles, your own road to Calvary.

Your fingers acted off of instinct as they reached up to quietly rap on the door with two knuckles.

"Sod off," you heard Remus' muffled voice call through the door. You couldn't help the small smile that spread across your face.

You cracked the door open just enough to poke your head through and catch sight of him sprawled out on his bed, face down. Your smile widened. "Me too?"

It was as if his body was a push poppet that suddenly had its strings drawn taut again – his spine straightened and his head whipped around to look at you wide-eyed. He clearly had not expected you. He made some sounds that could probably classify as guffawing before he snapped his mouth shut to sit up and collect himself. The whole process was barely a few seconds, but the syrupy effect on time from the hallway seemed to have joined you into his dorm. Relief washed through your body when he smiled at you, even if it seemed somewhat strained.

"Of course not dove, sorry."

You slipped the rest of your body in through the door and shut it quietly behind you. The silence in this dorm had never felt so complete before.

In your rush to get to him, you hadn't once thought to think of what to say to him. How could you ever possibly breach the topic? It seemed like he could sense your hesitation because he sat more comfortably on the edge of his bed, wool sock-clad feet planted firmly against the floor. He had an inquisitive yet somewhat nervous look on his face.

He beat you to it. "You alright? Shouldn't you be out there, having fun?"

You couldn't help reading some judgement in that, knowing what you now maybe know. "What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, not quite able to hide the potential hurt in your voice.

Remus could pick up on your every mood and his eyes widened comically and he raised his hand as if he was about to talk to a scared wild animal. "Nothing! No, not like that, I just meant – it's a party. You love parties. Did someone hurt you?" His voice grew small by the end of his sentence. You feared someone was referring to Sirius, the only reason he could imagine you leaving a gathering to go be alone with him. You hated the idea.

There were probably a hundred better ways to go about this, but your mind felt muddy with the overwhelming feelings, your earlier drinks and the damn fog that somehow had made its way into your lungs. And you just could not believe any of it.

You were not proud of what you said next.

"Remus, are you in love with me?"

If it had been quiet before, there were no words for the shift in atmosphere after that question. It was like you were alone in a black hole, just the two of you.

Remus' head actually reared back from shock, both from your suddenness and the question itself. His pretty mouth hung slightly open, bottom lip making a slight jerky movement you could only describe as quivering.

"I– what?" He let out, it was somewhere between a gasp and an exclamation.

You took a few steps closer, so that you were standing in front of him, feeling the sudden need to be near, to hear, to know. "Sirius told me."

Remus jerked up too, suddenly standing within arm reach. His eyes were fluttering and his mouth opening and closing in a way that almost confirmed it on its own. "Y/N, I–"

"Remus." You interrupted quietly, sensing his continued shock and oncoming fib. "Don't lie, please."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered then, eyes growing glossy as they flicked all over your face. "I– I'm sorry."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his pained expression. "I don't understand?" you said weakly. Why was he apologising? "Remus, are you in love with me?"

He shut his eyes and turned his head to the side. Your fears were confirmed when he brought up a hand to wipe at the part of his face you couldn't see. "Please," he begged. "Don't."

Don't make me say it.

You have to.

"Remus." Your tone matched his despairing one – his name was your plea.

He turned his head back to you and met your eyes head on with his own red-rimmed ones. A slow sigh was let out through his nose, the sound of defeat, giving in to you as he always did.

Gods, he always did.

"I'm in love with you," he whispered then. Clearly, without any hint at insecurity or deceit.

You took one small step closer, bringing your trembling fingers up to lightly ghost over his cheeks – not quite holding his face, but almost, millimetres apart. You were sure you looked half-crazed as you stood there in silent shock, studying his face in a flurry.

There was no contempt in his face at your stupor. Just guilt and sorrow.

"Why?" you breathed out.

"I'm sorry," was all he offered, once more.

"No, no, don't say that," you insisted, voice suddenly growing stronger. More certain. Your hands made proper contact with his cheeks, and you could feel him deflate beneath your touch. "Please don't be sorry."

At last some confusion drifted into his eyes as he regarded you. "Don't tell me not to apologise; that just makes me want to apologise for apologising." There was light humour in his tone, a smidge of hope. Hope that you wouldn't believe him awful for falling in love with you.

He was in love with you.

You laughed then, not just at his poor attempt at a joke but at the situation, at the prospect.

"You love me?" There was no hiding the absolute awe in your voice.

The guilt was still there, but it made room for softness as he gave you the smallest, saddest smile. "Of course, dove."

You breathed a sigh of relief and leaned forward to kiss his smile into a happy one.

Remus’ body immediately stiffened beneath your touch, shock radiating through him. Then, beautifully, you felt him soften once more beneath you, felt his eyelashes brush your cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut, felt him blow the air from his lungs through his nose in a long sigh, breath warm and inviting against you. Slowly, you parted your lips and brought his between yours, deepening the kiss. Unlike your movements earlier, there was no urgency, there was just him in your hands, him against your lips, his tongue against yours.

You let one of your hands travel to the nape of his neck where you played with his shorter strands of hair, breaking the kiss to lean your forehead against his. Your eyes remained closed as you soaked up up the moment, but you could feel his own burn through your skin. Could hear him guffawing again. A smile settled permanently onto your lips.

“You love me?” you repeated, knowing the answer, but wanting to feel the words on your tongue once more, mixing with him.

He nodded fervently against you, jostling your head slightly to which you let out a soft giggle.

“You– I–” he began, cutting himself off. “Do you…?” he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

“I love you,” you whispered, in awe at getting to say the words aloud in this context. “I’m so in love with you, sweet boy.”

His body disconnected from yours briefly, forcing you to open your eyes and support your own weight, as he leaned back to stare at you incredulously, confused, shocked. His eyebrows were furrowed almost as if he were mad, but you knew in your heart that he was not.

“I– no, that makes no sense,” he whispered almost to himself, shaking his head as he tried to process your words. You fought not to laugh at that – because it would seem like you were laughing at him and that was not nice. You would have more than enough time to be not nice later, for now he needed your patience. “You? Love me?”

You nodded with a smile. His body was still close to yours and you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his waist, interlocking your fingers at the small of his back.

There was so much emotion and vulnerability swimming in his eyes, you would almost feel bad if you weren’t so unbelievably happy.

“I never thought you could have feelings for me,” you confessed breathlessly, grinning wickedly despite the pain you were sharing. “Here I’ve been, running around thinking the greatest love I had ever felt was wholly unreciprocated.”

This only seemed to confuse him further, though he was relaxing beneath your touch. “You… This whole time?”

“I suppose so,” you mused. “I only realised two years ago, though.”

Remus let out a groan and a laugh at the same time and then – thanks to any and every god – he leaned his forehead on your shoulder, burying his face in you. “I cannot believe I’ve been torturing myself and you’ve been… in love with me too. This whole time.”

You dared to kiss the side of his head from where he was leaning against you and tightened your hold on him. Something you had done a thousand times over as his friend, yet this sent entirely new sparks through you.

As if he just thought of something, he lifted his head suddenly to furrow his brows at you. “Why would you ever think I couldn't love you?”

You tilted your head at him. “How many times have you not brushed Sirius off when he makes jokes about us? Or said you would never want to be in a relationship? I thought you might view me as a sister by now.” Despite your teasing, residue hurt still clung to your words.

The grimace was instant and Remus shook his head as if that is the worst thing he has ever heard. “Gods, no, I sure do hope not.” 

You both laughed quietly, carefully. His hands were slow as they went up to hold your jaw, fingers brushing the side of your neck in reverence. “I’m sorry I made you think that, dovey.”

“Don’t be. Then I have to be sorry for snogging our friends in front of you.”

Remus flushed slightly at your words, but the awed affection plastered all over his every feature did not waver. “I don’t want you to be,” he murmured while still caressing you carefully. “I just… I just want you. Will you be mine, dovey?”

Your face inched closer and closer to his, your grins growing mirrored against each other. “I am yours,” you whispered against his lips before closing the distance once more.

The most heavenly kisses you ever shared would be those with your lovely Remus.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Oi! Pads!”

Sirius flinched with his whole body, looking over his shoulder with a sheepish smile to face his inevitable death in the form of one Remus Lupin. He had been waiting for it all night as he partied with James, and had managed to get halfway through his second game of butterbeer pong before it was time for his execution.

Reaching out for James’ hand, he shook it firmly and matter-of-factly. “Lovely knowing you mate, take good care of my brother, yeah?”

James seemed entirely nonchalant to the whole ordeal, shaking his hand in return. “Yeah, sure, safe travels Padfoot.”

Sirius then turned to Remus who was descending the stairs from the dormitory, holding his hands up in defence. “Okay, hear me out–” he begins but he was cut off.

He was cut off by a hug. 

Remus borderline slams into him, locking his arms over his shoulders and dragging him close to his chest. Awkwardly, Sirius returns the favour, patting him on the back and making what the fuck eyes at Mary over Remus’ shoulder.

“You’re a meddling bloody bastard,” Remus said into his ear. 

Here we go.

“But thank you.”

Oh. Oh.

He reared his head back so that he could see Remus and the shy yet pleased smile he wore, and Sirius’ whole face split into a painful, beaming smile. “It worked?” he asked giddily, jostling Remus where he was still trapped in the hug.

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus mumbled, though his grin grew.

The victorious, screeching holler Sirius let out was so loud it could be heard down to the dungeons.

[landojpg04]

Teasing kisses - Remus Lupin

summary: basically just dry humping with Remus cw: smut, dry humping, kind of sub!remus? 0.9k+ wc

You pressed kisses alongside the trail of Remus’s jawline, listening to the rhythm of his breathing. Your lips travelled back up to his face, kissing his cheeks, jaw, forehead, and lips, before dipping away again and continuing to cover his body in kisses. Remus’s hands laid on your hips, straddling his own, fingers twitching ever so often in an attempt not to move. Another kiss on his lips and his eyes were fluttering shut, leaning into you, but the kiss was already gone and you continued your loving attack on him. Remus kept his eyes closed, feeling the soft press of your lips against his scarred skin, listening to the steady beat of your heart. When Remus felt your lips approaching his, he straightened his back against the headboard of his bed, puckering his lips slightly. He felt your smile on his lips when you finally kissed him, but gasped slightly when you pulled away again torturously. Remus’s eyes flew open and he whined in need, begging a quiet “Please.” Your lips stilled against his skin, pulling away slowly before making solid eye contact with your boyfriend. 

“Please.” He breathed out again, eyes desperate. You smiled, one hand cupping Remus’s jaw, and leaning forward to lock lips with him. Remus inhaled deeply, a hand moving to hold the nape of your neck gently as he pulled you deeper into the kiss. His mouth opened slightly, prompting you to slide your tongue in between his lips, eliciting a quiet moan from the boy in front of you. Remus glided his tongue against yours, trying to gain access to your mouth before giving up and letting you have control. You giggled into the kiss, pulling away briefly before Remus was chasing your lips with his, desperately reconnecting them. He pecked your lips a few times, enjoying the feel of them against his, before letting you extend the kiss, pushing his chest back so he could fully lean against the headboard once more. You trailed your kisses back to his jaw, but one of Remus’s hands was instantly cupping your cheek and leading you back to his lips. You let Remus eagerly push his tongue into your mouth, licking harshly against your tongue to deepen the kiss.

Sighing in satisfaction, you ground your hips down against Remus's, rolling them experimentally. Remus shot away from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he gasped "Shit! Don't do that!" with a hand coming down to grip your bare thigh, just underneath your skirt. Scanning his panicked expression, you couldn't help the smile on your face when you felt his hardening cock straining against his trousers. "Why not?" You prodded, pushing your weight down onto his dick. Remus cursed under his breath, "I'll cum in my trousers." He replied with a whine, as though he knew it wasn't a good enough excuse for you to stop. Giggling corruptly, you resumed your movements, grinding down on your boyfriend's pelvis, a loud moan escaping you when your clit rubbed against the denim of his jeans. "Fuck, that feels too good." You mumbled, eyes fluttering closed momentarily. When you opened your eyes, Remus's expression had changed, jaw slack in awe.

Pressing kisses across Remus's collarbones, you smiled at the sound his quiet moans. You knew Remus had the strength to flip you over if he really wanted you to stop, but teasing him was just too fun. Remus gripped your hips, pushing you down onto his lap while his hips bucked up. It seemed to be a situation of 'I'll cum like this if you cum like this.' Biting down on the skin of Remus's neck, you tried muffling your moans, however you were unsuccessful. Remus cupped your face with both his hands, pulling you back up to slam your lips against his while you took charge of moving your hips, reaching down to pull your underwear to the side, maximising the friction.

All of a sudden, Remus was gripping your hips again, bucking his hips up to help flip you over, emitting a loud gasp from you as you broke the kiss. He used one hand to flip your skirt up before his hand migrated next to your head. Remus watched the movements of his hips against your cunt before deciding to lean forward on his forearms and reconnecting your lips in a kiss. You couldn't help but cry out into the kiss, wrapping your legs around your boyfriend's hips to pull his hips flush against you. Remus pulled away from the kiss, digging his head into the crook of your neck as his breathing sped up, small moans escaping his mouth with every hump of his hips into you. You whined restlessly, bearing nearly Remus's full weight as he rolled his hips into you, otherwise laying completely flat against you. "Fuck, fuck, I'm coming, I'm coming baby." Remus muttered as his hips became erratic against you, the harsh movement causing the cold zipper of his jeans to slide against your clit. The rough metal created the most perfect friction for you and you bucked your hips up, moaning loudly as your orgasm overtook your body, back arching off the mattress.

Remus laid flat against you as you recovered from your orgasm, lifting himself off you as you finally caught your breath. He unbuckled the belt around his hips to shimmy out of his jeans, and inevitably his sticky boxers. You sat up straight on the bed, watching him peel his boxers off, and copied his movements with your panties, tossing them to the side before crawling across Remus's bed and gripping his wrinkled shirt, sitting back on your ankles. Remus leaned down, giving you a soft kiss and gasping when your hands trailed lower teasingly. "Come on loverboy, we're not done yet."

[landojpg04]

would u write abt some angsty (mybe w a happy ending?) w remus, please? if possible maybe smtg like the bet trope, im soo down bad with bet tropes, 😔😔😔 im sorry if its a burden, and thank you for spending ur time reading this

You said "bet trope" and I said bet. So it's more fluff than angst... oops? I'll try to get more angst with Remus soon

Conducive

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

4.7k words

cw: fluff, lil angst,

“Moons, how is it that you’ve never been kissed, yet everyone calls you Casanova?” Sirius asks at dinner in the Great Hall one evening.

Remus raises his eyebrows but doesn’t look away from his plate.

“I respect women?” he offers. 

“We all respect women here. But come on, even Peter’s kissed Mary,” James adds.

Remus looks up at his friends. “I’m here for an education. Dumbledore was kind enough to let me be here; least I can do is focus. You three are distraction enough.”

“I just think you could do with some more… distractions,” Sirius says, waving his fork around as a prop to make his point. 

“If I wanted a female distraction, I’d have no issues obtaining it.”

“No issues, huh?” Peter asks. “Care to prove it?”

Remus shot him a glare. “Did you miss the part where I said if I wanted it?”

“I don’t see how you don’t want it.”

“Wormy’s got a point,” James says.

“Let me rephrase: If I needed a female distraction,” Remus says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure, I want it from time to time, but if anyone else found out about my furry little secret, I’d be out of here. So I’m making the most of my time.”

“No one is going to find out!” Sirius says. “Have. Some. Fun.”

“You lot found out.”

“We live with you.”

“Still. You don’t think if I got involved with someone that it would take them that long? It was hard enough lying to you. What if I start to actually like someone? It’d be impossible.”

“Then don’t like them. Just get them to like you enough to kiss them and then ditch them,” Sirius suggests, earning himself a glare from Remus.

“That just sounds cruel.”

“More cruel than you denying yourself feminine company?”

“I’m Casanova, remember? I get plenty of company.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I still think you should prove it,” Peter says. “Do what Pads suggested.”

“What?”

“Get a girl.”

“Keep her ‘round long enough to get off and then you jet. Easy ‘nough, yeah?” James clarifies for Remus, given his mildly confused look.

“No,” Remus says firmly. 

“What if we made a bet out of it?” Sirius asks, leaning forward. 

That got Remus’ attention.

“Okay, then what do I get out of it? When I win.” 

“If, and only if, you can get a girlfriend and snog the living daylights out of her, we will… uh… willingly study with you in the library for finals. We’ll be complacent participants, helping you and ourselves. As you try to drag us to do every year,” Sirius says. He pauses as the other two nod. “And if you fail, butterbeers are on you for the rest of the year.”

Remus snorts. “So if I do it, I just get company in the library and you benefit. But if I lose, I’m financially ruined?” 

“More incentive,” Peter retorts. 

“You’re on,” Remus says, offering his hand for Sirius to shake. He does. “If I wasn’t sure I could do it, I’d be asking for better terms.” 

“Wait!” James interrupts with Remus and Sirius still mid-shake. “I feel like we should pick who it has to be. Otherwise you could just ask Marlene to snog you.”

Remus makes a face. “She’s dating Dorcas, you know this.”

“No, no, he has a point,” Peter says. “Either of them would snog you if you said it was for a bet, especially if it means we,” he gestures to him, James and Sirius, “lose said bet.”

“Fine. Pick the girl. For the love of Godric, pick someone single and semi-tolerable.”

The boys scan the hall, not paying attention to house. Their eyes land on you. All three boys seemed to be in agreement before any of them voiced your name. 

“Her,” James says, pointing at you.

You were just as perpetually single as Remus, although he didn’t know what your reason for being so was. It wasn’t like boys never approached you, offering to pay for your drinks at Hogsmeade or to stand by you at the next Quidditch match, but the boys always walked away looking a bit down. You shot them down. Every single one of them.

So in the boys’ attempt to get him to prove his ability to charm a girl, they also wanted to see a miracle. From the grins on their faces, they know it’s going to be impossible.

“So you want my financial ruin?”

“I want either want butterbeer or you to get fucking laid,” Sirius says coolly. “It’s a win-win for me.”

“We said nothing about me getting laid!” Remus exclaims, panicking. “We said kiss, snog, neck, whatever you want to call it. Not laid.”

James laughs, “If you can get a snog out of her, you’re definitely getting laid.”

“I hate that I shook on this already,” Remus groans. He knows he has no way out of this now. 

---

You are blissfully unaware of the bet the Marauders have going. You have no reason to think that you are of any concern to them, besides that Remus now occasionally says hello to you in passing. If anything, it feels like the other three are purposefully avoiding you, not that that matters to you. It’s preferable that way. You had always found Remus to be the most tolerable of them, but that didn’t mean you were friends or spoke to him all that often. Right now, it meant that you said hi back to him.

You are studying in the library when Remus comes up and asks if you’d mind if he shared a table with you. There are other tables available, but you agree. You are struggling with your Transfiguration essay and if it comes to it, you’re almost positive you could ask him for help. Until then, you work near each other in silence. That is, until someone else joins your table. 

Andrew Lark, a boy in your house, sits across from you. 

“You going to Hogsmeade this weekend?” he asks. 

“No,” you say shortly, not looking up from your essay, although you do stop writing. You don’t want to write the wrong thing down because Andrew was talking.

“Do you want to? I’d love to take you.”

“No thank you, Andrew.”

“Come on, love. Let me take you out.”

“I have no desire to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, nor do I want to go out with you.”

“Baby, we’d have-” he starts to say.

“Lark, she said no,” Remus says calmly, having stopped working as soon as Andrew approached the table. 

Andrew shot Remus an annoyed look. “Wasn’t talking to you, Lupin.”

“I know. But you weren’t listening to her.”

“This doesn’t involve you.”

Remus scoffs. “You interrupted my studying by being here. I’d say I’m semi-involved.”

“Then sit elsewhere,” Andrew says, before turning back to you. “Last chance? It’d be more fun than you’re imagining.”

You give Remus a sideways glance. He’s looking at you, waiting for your response as much as Andrew is. 

“Surprise, surprise, Remus is right. I said no.” You give Remus a quick smile before turning back to your essay.

Andrew rolls his eyes and stands up. “Think about it, dove. My offer will always stand.”

Then he walks away. You and Remus both return to your silent working. You feel Remus’ eyes on you every once in a while; you can also tell he’s looking at you from when he pauses his writing, letting his quill just hover above the ink pot longer than a person normally would. 

“So what do you have against Hogsmeade?” he asks after a few minutes. 

You snort. “Oh, nothing really. Andrew’s been asking me to go with him for months and I’d really rather not go with him. Plus, Slughorn’s essay? Haven’t even started that.”

Remus nods with a breath of relief. “Good, I don’t know how anyone can actually not like Hogsmeade.” He pauses. “Would you like company when you work on that essay?”

The question catches you off guard. You look up at him and you’re sure the shock is evident on your face. 

“I, uh, can’t stop anyone from being in the library,” you say, feeling uncertain.

“Well, no,” he chuckles. “But if you’d rather work alone…”

You don’t respond right away; you’re considering it. Remus wasn’t a bother. You didn’t know why he would give up a Hogsmeade trip to be in the library with you though. You knew he usually accompanied his boisterous friends to the village.

“If it’s just you, I suppose company could be nice.” A small smile is playing at your lips in a way Remus has never seen before. “If you’re thinking of bringing the rest of your little gang with you, I’d rather you stay away then.”

Remus chuckles. “Those gits will be off in the village. Possibly pestering Lark.” He sends a wink your way.

You shake your head as you look back down at your essay, but there’s an undeniable smile on your face now. Remus sees it as a success. Maybe with a little persuading from him, the others would let Lark know he needed to back off of you and you’d be free from his pursuits. 

Come Saturday, you and Remus are back at the same table. Except he’s sitting across from you and reading as opposed to working on his own assignments.

Curious, you ask, “Weren’t you assigned this essay too?”

“Finished it.”

“And you don’t have anything else to work on?”

“No. That’s why I’m reading.” He flourishes his book for emphasis.

“So you gave up going to Hogsmeade for…” Your voice lilts like you’re asking a question.

“To keep you company while you work.”

“I work alone all the time. I’m usually more productive that way.”

“Maybe you just haven’t had company conducive to efficiency.”

“Who talks like that?” you laugh. “Company conducive to efficiency.”

Remus smiles at you and sets his book down. “I’m just saying! Some people are more of a distraction while others let you do your thing. James and Sirius? Distractions. Peter… He goes back and forth between the two.”

“And I suppose you’re conducive for them.”

“Most of the time. Others, I’m as bad as they are.”

He picks his book back up to continue reading and you return to your essay. The library is silent except for the scratching of your quill and the occasional turning of pages by Remus. You sneak a few glances at him when you finish a sentence or a paragraph, and you catch yourself full on staring at him when you finish. As you put your work away, you clear your throat to get his attention.

“I suppose you being here was conducive, but I feel bad that you didn’t go to Hogsmeade.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. Sometimes I need a break from certain people.”

“Then let me make it up to you. Let’s go to Hogsmeade together tomorrow.” You pause and blush at what you just said. “If you want to, of course, and don’t have anything else planned. I just thought that, because you didn’t go today and tomorrow will be less busy since everyone goes today.” You feel yourself rambling which makes you blush harder.

“Yeah, okay. That’d be nice. Meet you in the Great Hall after breakfast? Or lunch? I’m really okay with either.”

“I’m not a morning person,” you say with a chuckle. “We could get lunch in Hogsmeade?”

“Oh, okay. Then meet by the Grand Entrance around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan, Lupin. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you walk away from him, he can’t help but smile. This was going better than planned. He didn’t have to ask you out; you asked him. And all he had to do was not be forward about it with you. Now, he just had to work up to kissing you, and then snogging. 

You’re more nervous than you expected to be in the morning. You had never been on a date before, and you weren’t even sure if this would count as one. Your roommates were confused as to why you didn’t go to Hogsmeade yesterday with them but were going today.

“It’s just backwards!” one had tried to explain when they heard of your plan. “Everyone goes to Hogsmeade on Saturday and does homework on Sunday!”

“Which leads to Hogsmeade being packed and then the library being packed. It makes sense to go today.”

You purposefully left out that you were meeting Remus and going with him. Just as he hadn’t told his friends that he was making progress with you. For now, until something proper came out of it, this Hogsmeade visit would be something you shared only with each other.

Remus is waiting for you when you finally leave your dorm. The walk to Hogsmeade is quiet. It’s not awkward though. You’re glad he’s not trying to force conversation. You fear that would be more uncomfortable. 

“So where do you want to go first?” you ask as you arrive. 

“I don’t mind as long as we hit up Honeydukes and Three Broomsticks at some point,” he says with a shrug. 

You can’t help but think he looks a bit cute with his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“Start at Three Broomsticks then? Get our lunch and go from there?” you suggest. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

As expected, the pub isn’t too busy. You find a table and order food and butterbeers from Rosmerta. Then it’s just the two of you at a table. He asks about your essay that you were working on yesterday and if you think Slughorn will like it. He talks about his own. Conversation covers a lot of school, but then it drifts to your friends and Quidditch. And then to the Marauders and their pranks. Time flies by so quickly. Your plates are emptied quickly and you go through several mugs of butterbeer. You only notice how much time has gone by you glance out the window by chance and the sun is lower in the sky than you had expected.

“Oh! We need to get going if you still want to go to Honeydukes.”

Remus looks to the window and nods. “I didn’t realize the time…”

He waves down Rosmerta and hands her some galleons. You smack his shoulder gently as you exit the pub together. 

“You paid? I was the one who invited you to Hogsmeade. I should’ve paid.”

He rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t the guy on a date though?”

You blush, which in turn causes him to blush. So this was a date. And you had initiated.

“Let me pay for your chocolate at least.”

“Oh, don’t go down that road,” he says with a laugh and a wide smile. “You are underestimating how much chocolate I’ll be getting.”

“Galleons worth?” 

“Galleons worth.”

“Remus Lupin! That cannot be healthy!”

“‘S not my fault my stash gets raided constantly.”

You laugh. The air is light between you. He really does get several galleons worth of chocolate; you thought he was kidding. You insist on paying for part of it. The owners of Honeydukes patiently wait for you to leave the store before locking the door behind you. The sun is set by the time you’re walking back to Hogwarts. The crescent moon is high in the night sky, bathing the path back to school in a pale light.

When you reach the castle, still standing outside, you say, “This was fun. I’m glad I got to go to Hogsmeade.”

“I’m glad I got to go with you.”

You feel your face heat. The romantic in you tells you, no, begs you to kiss his cheek. Tell him he’s why it was so fun. Talking over butterbeers was your favorite way to pass time and you really enjoyed getting to know him better. But you weren’t so bold. 

“Goodnight Remus,” you say before heading inside. 

He stood outside for a few minutes longer. He should have kissed your cheek. He was kicking himself for not doing so. But that might have been too bold and risked scaring you off. It was probably for the best that he didn’t. He needed to work up to it. The boys were waiting for him when he returned to his dorm.

“Where have you been all day?” James asks accusingly as soon as Remus walks through the door.

“None of your business, Mum,” Remus says, tossing the Honeydukes bag on his bed.

“Honeydukes?” Peter asks, sitting up. “You went to Hogsmeade? Just now?”

“You went to Hogsmeade without us?” James asks, putting two and two together. 

“You went yesterday,” Remus reminds him.

“You chose to stay back. Why go today?”

“Because-” he starts to say.

“You’re working on the bet, aren’t you?” Sirius cuts him off. The smile Sirius was sporting said that he knew he was right.

“Yes.”

James and Peter gasp. Sirius grins wider.

“So you going to tell us how it’s going?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Peter asks with a pout forming on his face.

“You’ll just know when I succeed.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and laughs. “Must be going well if you’re still confident you’re going to succeed.”

---

“Andrew, for the love of Merlin, leave me alone,” you complain on your way to class.

Whatever the Marauders did to him at Hogsmeade wasn’t enough. He seemed more urgent than ever to take you on a date, even with you telling him that you weren’t interested in him in the slightest. He stands in the doorway to your class, which he isn’t in.

“Come on, just one date. It’ll be the best one you’ve ever been on!”

Remus looks up from his conversation with the boys at his desk at Andrew’s voice. He hears you groan.

“Let me into my class!”

Remus is there in a moment. 

“Lark, let the lady through,” Remus says firmly.

Andrew spins around in the doorway, still blocking it but now looking at Remus. 

“Little Lupin to the rescue? You fancy her or something?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Remus answers, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Now let her through. I think she’s made her opinions of you quite clear.”

Andrew glances at you over his shoulder. 

“Hear that, dove? Lupin likes you.”

“I’d hope so. We went on a date.”

Andrew’s arms fall so he’s not blocking the door as well and Remus pulls you through, which makes Andrew stumble slightly out of the way.

“What do you mean you went on a date?” Andrew asks indignantly. “A date? An actual date? With him?”

“That’s what I said. Care to confirm?” you ask, looking up at Remus, who is still holding your arm.

“Yeah. It was quite lovely. She’s quite lovely.” He looks down at you with a soft smile. 

Then without thinking, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Andrew looks ready to scream and a few hollers erupt from behind you. You scan the room for the source. The Marauders. You’re not too surprised at that. Of course Remus’ friends would be watching him as he came to play hero. It’s less than thirty seconds, but by the time you look back over to the door, Andrew has vanished.

“Thanks, Remus,” you breathe.

“Maybe he’ll finally leave you alone, huh?”

“Hope so.”

He walks you to your desk before returning to his own, where James pats him enthusiastically on the back. Throughout the entire lesson, you two are looking over at each other. Most of the time, when one is looking, the other isn’t. You only make eye contact with him once all lesson, which caused both of you to turn a deep shade of crimson. 

By the end of the week, Andrew stops asking you out on the daily and appears to be purposefully avoiding you and Remus. You find ways to spend more time with him, scheduling study time in the library and comparing schedules so that you can walk to your classes together. You even join him and his friends for lunch every few days. They were rather shocked the first time, but quickly turned into a welcoming group. 

It became obvious to those around you that you were seeing Remus. It came as a surprise to many people, including your friends. 

“What do you mean you’re dating Remus Lupin? When do you talk to him?”

“What do you mean you went to Hogsmeade with him? Alone?”

“When did this happen and why didn’t we know about it?”

Excuses of minding your own business and not wanting to count your chickens before they hatched echoed in your dorm. It really had come out of nowhere, but you suppose it was because Remus pursued you in a way that no one else had. He wasn’t putting you on the spot to do the things he wanted and disrupting you when you were clearly busy. He liked to be in your presence and took your opinion into consideration before suggesting things. Even better, he put Andrew Lark in his place. 

You were headed to your usual table to meet Remus for a study session; you refused to call them study dates because you knew your mind would say that you can’t be productive on a date. You laugh at your thoughts: dates are not conducive for studying. You hear Remus’ voice as you walk through the shelves, collecting some books you know you need for your Herbology assignment. You stop mid-step when you hear additional voices at your table.

“Have you snogged her yet, Moony?” Sirius asks.

“No, not yet,” he answers with a sigh. 

Not yet. You smile.

“Well, could you get on with it? You’ve been spending so much time with her. We need you for this prank.”

“You were the one to suggest the bet. Sorry I’m taking my time.”

“But you’re going to break up with her once you do, right?” Peter asks. “Complete the bet and get out before you catch feelings. That was the point of this.”

You bite your lip, hoping that somehow this wasn’t about you, that maybe Remus had a voice twin and they were talking about the other boy’s girl. You knew that it wasn’t possible, but you had to hope for a moment. But then James spoke. 

“Even better, you got Lark off her back so she owes you. She owes you a snog and then you’re free. You’ll have gotten your kiss, Casanova.”

Lark. He had only been after you for a while. And Remus had been the reason he was leaving you alone. 

You leave your hiding place within the books, stepping into their line of sight. Remus’ eyes go wide as he sees you. His heart breaks when he sees the tears in your eyes. You had heard and he knew it. 

You lock eyes with him and you shake your head. Holding the books close to your chest, you turn to leave the library. How could you work with someone who was only with you to snog you for a bet? A damn bet? 

You ignore Remus calling after you. You don’t break into a run; you have too many books in your arms to run, but you’re walking as quickly as you can. From the sound of his footsteps, he is running. Running and calling your name, saying it isn’t what you think. That the boys don’t know what they are talking about. You spin on the spot to glare at him through tears when he finally catches up to you and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Did you or did you not ask to sit at my table in the library because of, of, of that bet?” you spit. It comes out harsh. It was supposed to. You were angry and upset.

“I did, but-”

“There’s no buts about this, Remus,” you say firmly. You’re firm but your voice is laced with sadness and uncertainty. “All of this was because of a bet. And I’m not a bet. So yeah. Go fuck yourself.”

You leave him standing in the corridor. He could’ve followed you. Some part of him knew he should have so that he could explain. 

---

You avoid Remus at all costs. He tries to hunt you down in the library, in between classes, in the Great Hall. He’s even taken to sitting outside your dorm. Your roommates step around him, muttering insults. He doesn’t blame them. If it had been anyone else doing this, he would be saying the same insults under his breath to Sirius, James and Peter. He hated himself for agreeing to the stupid bet in the first place. He should have just gone after you on his own terms. 

About a week later, you spent all day studying in the library and you were honestly surprised that Remus didn’t show up once. You missed dinner, but you didn’t mind. If you had gone to dinner, you might have run into Remus and if you were safe in the library, you were staying there until you went to bed. Except you ran into Remus while trying to go to bed. He was asleep outside your dorm’s door. You knew you should’ve just gone into your dorm and ignored him, but you were a good person and wouldn’t let him sleep like that all night. You nudge his side gently with your foot.

“Lupin,” you say softly. “Lupin, wake up.”

He stirs, rubbing his eyes. When he sees that you’re the one who woke up and not some disgruntled prefect, he jumps to his feet and hugs you. You make a startled noise at the hug.

“Please, let me explain,” he whispers.

“You have five minutes. Then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, thank you,” he says quickly. “Thank you. Okay, so yes, it did start as a bet.”

You groan and reach for the doorknob. He puts his hand on top of yours to stop it from turning. 

“I have four minutes and thirty seconds,” he says, causing you to roll your eyes. “A bet that I couldn’t get a girl and snog her. I accepted because Sirius was being rude. Stupid, I know. But please, please, please believe me when I say the bet stopped being relevant the moment you agreed that I could keep you company in the library while you worked on your Potions essay. I wasn’t doing it just to snog you and prove to the boys that I really could get a girl.”

“And I should believe you because?”

“Because if it was just for a bet, I would’ve kissed you when we got back from Hogsmeade the first time. I would’ve snogged you in front of Andrew and the boys. Just to prove that I could do it. I would’ve been done.” He pauses, trying to read the expression on your face. “I’ve been spending so much time with you because I genuinely like you so much. I like being your boyfriend. I like being around you. I like making you smile. I like making you laugh. Yes, I’d like to snog you very much. But not for a bet. I want to snog you to feel your lips against mine. I like studying with you, I like paying for your butterbeers. I like walking around with you. I like when you hang out with my friends. I’d like to hang out with your friends.” 

He pauses his ramblings to catch his breath briefly.

“That is, if you’ll forgive me for even partaking in this stupid goddamn bet. And you somehow convince your friends to forgive me too.”

You cross your arms and lean against the doorframe. You take in Remus’ appearance. You’re used to him looking perpetually tired, but he looks exhausted, so much worse for wear than usual. His hair is a mess and clothes uncharacteristically rumpled. His expression is so genuine and sad, practically begging you to understand how much he cares for you.  

“Please. I know you’re more than a bet. So much more. The only good thing about the bet is that it actually got me to get close to you.”

“I’ll forgive you under one condition,” you say.

His face lights up and he takes a step toward you. 

“Anything. You name it and it’s done.”

You smirk. “When you do snog me, please do it in front of Lark. A little revenge on that sorry bastard.”

Remus smiles widely and nods. Then he places a gentle kiss on your lips. It only lasts a second, over as soon as it began. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He gives you an identical kiss. “One snog in front of Lark coming up.”

[landojpg04]

Snakebite || (Peacekeeper) Coriolanus Snow x Reader ||

Outline: Coriolanus has his eye on the new nurse of the caserne and he’d do anything to have her.

Word count: 5’593

Warnings: Peacekeeper Coryo is a warning in itself, blood, virgin/first time sex (and it’s not gentle), breeding/marking, pain, possessive behavior, rough sex, explicit smut.

Author’s note: If you’ve read my other stories, you know my way of writing peacekeeper Coryo is pretty wild. If not, please take the warnings seriously before reading this one. This is prompt # 4. (sorry I didn’t feel like writing another arranged marriage one for now but I hope this will be good enough.)

“Good to see you back on your feet !” Smiley said, as a greeting when Beanpole entered the cafeteria and joined them at their table.

“We were worried, you hit your head pretty badly on the ground when you fainted today.” Bug added.

Coriolanus watched as his comrade took place in front of him, his tray overly filled with an array of different foods. He was still pale and had a bruise on his forehead from where he had hit the ground but despite all that, he seemed happy. So happy in fact, that Coriolanus wondered if they had drugged him at the infirmary to put him in such a state.

“I’m honestly starting to wonder if you don’t do that on purpose each time we train outside, just so the new nurse gets to take care of you.”

“There’s a new nurse ?” Coriolanus inquired, his curiosity piqued by something finally remotely interesting.

“I think she’s an apprentice.” Beanpole corrected.

“Didn’t you notice the amount of guys lining up in front of the infirmary door these days ? I heard everyone talk about how beautiful that girl is.” Smiley added.

Coriolanus thought about it for a moment but couldn’t really recall noticing anything out of the ordinary. Not that he paid much attention to life in the barracks anyway. Or in District 12 in general. He missed the Capitol and his thoughts often drifted back to his old life rather than focusing on his current situation.

“She really is beautiful.” Beanpole commented, to answer Smiley, with a stupid smile on his face. He may as well have heart shaped eyes from how obvious his crush on the girl in question was.

The other soldiers at the table laughed of their friend’s amorous daze and everyone soon focused their attention back on their meal, knowing that they needed to gain some strength for what the commander had planned for them on the next day.

Smiley and Bug stood up as soon as their trays were empty, but Coriolanus lingered a moment at the table, watching Beanpole stuff his face with green beans and spinach leaves. He wondered how someone who lacked basic knowledge of table etiquette could be from the Capitol too. People there, even poor, were more refined and elegant usually. Was District 12 slowly turning him into some kind of feral animal ? What if it was happening to Coriolanus too ? What if he didn’t remember how to behave properly once he’ll be back in the Capitol ? The thought terrified him, the one thing he had promised himself was that he refused to let District 12 change him.

“Crap, I forgot to ask for painkillers.” Beanpole managed to say, despite his still full mouth.

“Didn’t you have a whole tablet of those in your trunk from the last time you hit your head against a tree ?” Coriolanus asked him, unable to conceal his sucpicious tone. He was wondering if, indeed, the young soldier was faking being of such fragile composure and in weak condition just to be granted extra trips to the nurse’s office. Not that he cared about his friend’s whereabouts, he just cared to know if Beanpole was this good of an actor, able to hurt himself just to get something he wanted.

“I used a few after I burned my fingers when I was on cooking duty and sold the rest on the black market.” He answered, totally and foolishly honest with Coriolanus. He attempted to stand up, his tray still half full but almost lost balance, barely able to catch himself.

“Are you alright ?” Coriolanus asked him, standing up to help steady him, even though he really didn’t want to.

“Yeah, it’s just the concussion.” Beanpole assured him. “I need to go back for some pills and then I’ll go to bed.”

“I’ll walk you there.” He offered, not out of the goodness of his heart but by sheer curiosity for the apparently very pleasant new nurse. He wanted to judge for himself, even though he didn’t expect her to be anything special, his comrades were so sex deprived that their standard barely reached the floor.

With a hand gripping his arm to help him walk steadily, the two peacekeepers made their way to the infirmary, Coriolanus almost dragging Beanpole behind him from how impatient he was to see what was really going on there.

At first glance, it seemed that Smiley told the truth, there were a line of more or less injured soldiers waiting for their turn behind the door, even skipping supper in hopes to be cared for here.

“It might take a while.” Beanpole sighed, ready to join the back of the line.

The door opened and a peacekeeper walked out with his arm in a cast, his face visibly upset but not because of the pain he had endured but because he was escorted out by Flavia, the old nurse instead of the new one. She gestured to the next man in line to enter her office and he shamelessly sighed in disappointment.

Beanpole and Coriolanus barely had time to take a step in direction of the end of the line when the door in front of them opened again, revealing you, wearing a white blouse and your hair tied up in a messy updo.

“Next please !” You called, and a soldier excitedly sauntered in your direction. But your gaze landed on Coriolanus for an instant, before noticing Beanpole leaning onto him for support. “Oh, is the concussion getting worse ?”

Coriolanus had to admit that you were very pretty indeed. Even with the worry that suddenly appeared on your face, you reminded him of the expensive dolls Tigris used to play dress up and hold tea parties for.

“I just need something for the pain.” Beanpole told you, trying to sound self assured but the sight of you made him smile stupidly again.

“He’s barely able to stand.” Coriolanus said because, as time went by, he kept leaning his weight more and more on him and at this point, he was starting to worry that he might have to carry him back to their dorm.

“Come in.” You said, standing aside to let them in the infirmary. There were a few whispers of indignation and protest as they passed by the line of eager soldiers, the one who almost got in taking his place back at the front while glaring daggers at them.

Coriolanus helped Beanpole to the bed placed in the middle of a small room, of which you closed the door and searched a shelf for a file, before stepping to the counter to retrieve some medical tools. He watched you as you carefully shone a light into Beanpole’s eyes, observing his pupils with attention before turning the small flashlight off and on in his face. You scribbled something in the file you had placed on the bed next to him, and exchanged the light for a stethoscope.

As you leaned forward slightly to reach his heart, your blouse hunched up, revealing some of the curves of your body to Coriolanus, who had a very privileged view of it all as he leaned against the wall behind you, his arms crossed over his chest.

He observed you carefully, starting to understand why all the young soldiers in the building were interested in you. There was something about you that was particularly enticing, maybe it was the alluring curves of your body, or maybe it was your pretty face and the way you made sure to be gentle as you examined your patients ? Whatever it was, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to forget it. And, as you turned around to take one more tool from the counter, you glanced at him in a way that made his whole body buzz with electricity, he could tell that you were disturbed by him, by his presence and by his appearance, the same hint of curiosity in your eyes than the one he felt for you.

————-

The sun was shining bright in the sky, yet it still did very little to ease the humidity that saturated the air. Coriolanus was assigned to patrol the borders of the District in the heat, while forced to wear his peacekeeper uniform and helmet, hand on his gun, always prepared. However, for once, it didn’t seem so bad. He knew that if he had a heatstroke and fainted, he might have the chance to see you again and the idea oddly excited him.

Actually, he had been thinking about you for most of the night, reminiscing of the perfection of your body underneath your white blouse and how you had looked at him, even smiled at him once when you had cleared Beanpole to go back to his dorm. He had seen with his own eyes the impressive amount of soldiers lining up by the door with the hope to spend a few minutes in your company and, this morning during breakfast, he had heard a group of them talking about how each of them was planning to attempt to ask you out before the weekend. You truly were the talk of the caserne.

He didn’t like that you had so many admirers, but what claim did he have on you ? He hadn’t even spoke more than a few words to you… And yet, he felt extremely possessive of you. Like you were some kind of precious treasure that should only belong to him. And maybe he had good chances to make everyone else jealous if he convinced you to give yourself to him, judging by the way you had looked at him, all he had to do was ask…

And, just for the sake of not waking up with a very painful and frustrating erection again - after dreaming of you, naked on your exam table for him - he was determined to shoot his shot at you. He knew it only was a matter of time until you’d agree to go out with one of the idiots who probably pestered you about it on a daily basis, so he had to act quickly.

He wasn’t sure of how he could fake a convincing heatstroke. And if he pretended to have fainted, he might stay there on his own all day until someone eventually found him and helped him. So he needed a better idea, something that wouldn’t require him too much theatrics to be convincing. In fact, being in real pain would probably help to coerce you into taking care of him before everyone else.

His fingers danced on the handle of his gun as he tried to imagine how bad the pain could get if he shot himself in the foot or in the knee. It would make him a pretty useless peacekeeper which might grant him a few weeks of forced vacation to recover but he was worried of where he might be sent to next if he wasn’t fit to be a soldier anymore…

He looked around him, seeing nothing but tall grass swaying in the wind and a rocky dirt road leading to a row of delabrated shacks that people from this District called homes. Not much to help with his plan.

Suddenly, something slowly undulating further down the road, moving the peebles on its way caught his attention. He approached carefully, realizing that it was a green snake trying to go back to the tall grass that it could use as shelter.

Coriolanus didn’t know much about snakes. Actually, his knowledge in the matter was so limited that he never would be able to tell the difference between a venomous snake and an inoffensive one. However, it seemed to him that this one was very similar to the one that had bit another peacekeeper’s ankle when they were running laps around the barracks. As far as he knew, the guy was still alive so it might be his best chance to get to see you again.

He kneeled down on the road and tugged the sleeve of his shirt up, offering his entire arm for the nervous snake to bite into. But it wasn’t aggressive enough to gratuitously attack a human being it seemed so Coriolanus picked the reptile up, feeling the cold scales under his fingertips before letting it fall on his bare arm. Nothing happened, except that the animal was now terrified and tried to slither away in the grass, at a surprisingly fast speed.

He barely managed to catch it before it vanished in the grass the same color as it was. He pulled it back to him and the reptile’s head snapped back to dig its sharp fangs inside the soldier’s exposed wrist.

Coriolanus grimaced, immediately pulling on the snake until he was able to pull his fangs out of his skin. He sent it flying across the road, not seeing where it landed as he focused his attention on his now aching wrist and the two dots of blood rapidly bubbling at the surface of his skin.

“Shit.” He breathed, the pain in his arm sharply stinging. It was almost as if he could feel the venom, slowly invading the blood in his veins.

He stood up, applying pressure to the bite so that he wouldn’t bleed too much despite the pain it provoked, and took off in direction of the casern. He was hoping that his plan would work and that he wouldn’t end up being treated by Flavia instead of you but, above all things, he hoped that he wouldn’t die from such a stupid action. You may be absolutely gorgeous but he wasn’t ready to die for that. Not yet.

When he knocked on the infirmary door, blatantly ignoring the queue in front of it, his main concern became reality as Flavia opened. The old nurse’s gaze was strict and unwelcoming, the polar opposite of your warmth and beauty.

“Another heatstroke ? Go wait in line for your turn.” She said, authoritatively.

“No, I was bitten.” He told her, showing her the mark on his now inflamed skin. Even if he was hoping to see you, his bite still needed urgent medical attention and he wasn’t sure he would survive if he had to wait in line before treating it.

Thankfully, as if on cue, your face appeared behind Flavia, eyes wide in surprise.

“I can take care of that, I just finished treating Armstrong’s heat rash.” You suggested and he could tell that you were hoping to see him as badly as he was hoping to see you.

“Alright. I was planning on taking a coffee break after this one, anyway.” Flavia nodded, before disappearing in her own office where a distressed soldier waited for her.

Coriolanus followed into the room where you had taken care of Beanpole the day before, but this time it was his turn to sit on the examination table. You repeated the same gestures as he had observed last time, fetching his file from the overflowing shelf before approaching to examinate his bite.

“Did you see what the snake that bit you looked like ?” You asked, as you ran your gloved fingers over the two deep holes in his skin. He noticed the worry that instantly showed on your face, making him wonder if you truly cared this much about your patients.

“It was green, and pretty small.” He recalled, momentarily forgetting about the pain in his arm because of how close you were to him. He could smell your perfume and see the subtle variations of the specks of color in your eyes from here.

“Mmh, I don’t think it’s a venomous one but it’s probably going to hurt for a few days.” You announced, going back to the counter to take a small glass jar in your hands. Then, you carefully applied an herbal salve to his wound, instantly giving him some relief from the stinging pain that lingered there. “But I only have one jar of this salve so you’ll have to come here so I can apply some to the wound and change the bandages every day.”

“Alright.” He answered, struggling to contain his excitement at your words.

You gently wrapped his wrist up in an immaculately white bandage, soothing the last bit of pain he still felt from the bite. He saw it as the perfect opportunity to ask you what every soldier in this building was dying to.

“I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink with me sometime ?” He suggested, trying to sound as confident as he usually was but his heart was racing in his chest.

You lifted your eyes up to meet his, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“That sounds nice but unfortunately I’m not allowed to do that. The only time I can be seen with peacekeepers without risking my job is here, in the infirmary.” You replied and he silently stared at you for a moment, trying to determine if it was an excuse or if you really would have accepted if your position allowed you to. “But maybe you could spend more time here ? With me ?”

Your voice was hesitant and a lovely blush creeped to your cheeks as you said that, a risk you seemingly were ready to take for him.

“I could.” He smiled, charming as ever. “But how would we pass the time ?”

“Maybe we could get to know each other ?”

His smile grew wider as the vivid images of last night’s dream filled his mind again, visions of you naked for him, begging for his dick, that he was determined to make come true right now. He stood up, stepping closer to you, his hands already tugging at your blouse to get it to slide down your arms.

“I’d love to get to know you more… Intimately.” He whispered, his lips brushing over yours. And, since you didn’t step back or push him away, he finally pressed his mouth to yours, in a chaste kiss that still managed to get his whole body buzzing with adrenaline.

Your professional blouse dropped to the floor and his arms closed around your waist, pulling you into him, where you could very obviously feel the hard bulge that had formed in his pants pressing against your stomach.

His lips moved to your neck, peppering it with wet kisses as he eagerly tried to find the hem of your shirt so that he could pull it off of you and see what was hidden underneath. You let him, even though your heart was about to implode inside of your chest.

He only stopped kissing you to be able to take a good look at your now bare chest in front of him, the sight worth a thousand snake bites.

“Oh gosh.” You whimpered, as he roughly squeezed your boob in his hand, taking a bite at your lower lip to shut you up because you could say anything else.

He probably should have taken his time to enjoy every inch of you as he uncovered them one by one, giving attention to your very appetizing breast before attempting to remove your pants but he was never one to be patient, nor could he possibly renounce to something that he so ardently desired.

“Wait, wait.” You pleaded against his mouth, your hands on his chest to gently push him away but even like this, he had trouble to let go of you.

“What’s wrong ?”

“It’s just that… I wasn’t expecting this. I… I never did this before.” You stuttered, your eyes fixed to his with a bit of panic on your face.

“Well, it’s not that uncomfortable in here.” He remarked, briefly looking around before focusing his attention back to you. You were shorter than him and almost naked, chest bare and pants tugged down to your thighs. All he had to do was reach between your legs and he’d be able to catch a feel of your panties, see if you were already wet for him or if he’d have to work for it. As for him, he was already rock hard, his cock begging to be released out of his pants so that it could be shoved inside you. But he enjoyed being in his uniform in front of you, while you were about to be naked and vulnerable, at his entire mercy…

“No, I mean… I never did it” Your words had the effect of a cold shower over his head, pulling him out of his hungry contemplation of your body and getting his full attention on you. For the second time, he stared at you while trying to decide if he believed you or not, the idea of you still being a virgin making no sense in his mind, how could you be ? You were far too gorgeous to not have had many opportunities to lose your virginity to someone in the past, even here, soldiers lined up at your door every day, desperate for your attention. Surely one of them would have convinced you to do it by now. Or at least, if you were so concerned about the rules, some coal miner from your district or a free spirited muscician would have done it.

“You… How come ?” Was all he managed to say, the question burning his lips since it seemed entirely impossible to him that you’d still be so innocent and unaware of the pleasure you were missing out on.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t interested enough in anyone to go this far…”

Coriolanus couldn’t help but smile at your answer. He felt insanely pleased imagining you refusing all these filthy miners and weak soldiers. You had standards. And you definitely were the only person that he had met in District 12 who was this reasonable.

“I can show you what it’s like if you want me to.” He suggested, trying to sound detached but the idea of being the one to take your virginity, the one to corrupt your innocent body, was making his cock ache in his pants.

You seemed hesitant, looking around at the office. He could understand that it probably wasn’t how you had imagined your first time would happen, not here, not with him. Yet, when your pretty eyes landed on him again, you quietly nodded.

He had to be cool about, appear as if it was a regular thing for him, like he had done it before many times and would be doing it again with other girls, but his blood was boiling with excitement. When he had asked you out for a drink, he was expecting to have to work for it. He would have been proud of being seen with you at The Hob by all the recruits lining up for your attention, and he would have made sure to charm you into taking things further, probably in a dark alley outside where no one would have seen your perfect body except for him, but where surely some people would have heard how good he was making you feel.

Unable to wait any longer, he reached down to open up his pants and free his hard erection from his underwear, stroking it in his hand, enough to get it to develop to its full length but not too much, in case he might cum just from the way you were staring at it, with wide eyes and shock on your face.

“You’re so big, I’m not sure I’ll be able to do this.” You told him, worried.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to take it.” He assured you, with a proud smile on his face. He always liked when women noticed how well endowed he was. Even better when it made them nervous. “Sit down on the table.”

You obeyed, even though you still seemed very uncertain. He pulled your pants and panties down your legs, discarding them on the floor so that you really were completely naked now, beautiful and vulnerable.

“Maybe it’ll work if you enter just the tip.” You suggested, and an amused chuckle left his lips.

“Alright.” He agreed, but only to reassure you. He had no intention of depriving the rest of his length from entering you so you would have to take it fully eventually.

“Okay.” You sighed in relief but your body remained tense as he approached and forced your legs open. He held his cock in his hand and gently stroked your exposed folds with the tip, groaning from the pleasant warmth and wetness that instantly coated his sensitive skin.

He knew he should have been a gentleman about this and made sure that you were ready for him but he simply couldn’t wait. His desire for you was consuming him, he needed to have you and that instantly made him forget how cautious he should be to make sure the experience would be enjoyable for you too. So he lined himself up to your entrance and pushed forward.

“Just the tip.” You reminded him, your entrance stretching out for his wide dick, causing a sharp burn in your lower stomach.

“Right.” He said, with a smile, as he kept increasing the pressure that already felt unbearable inside you, very slowly but surely pressing his hips further against you.

“That’s too much.” You cried out, tears welling in your eyes.

“You can take it.” He said again, because one way or another, he was going to break that dam inside you and then, he’ll fuck you until he’ll be close enough to mark you as his with his cum.

“No, I really can’t.” You replied, your voice breaking. Coriolanus felt a pang of guilt in front of your distress, the grimace of pain on your face and the tears silently rolling down your cheeks weren’t exactly what he had imagined when he had fantasized about taking you on this examination table.

“Just try to relax.” He instructed, momentarily putting his eagerness and need for relief aside to focus on you. He pressed his hand between your legs, his thumb finding your sensitive spot and gently massaging it to ease you into it, mixing the pain of his intrusion inside you with the pleasure of his caresses.

With two fingers, he opened up your folds so that he could see his big cock shoved halfway inside your tight and aching pussy. He could see it sliding further inside inch by inch, his way of teasing your clit seemingly helping your body accept him.

And then, suddenly and without any warning, your pussy engulfed him. You cried out once more, as something inside you was teared apart to allow him to finally be completely buried in your tight warmth. Your arms instantly closing around his neck for support. He almost came from this alone, the force with which you clenched around him from the pain you felt almost making him dizzy.

“What’s going on ?” You asked, panicking. “Why did that hurt so bad ?”

“Your pussy just swallowed my cock on its own accord. Because despite the pain, you want me to fuck you, right ?” You want to feel me inside you, want me to show you what real pleasure is.” He explained, breathless, doing his best to calm down before his ejaculation might end this all too soon. “Say it, tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel you…” You told him, wincing when he started pulling away.

“And ?”

“I want to have an orgasm. I want to be fucked until you have one too.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, realizing that his plan to calm himself down by getting you to talk to him was failing miserably. He almost entirely pulled his cock out of you, only to shove it back inside slowly. As eager as he was for relief, he now wanted you to enjoy it too.

The more he gently slided back and forth inside you, the more your face eased back into a peaceful expression, the pain visibly fading as he tried his best to replace it with pleasure.

“Look how well you’re taking me now.” He told you, and you both looked down to his impressive cock, his length coated in your arousal and faint traces of blood as it went back and forth at a peacefully steady rythym. As tight as your entrance was, he still fitted inside you, managing to hit deep.

“Am I bleeding ?”

“Yes, but that’s normal, that’s how we know you’re no longer a virgin.” He explained, even if you probably knew that already.

“Is it going to be like this every time ?”

“No, now that I broke you in, you’re going to enjoy it when someone fucks you like this. You’ll be able to take it fast and rough with a little bit of practice.”

“Is this how you like it ? Fast and rough ?” You asked him, curious.

“Most people do.”

“Will you help me get used to it then ?”

“I already am, sweetheart.” He replied, his hands gripping your thighs to bring them up against his hips and give him better access to you. His movements amplified as his rocked his hips more rapidly now and you pressed your forehead against his, still fascinated by the way you could see his hard cock disappearing inside your folds and slamming deep inside you.

You closed your eyes, feeling something powerful building inside of you. A loud sound that carried the whole intensity of the pleasure that he was giving you escaped your lips. Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with your hand, embarassed.

“Don’t, I want to hear you.” He told you, moving your hand away and pinning your wrist to the table. “And I want everyone outside to hear you too. Let them know I’m the one taking your virginity.”

“But… Flavia.” You warned him, breathlessly.

“She said she was going to take a break, she’s probably at the cafeteria.” He replied, trying to reassure you but in reality, he had no idea of what the other nurse was up to. He knew that you were risking your career if you got caught by anyone in such a compromising position but it didn’t really matter to him, not now, because he was pretty sure that if anyone bursted inside the room in hopes to interrupted him, he’d still keep fucking you until you truly belonged to him. Now that he had started, nobody would be able to stop him.

You didn’t object. You couldn’t. He could tell from the way you arched your back and rolled your eyes that there wasn’t a single reasonable thought in your head anymore. You needed relief as badly as he needed it too and that was exactly what he intended to give you.

“Oh… It’s starting to feel really good.” You panted, your nails digging in his shoulder to steady yourself as his thrusts grew a bit more brutal.

“Good.” He groaned, making sure to slam himself as deeply as he could inside you. Damnit you felt too good, he wasn’t going to be able to restrain himself much longer, the tightness of your virgin pussy around him and the knowledge that he was the first one to ever penetrate you so deeply was too much and relief instantly washed over him as warm cum spilled from his cock into you.

Fuck.

“Oh !” You exclaimed in surprise, not because he had climaxed without giving you a warning but because his twitching cock unexpectedly pushed you over the edge too. You were shocked by the strength of the orgasm that hit you, imploding in your core like a firework and washing over your entire body, ensnaring him inside you in reaction.

You moaned again, the pressure around him caused by your own climax felt unbearable. He was trapped in you and the contractions of your body were so intense that he groaned and felt his cock shoot another load of his seed inside you.

A moment went by during which only the sound of your panting breaths filled the room. Then, you relaxed and he was able to pull himself out, both of you watching as his soaked length dropped out of you. He adjusted his uniform, making sure he was presentable again as you did the same, putting your white blouse back on as if nothing had happened.

“I… I’ll need to take care of that bite again tomorrow.” You told him, still a bit breathless as you walked him to the door.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” He promised, with a grin.

Everyone stared at him as he walked out of the office. He smugly smiled at the line of soldiers and stood straighter, feeling extremely proud of himself. Not only had he managed to fuck the new nurse everyone was after but he had also taken your virginity and marked you as his. Of course, the soldiers waiting in line had no way of knowing that your blood was still on his cock and that his cum was probably dripping down in your panties by now but, if they were observant enough, they might notice how you were leaning against the door for support because your body was sore, or the trace of faint lipstick you had left on the collar of his peacekeeper uniform.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[landojpg04]

► THG P Links

NSFW | Minors Do Not Interact

All links are from twitter! i have compiled a list of links that anons have sent me + some that i have found for you guys to enjoy! this list will be updated frequently.

► Coriolanus Snow

• politician coryo relieving his stress

• riding drug dealer coryo in his car

• academy coryo and innocent reader

• breeding & overstimulation with university coryo

• post peacekeeper coryo x you

• politician coryo punishing you

• riding coryo’s cock while sej games

• riding best friend coryo

• riding coryo

► Sejanus Plinth

• sej desperately fucking reader

• breeding kink w sej

• soft dom sej teasing you

• district men do it better

• soft & sensual sex with sej

• sej fucking you hard and fast

• taking control

• sej eating you out

► Finnick Odair

• mutual masturbation with finnick

• riding finnick

• finnick fingering you

• finnick worshipping you

[landojpg04]

Let’s be Honest

Simon Riley (Bodyguard) x Reader!!

(mdni 18+)

Your father is an undercover investigator working a dangerous case on a human trafficking ring. Unfortunately, they somehow discovered his intentions, and now they're out for revenge. So, they’ve put a bounty on your head, claiming you’re worth millions to whoever is able to find you and sell you to the best bidder. Despite the danger, your father can’t abandon his mission as there were other lives on the line. He’s too close to cracking the case, rescuing the victims. To protect you, he hired someone no one would see coming for them and that was going to be protecting you. He hired a Ghost.

————————————————————————————

The moment you saw the brute, you couldn’t believe it. This 6’3”, 220lb, constantly masked man was supposed to be by your side for who knows how long. The sheer size of him was intimidating enough, but the mask? It kept you wondering what kind of man was beneath it.

You couldn’t argue with your father, though. He wanted you safe, and you weren’t about to be taken and sold off to some creep. So, you dealt with it. But now it’s been two months too long. Two damn months of constant monitoring, endless rules, and the same warnings: 'You need to listen to me Y/n,' 'Stay by my side,' or ‘It’s not safe.' It was honestly getting sickening at the fact he had complete control over your day to day life now.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I was thinking of going shopping today, get some fresh air,” you say, taking a bite of your breakfast. He stands near the window, eyes scanning the street outside like he always does. “Maybe,” he says, his voice low, almost disinterested. You roll your eyes. “Jesus Christ, why not? It’s just us walking down the street, Simon.”

You started using his real name after weeks of pestering him to tell you. It felt weird calling him “Ghost” all the time—like something out of a video game. What good was being around someone this long if you didn’t even know their name?

He glances back at you, his expression unreadable behind the mask—if there’s an expression at all. Then, just as silently, he turns back to the window. “You never know.” You put your fork down and stop eating, “Simon, I can’t keep going days without stepping foot outside, i’m literally going insane”, he steps away from the window and pulls a chair out to sit beside you. “Everything I do and everything I say is to protect you, that is the whole reason I am here”. you looked into his hauntingly dead eyes. “Please you can’t keep me trapped in these walls”. You say with hesitation in your voice wondering if this will be another useless plea to let him agree for you to get out the house. He paused for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. You smile, “oh my gosh really? we can go?!” you say quickly standing from your chair in excitement. “yes. but the moment I feel something is off we leave, immediately” he says sternly. You were already putting your plate away and running to your room to get ready.

You visited a few of your favorite stores near your house, picking up small items here and there. Simon stayed close, as usual, walking silently beside you. As you stepped out of another shop, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We’re going to one more store, then we’re heading home. Do you understand?” You shot him a side-eye but nodded, not in the mood for another argument.

The last stop was the lingerie shop—you had been eyeing their new fall line for weeks. You grabbed a few panties and bras before something else caught your eye: the most stunning, sexy set you’d ever seen. You had to try it on. Walking into the dressing room, you slipped out of your clothes and into the delicate lace set. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin. You peeked your head out, only seeing Simon waiting, his posture as stoic as ever. You stepped out to check yourself in the mirror, admiring the way the set hugged your curves. From the corner of his eye, Simon caught sight of you. His jaw clenched almost immediately as he tried to keep his focus elsewhere, but it was impossible. He’d been around you every day for two months, and he had seen plenty—your tight shirts with no bra, shorts that barely covered anything. He’d always kept his cool, reminding himself that you were off-limits, and he took care of himself whenever you were asleep or when he took a shower. But seeing you now, in something so revealing, stirred something deeper in him that made his jeans tighten. He forced himself to remain still, but the tension in his body betrayed his thoughts. Respect for your father, the job—those were the only things keeping him from acting on what he felt. And he had to keep it that way, or at least he was trying to.

You caught Simon’s gaze in the mirror, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. His eyes were unreadable behind the mask, but you could feel something he wasn’t saying. You quickly looked away, clearing your throat. “What do you think?” you asked casually, but your pulse quickened. You didn’t know why you even asked—it wasn’t like you cared what he thought about lingerie. Or did you?

He blinked, caught off guard. “About what?”

“The lingerie,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I thought I’d get a professional opinion.” His jaw tightened more, but you caught the flicker of something in his eyes. “You don’t need my opinion.” You stepped a little closer, testing his boundaries. “Maybe I do.” He stayed still, but you could see the tension in his stance. His voice, when he spoke, was low. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You laughed lightly. “What? Shopping?” His eyes met yours, and for a second, there was nothing but silence between you. “No,” he said softly, almost reluctantly. “This.” The weight of his words hung in the air. For a moment, neither of you moved. His response was a beat too slow. “You should hurry up,” he muttered, his voice deeper than usual. You rolled your eyes, but his tone made your skin tingle. There was something about the way he held himself that made you wonder—did he see you the way you were starting to see him? You slipped back into the dressing room to change, but the tension lingered, thick in the air. When you came out, dressed again, Simon stood up immediately, his shoulders tense. “Let’s go.” The rest of the walk home was quiet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted.

You walked into the house, setting your bags down and slipping off your shoes. Simon followed closely behind, immediately locking the door and heading to the windows like he always did, scanning the outside for any sign of danger. But your mind was elsewhere, replaying that one word—this—over and over again.

What did ‘it’ mean? You had to know.

“Simon,” you called out softly, still unable to meet his eyes. “What did you mean earlier?” He stiffened immediately, turning to face you. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he’d been hoping you would let it go. He didn’t mean to let that word slip out, and now he was trying to think of a way around it. “What do you mean?” His tone was even, but there was a slight edge to it, a hint of tension. You swallowed, gathering your courage. “You said I was making this hard. I’m not sure what that means… I want you to tell me.” Finally, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Simon just stared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching like he was fighting with himself. His silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, as though he was weighing whether or not to tell you the truth. He turned back to the window, staring outside as if it would give him the answer he needed. “You’re making my job harder,” he said after a long pause, but there was something in his voice—a hesitation. But you had a smirk on your face knowing exactly what it was, “it was the set wasn’t it?” there was a pause, “you thought I looked good, too good right?” you stepped closer to him testing his limits wanting more reaction out of him. “I think you should keep this fantasy shit to yourself” he said quickly snapping back at you, but you kept pushing, “I don’t blame you Simon, I bet it’s been months since you got laid and I won’t lie it’s been a hot minute for me too with you being around me all the time, having me cooped in this house” you can see his brows furrowing. “you’re crossing the god damn line” that’s what he was saying but the raging boner in his pants said completely different about your attitude.

Before you knew it, he was stepping toward you, his hand gripping your arm firmly. “You’re pushing me too far,” he said, his voice low and rough. You met his gaze, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “Maybe I need you to push back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment was charged, and without warning, one of his hands let go from your arm to lift up his mask above his nose exposing his lips. your eyes widen never seeing anything but his eyes for the last few months. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, It was intense and consuming, leaving both of you breathless and more entangled than before.

He picked you up and put you on the dining table. the kiss became more passionate with his hands tangled in your hair, you could feel your core throb waiting to be touched. Simon pulled away from you and looked into your eyes, “you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to touch you” he says breathing heavily. “all those times you walked around with no bra and I could see your fucking nipples through your shirt and the times you walked around with your ass out, god I wanted to bend you over, i’d fuck you right there and don’t even forget about the times I could here you moaning in the shower doing god knows what to that pussy, ya fuckin minx” your cunt was practically dripping at his words, your breathing became more heavier, “Then do it Simon, bend me over and fuck me” before you could say anymore he already was turning you over on the counter and pulling your pants down. “already planning on it love”. Simon pulled your pants down then slowly pulled your panties down revealing your wet pussy. he bent down to get eye level with it bring his fingers up to your folds and playing with your clit. You moaned at his touched, “fuh-fuck”. Simon pulled his fingers away and replaced it with his tongue, licking your throbbing clit and making you squirm.

He ate you out till you came on his mouth, “Si please”. Simon got up and looked at your bent over form while he started unbuckling his pants, “please what love?” he already knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. “fuck me hard” he smiled at your words taking his hard cock in his hand rubbing his pre cum all over the top of his head giving it extra lubricant. He aligned his cocked to your hole and slammed into you making you jump, “Shhhhhhhit” you hiss out the word from the painful pleasure. He started to thrust in and out of you hearing your moans made him want to cum already but he couldn’t, it felt too damn good to stop now. Simon bent down to your ear, “All those fuckin times you were playing with this tight cunt in the shower, who were you thinkin about huh?”. You didn’t want to answer out of embarrassment but you did it anyways, “y-you si, I thought about sucking your cock and you cumming all over my tits” that snapped something in him when you said that, his pace picked up he started fucking you harder, his balls slapping against your clit. “what would ya daddy think of the man he hired to protect you fucking your pussy raw?”. You could feel your self about to cum, “Si I’m gonna cum on your cock” his thrust became sloppier feeling himself about to finish too, “cum baby, cum”. Simon thrusted harder into your cunt making your back arch more and your ass jiggle against his hips the sight was pushing him over the edge, “god damn baby i’m gonna to cum” his hands gripped into your hips harder. “Simon cum inside me god please”. He busted a load in you, pushing his cock feel in you making sure nothing came out, “fuckin hell”.

After the intensity of the moment subsided, Simon and you lay there in the aftermath, the room now quiet except for your shared breathing. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “I didn’t plan for this,” Simon said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and affection. “I never wanted to cross that line.” You turned to face him, your own emotions swirling. “Neither did I, but… it felt right in the moment. I just want to know what this means for us.” Simon looked at you with a conflicted expression. “I don’t have all the answers. This situation is complicated, and I’m still trying to figure out how to balance my feelings with my responsibilities.” he says lowly “I understand,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “I just need to know where we stand. Do you want to try and make this work, or is this something we need to move past?” There was a pause as Simon considered his words. “I care about you more than I should,” he admitted. “But I also need to focus on keeping you safe. We’ll have to navigate this carefully.” You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said, squeezing his hand.

“As long as we’re honest with each other.”