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evanchantingpeters · 4 months

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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 4)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ In the whirlwind Hollywood world, Evan and Y/N are flipping the script. With a filming delay for Evan’s Tron scenes, ten days become four tantalising months. Taking the leap, Evan proudly introduces Y/N as his girlfriend at the Emmy Awards. As they dazzle at the afterparty, they’re also plotting an escapade. Away from the flashing cameras of paps and the gossiping spectators, they’re stealing away to a secluded beach by the venue for a night of pleasure and fluids...

Warnings ─ Swearing, public sex, sex on the beach, oral (both receiving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, bondage, mild BDSM, nipple teasing, spanking, dry humping, vaginal sex, woman on top, doggie, extra smutty (per usual, lol)

Read Part 1 here | Read Part 2 here | Read Part 3 here

Word count ─ 5.5K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

You and Adria breeze into her bedroom like the dynamic duo of snack time, armed with a mega-sized bowl of popcorn, a killer cheese platter, and a tray of toasty beverages. Adria’s sporting that cheeky grin, like she’s about to drop the meme of the century, and you can’t help but giggle, knowing the night’s about to get lit.

As you step in, you’re met with a sight straight out of a Pinterest board. There’s this epic mound of duvets and pillows stacked up in the middle of the floor, like a cosy fort waiting to be conquered. And there they are, the squad – Val, Natasha, and Mirka – all huddled together, shuffling the cards like they’re running their own underground casino.

“Alright, girlies…gather up,” Adria hollers, flexing her sparkling engagement ring, and you both flop onto the comfy chaos, laughing. Before long, popcorn is flying like spring rain as you jump into the card game like you were born for this moment. You’re personally slinging drinks, channelling your inner barista at a hipster café, except these are mugs of hot cocoa and herbal tea, not fancy cocktails.

The room is buzzing with energy as the banter bounces back and forth like a ping-pong match, touching on varied topics—from eyebrow tweezers, acne, holiday destinations, and wedding flowers for Adria to immigrant visas, AI, wars, and recycling methods. Mirka’s laugh is loud enough to wake the dead, and Val’s one-liners are so on point they should come with a fire emoji. Natasha, meanwhile, is playing it cool, but you can practically see the competitive flames dancing behind those Insta-filtered eyes every time she slaps down a winning hand.

“Nash, why so quiet?” Mirka teases with a cheeky smile, giving Natasha a playful nudge.

Natasha lowers her head, her fingers bending and flicking nervously over a card. “I know we’re here to celebrate Ad and Tommy tying the knot since it’s only been a week—”

“No need to keep up the act if something’s bugging you, Nash. Speak up,” Adria urges, gently squeezing her friend’s hand.

Natasha lets out a heavy sigh. “About this depersonalisation…derealisation…you name it…thing I mentioned before,” she admits, her voice shaking.

Val stuffs a hefty handful of popcorn into her mouth before chiming in. “What about it?” she inquires nonchalantly.

“About feeling like someone’s cranking up the volume on your own existence,” Natasha mumbles, her gaze flitting anxiously around our circle. “Suddenly, every mundane, everyday sensation feels way too real—the scrape of the toothbrush bristles against your teeth, the movement of your tongue, the flare of your nostrils with each breath…even the blink of your eyes almost echoing in your ears.”

Adria’s eyebrows are drawn together as she rubs her temples and squints her eyes as if trying to wrap her head around the concept. “Your Latina is too stunned to speak with your Yapanese, Nash,” she quips at the confession, though she immediately reconsiders and hastily raises her hand in apology. “Sorry, I don’t know what got into me… Go on—it happened again?” she mutters, a hair tie dangling from her mouth as she wrestles her hair into a messy bun.

“Yea… today morning, actually,” Natasha is quick to respond hoarsely, her voice cracking. “It’s like you’re watching yourself do something, but it doesn’t feel like you, you know? It’s this out-of-body experience, and suddenly, bam! The curtain gets violently ripped back, exposing the raw, unfiltered reality of living, breathing, feeling every damn twist and turn.”

She pauses to draw a sharp breath before carrying on. “And then the ontological Wh- questions start flooding in, like, ‘What am I doing? Who am I, really? Why am I in this room, in this building, in this world, in this endless universe? Where will I go after I die?’ They crash into you like a cosmic truck—the idea of the soul being immortal and stretching on and on and on and on and on into eternity.”

You’re glued in, hanging onto every letter as your friend bares her soul, your gaze stuck to her. Your fingers running through her hair are soothing enough to serve as her lifeline in moments like this. “Sometimes, our minds pull serious pranks on us, Nash,” you begin, your voice laced with sage-like wisdom, “especially when anxiety, an existential crisis, or just some old trauma is thrown in the mix. It’s like a defence mechanism, trying to shield us from emotions that could totally wreck our sanity.”

Natasha blinks rapidly as she shrugs you away, still grappling to make sense of it all. “But why? It hits me outta nowhere…when I least expect it...like, when I’m just chilling…Not even my therapist can solve the riddle.”

You take a moment, as if you’re mulling it over and finding the right words to put it. “Mhm, think of it like a mental reboot,” you explain, your voice like a smooth jazz track as you give her arm comforting rubs. “Your brain’s like ‘Whoa, hold up!’ and creates this buffer zone, making you feel a bit detached and dissociated. It’s like hitting pause to recalibrate and protect itself.”

After a long pause, Natasha sniffles and rubs her eyes, then nods. “Alright, I’ll tuck that away in my brain’s little filing cabinet for now, no biggie. Enough of me cosplaying Courage the Cowardly Dog, freaking out over every little thing. Let’s chat about something else,” she urges, clapping her hands together before taking a giant gulp of hot chocolate and munching on a marshmallow, whipped cream all over her mouth.

Just as the vibe gets brighter, your phone lights up with a WhatsApp notification. You glance down to see a message from Evan, and your heart does a little marathon in your chest—ground breaking reaction, Y/N—as you open it. (Cue the dramatic music!) The text is concise and sweet, but it’s the attachment that sends your head spinning — a VIP invite to the Emmy Awards afterparty, followed by another cute message, reading:

I’d love to have you there with me🥰

Shock paralyses you as a tsunami of questions smashes you. Is he asking you to be his arm candy or is this just a friendly gesture?

Needing a breather to let it all sink in, you pull the classic “gotta use the restroom” move and sneak away to a quiet corner of the house. The phone feels like a brick in your hand as you summon the courage to call Evan, your heart doing backflips just at the thought.

And just like that, he picks up almost instantly. “Hey, Y/N? How’s your sleepover?” His velvety voice—a familiar anchor in the storm of your head—flows through the line with a tinge of concern.

You gulp down a shaky breath, trying to regulate the rapid fluttering you feel in your throat. “Uh, all good... I mean... What’s with the invite?” you blurt out, involuntarily scratching your head and scrunching your nose in confusion. Meanwhile, you pace in the room like a caged tiger.

“I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather have with me and is not a blood relation,” he replies confidently, his determination practically oozing through the phone.

His statement hits you like a stampede of elephants in your stomach, robbing you of words as he barrels ahead with more enthusiasm than a kid at Disneyland. “It’ll be a night to remember, I promise.”

As your nerves begin to ease and excitement creeps in, you can’t help but wonder about your role at the event. “Congrats on your nomination, but, uh, may I ask, what exactly am I doing there?” you spill out, rightfully so, trying to sound casual despite the tornado swirling in your mind. “I mean, we’re not exactly best buds like you’re with Jeff, for example.”

But Evan, ever the smooth talker, doesn’t miss a beat. “You’ll be my plus one, my girlfriend,” he utters, his voice soft but resolute, like he’s making a declaration. Your breath hitches in your throat at the word ‘girlfriend,’ your whole body going numb.

You’re biting your lip so hard you’re practically taste-testing them, fists clenched and excitedly pounding against your thigh like it’s a drum solo. Girlfriend? You? At the Emmys? It’s like a scene ripped straight out of a rom-com, and you’re half-convinced you’ve somehow stumbled into an alternate universe.

“Uh, Evan, you do realise this is gonna stir up a whole pot of drama, right?” you slur, your voice barely louder than a mouse’s squeak as you nervously fidget with the hem of your pyjamas. “I mean, your fans are gonna go full FBI on me, crafting voodoo dolls and whatnot out of envy for not picking them. And then, there’s the paparazzi… those guys will do anything for a saucy headline…”

“I totally get your mini freakout, baby, and we can hash it out tomorrow after your stayover…but seriously, why stress?” He’s quick to fire back and rationalise the situation. Despite your semi-meltdown, his voice is calm and steady like he’s discussing the weather. “Just because a bunch of people recognise me from movies or TV doesn’t mean I’ll be sneaking around in a trench coat and shades, dodging public outings with my lover. I’ll do what makes me happy, protecting my relationship along the way, and if that means bringing my girlfriend to an event, then so be it…” He pauses for a minute before adding, “and I want it to be it.”

His words hang in the air, and for a hot second, all you hear is the relentless thud of your heart. You’re not usually one to lose sleep over what others think about you, even your nearest and dearest friends (since the idea of family has been absent throughout your lifetime), but let’s be real, the Evan situation is completely uncharted waters.

Following another deep breath, you finally muster up a response that you’ve been meaning to let out since you got the texts (but your overanalysing would never). “I want it too, Evan.”

There’s a momentary hush, and you swear you can hear him doing a victory dance or something with the sound of rustling clothes in the background. Then, he lets out his signature throaty chuckle that always gets you on your knees. “Awesome! We’re gonna rock this. I’ll stick by your side, and we’ll handle this together, okay?”

You can’t help but grin at his reassurance, mindlessly twirling a lock of hair between your fingers like a schoolgirl, feeling a surge of excitement. “Yes, together. Honoured,” you reply as your heart keeps doing the happy shuffle.

You gotta pinch yourself just to be sure you’re not stuck in some kind of matrix with Evan these past four months. Turns out, his stay in America got extended from the initial ten days thanks to some miraculous schedule reshuffling, and he’ll be shooting his scenes for Tron in Canada later this year. So, more hangout time with him, more dates…and yeah, more fucking. In his head, and apparently in his parents’ minds too—who you’re meeting soon (send help)—you’re practically official.

And here you are now, cruising in the backseat all dolled up for the Emmys in your sparkling cocktail party dress. Evan’s looking smoking hot in his sharp tux and perfectly slick hair, making you feel like you need a paper bag to catch your breath. He’s holding onto your clammy hands like he’s afraid you’ll vanish into thin air (and frankly, you’re starting to believe it). He’s giving you these adorable little kisses like he knows that your lipstick’s gotta stay put.

And to top it all off, you’ve met his stunning and bubbly sister, Michelle, and her husband. Amidst your anxiety-induced brain freeze, and out of all the phrases you could come up with to greet her for the first time, “lady in red” is all you chant to compliment her elegant red gown. Internally screaming and embarrassed, you wish you could facepalm yourself out of this world. No, but why did she serve so bad?

But guess what? She’s a massive Chris De Burgh fan and his titular song, so it’s safe to say you hit the jackpot with your accidental ice-breaker. She’s practically your biggest cheerleader now, cheering you both on as she chauffeurs you to the venue. So wholesome, you can’t even cope with it!

The long car ride quickly morphs into a full-blown party on wheels, complete with blasting tunes and non-stop laughs. Evan’s hair has gotten hella wild lately, so he’s brought his gel along. You help him tame his mane while the chatter, mostly revolving around you, surprisingly chills you out big time. Evan keeps things snug, giving your hand a comforting squeeze or a peck on the forehead every now and then.

At some point, you throw the ball at their court, and the couple starts dishing out stories about themselves; how they met at some random house party, bonding over their affinity for 90s hip-hop. Before you know it, Michelle is diving into hilarious childhood tales about Evan and their brother, Andrew. Like that time Evan attempted to build a treehouse but ended up face-planting into a mud pit, or when they all suited up as superheroes and terrorised the neighbourhood. And of course, there’s Evan’s legendary Sour Patch Kids and PlayStation commercials, complete with their wild backstories.

It’s an absolute blast, and you’re soaking up every juicy detail. With Evan right by you, throwing in his own anecdotes (like the deer mounting tradition with his friends every Christmas in the suburbs, which throws everyone for a loop because not much happens in Missouri), the whole vibe is elevated. You can’t help but laugh and feel all warm and fuzzy inside, realising you’re not just meeting his family—you’re becoming a part of it.

“Feeling okay, baby girl?” Evan whispers, leaving a tender smooch on your neck, his lips like a feather along your needy skin.

You shiver at the touch, a jolt of electricity surging through you. Nodding, you try to wrangle the rave party inside you, but it’s like herding cats.

He rests his head on the seat, facing you, the plush cushion cradling his head in comfort. “You’re sooo beautiful and hot, Y/N,” he mouths, subtly shaking his head as if he can’t believe his luck. “I wish I could kiss and use my fingers on you the way I want,” he blabs quietly, leaning in closer, his face nestled in the crook of your neck.

“Jail time for both of us if you pull that move here…Security,” you giggle softly, and you feel him join you with his shoulders bouncing with laughter.

“I just want you to know how I feel right now, Y/N” he sighs, looking up at you again, his bottom lip rolling over his top one in his precious puppy-eyed pout.

“Evan crying in horny,” you tease in a sultry murmur, sneaking a glance up front to make sure the couple didn’t catch wind of your banter. With a sly grin, you adjust your strapless gown, adding a touch of allure to your playful attitude.

He shoots back with a playful finger-wag in your face, accompanied by a series of rapid “ts-ts-ts” sounds, as if he’s scolding you with his own audio of strong disapproval. “Evan crying in crazy about you,” he corrects, kissing your hand, his irresistibly handsome dark eyes peering into your soul from below.

Tell me you’re a die-hard, hopeless fangirl without telling me you’re a die-hard, hopeless fangirl. Despite Evan’s nudges, you choose to stealthily station in the corner, letting him slay the red carpet. It’s his night, his moment to shine, and you’re his hype woman.

With each flash of his charming smile—sometimes lowkey and tight-lipped, other times broad and toothy—you’re a flurry of activity, your phone’s storage maxing out with snapshots and videos faster than you can say “Blow Evan”. And when he pulls out that signature eye squint and eyebrow raise at the paparazzi’s obnoxious cues, you’re melting faster than ice cream in July.

His face card never freaking declines.

As you both waltz into the party ball, it’s like you’re attracting the night’s energy, twirling around you like a confetti vortex. Your shimmering dress catches the disco lights, transforming you into a walking glitter bomb. With just the right amount of makeup and your natural long hair cascading freely, you’re primed to own the dance floor.

You spot Niecy Nash, radiant in her black velvet off-the-shoulder gown, exuding vibes like she just won the lottery. Oh wait, she did—Supporting Actress in a Limited Series or TV Movie for Dahmer. She high-fives the four of you and fits you all into a hug tighter than a Victorian corset.

Evan introduces you to everyone from the Dahmer crew and other celebrities with the same wide grin, pride, and thrill of a kid who’s just aced a test. His hand remains glued to you throughout the night, caressing along your upper body and often inching towards your ass, as if he’s marking his territory. Possessive much? Yes, but you’re not complaining; you find it fascinating and such a turn-on, especially knowing how naturally affectionate and kind he is. You feel safe in his presence, your bodies are like magnets—drawn together by some transcendent gravitational pull. His grip is firm, but he looks at you with all the heart-eyed emojis in the world, fully smitten.

Poses? Oh, you all nail them like seasoned supermodels on the runway. It’s the typical hand-on-hip, the coy glance over the shoulder, and the patented “I just won an Emmy, bow down, peasants” pose—check, check, and check. And of course, there’s Evan with his props (pipe, avant-garde sunglasses, and black tie), covered in your lipstick marks as he’s photographed with you. The ladies, led by Jessica—Niecy’s wife—even bust out a new dance move right on the spot, celebrating Niecy’s win.

But it’s not just Niecy and Jessica stealing the spotlight tonight. You find yourself mingling with Pedro Pascal, who’s looking dapper as ever in his suit, and Kieran Culkin, who’s cracking jokes faster than the champagne is flowing. You’re laughing so hard, you almost forget you’re rubbing elbows with Hollywood royalty.

As the hours drift by like sand through an hourglass, Evan’s sister and her husband say their goodbyes, inviting you both over for dinner next week. Spotting the opportunity for a minute alone, you and Evan snag in a corner booth, swaying to the loud music beats with your earplugs, kissing in between giggles, clinking glasses, eyes locked, smiles broad.

Close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, Evan nuzzles his nose against yours, his eyes burning into yours. His brows furrow in a silent plea, his chest swelling with anticipation as his hands delicately cup your face.

Before you can even form a coherent thought, he’s already sealing your lips with his, his tongue slowly sliding into your mouth with a hunger that leaves you breathless.

“Do you kn—?” you attempt to articulate, but he’s not having any of it; he’s a changed man in need to do unholy things with you. He silences you with another passionate kiss, a soft, desperate moan escaping his lips along the process.

“Evan,” you manage to murmur into his lips as he subtly sucks your bottom lip.

“Yes, baby,” he hushes, his lips curling into a coy smile as his grip tightens around you.

You loop your arms around his neck, tilting your head with a mischievous grin as you stare deep into his eyes. “I wanna UNO card reverse you.”

His eyebrow quirks up in amusement, his grin turning devilish. “UNO, what? Is this sexual? Subs, please,” he taunts, giving your butt cheeks a playful squeeze, totally unbothered by any nosy onlookers. In your defence, you’re not the only guests caught in a steamy make-out sesh at close vicinity, so why not have a little fun?

“My innocent, millennial baby,” you exclaim, squishing his adorable face with a giggle. “I’m saying, now that most of the press’ gone, how about we find a comfy spot by the beach where we can be alone?” you suggest, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper as you trace circles on his chest with your fingertips. “There, I’ll shower you with kisses,” you continue, and your wetness worsens as you imagine him fucking your mouth, “and finally, I’ll suck your dick until you’re gasping for air and bust in my mouth.”

His eyes darken with desire as you unravel your plan, a low groan slipping off his lips. “Sounds like heaven. Say no more.”

The distant thump of music and the soft glow of fairy lights fades as you and Evan bolt away from the bustling venue, his hand clasped firmly in yours as the adrenaline of the escape courses through your veins. With a shared glance and a mischievous grin, you dart through the shadows like a pair of rebels on the run, laughter fizzing up like a effervescent multivitamin.

Finally reaching the secluded shoreline, you both collapse onto the soft and warm sand — a delicious contrast to the cool breeze that envelops you like a fuzzy blanket. With a cheeky smile, you straddle his lap and sense him already rubbing his rock-hard boner against your pulsating cunt.

His hands find your hips, pulling you closer as he gazes up at you with smouldering intensity. With a low squeal, you lock eyes with him, teasingly licking his bottom lip before sensually sliding your tongue over his upper lip, his pupils following your every move.

With a hungry growl, he captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his hands roaming over your body with a feverish, almost primal, urgency. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a seductive, almost angelic, silver sheen on the rippling water and his chiselled abs as you loosen his bow tie and unbutton his shirt.

He squeezes your thighs gently, eliciting a soft whimper from you as he begins to explore beneath the hem of your dress. His eyes are immediately drawn to your cleavage, and you feel his heart rate accelerating. You squirm underneath his touch as he starts to trace figure eights on your puffy clit, making it increasingly difficult to focus on stroking his stiff length.

His thumb brushes against the sensitive skin just above the edge of your panties, sending a tremor across your body. “Gosh, you smell so divine...like strawberries,” he huffs, his voice low and husky as he dips his tongue in your mouth, as if he’s planning to bottle your scent up and promote it as the official elixir of happiness. “As sweet as you fucking taste.”

His fingers slip beneath your panties, stroking your bare flesh with deliberate intent. “You’re already so wet for me. Can’t wait for your little pussy to take my cock?” You nod, and your mewls intensify barely muffled by his blazer as you press against his shoulder.

He grins, knowing very well that you’re struggling with your impending screams of pleasure. “Just thinking about how amazing it’s gonna feel when you fuck me,” you manage to coo, your voice thick with lust, and he lowers your strapless dress in a single move, his hands massaging your tits in no time and with expert skill. Meanwhile, he attacks your neck with open-mouthed kisses, his hot breath igniting a wildfire of sensations in you.

Your tits nestle on his chest — the feeling of his naked skin against your hardened nipples only worsens the pool between your thighs. Gathering your strength to strike back, your hand glides to the buckle of his belt, a wicked glint in your eye as you make your move. “But first, imagine my lips wrapped around your dick…” you breathe suggestively into his ear, trailing kisses down his collarbone.

He bobs his head to the side, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip in a futile attempt to stifle his reactions as you gradually unzip his trousers to liberate the beast hidden behind the layers of fabric.

Just as you fumble around his bulge, your lips never leaving his, a flash of car headlights jolts you. “Evan, someone might catch us,” you gasp, panicking as you shrink into a ball on top of him, frantically adjusting your dress in any which way.

He shoots a quick glance over his shoulder, instinctively pulling you closer to him—his arms a sanctuary of safety. “Chances are slim to none of anyone finding us here, especially at this hour, but…” he trails off, scooping you up his arms in one swift motion. “I don’t want my girl feeling anxious,” he adds as he wades into the cool water, the waves licking gently at his calves. He leads you to a large rock, sheltered from any potential prying eyes.

Gently setting you down in the shallows, you both burst into laughter, splashing around like carefree youth, the water lapping at your skin like an affectionate caress. With each wave that rolls over your feet, the heat between you only escalates.

Pulling his head towards yours for a kiss, you hear him groan, and it instantly sends a shot of arousal through you. Palming and teasing his clothed, overstimulated crotch, you shove your tongue in his mouth, tangling with his and repeatedly sucking on its tip—soon turning the vanilla smooch into a heated, messy kiss that drives you both nuts.

Your mouth dances over the rapid pulse on his neck that’s pumping all the more quicker against your lips. “Someone seemed a tad jealous tonight,” your voice deep with desire yet your gaze holds an lustful mischief he can’t resist. You refrain from dropping any names, curious to see if he’ll take the bait.

“No, I wasn’t, Y/N. I’m not the controlling type of boyfriend who’s gonna stalk your every move like a creepo,” he defends with a furrow forming on his brow before his hands smooth over your ass and deliver a sharp yet affectionate smack. “I know you’re all mine, my girl… my dirty little slut when I want you to be,” the syllables come out strained like he’s on the brink of losing control.

Bingo—he falls right into your playful trap. You fix at him with an intense gaze, a triumphant grin already spreading across your face. “I never said it was you, poor, naïve baby of mine,” you chirp, puckering your lips as you punctuate each word with gentle, harmless slaps and pinches to his cheek.

He shoots you a glare when you burst out laughing, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh, you wanna play dirty, then? I’ll show you dirty, and you’ll be sorry,” he fights back. You feel his fingers sliding along your soaked slit, applying tantalising pressure on your sore clit.

Closing your eyes, you fight the urge to indulge in your orgasm, humming, “I won’t” as you nibble on his lower lip to tone down your little sobs of delight.

“Oh, yeah? You won’t?” he exclaims, and his touch becomes immediately rougher. His fingers plunge, twirl, and scissor in and out of you with increasing fervour. Your moans crescendo to a feverish pitch, drowning out his ragged breaths. You don’t even realise he’s muttering curses under his breath as he fingers you relentlessly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Evan,” you cry out the mantra as the familiar, tingly feeling at the pit of my stomach tips you over the edge of your high.

And just like that, he withdraws his fingers from your throbbing core. His gaze flickers downwards at his hand—now all drenched and glistening with your cum—as he cups your chin, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Take back what you just said,” he demands, his voice tinged with desire.

“I won’t. You robbed me of my orgasm,” your protest, arms crossed over your chest in mock offence.

Tilting his head, he gives you a goofy smile, his eyes focused on your mouth as his fingers trace your pouted lips.

A mischievous smirk curls up the corners of your lips as you take his thumb in your mouth, sucking it seductively. “But I have a big heart, so I forgive you,” you mutter, releasing his thumb with a tantalising pop before kneeling down in front of his bulge. Your lips glisten with the precum from his boxers as you eagerly wet them, ready for what’s to come.

Before he can even register your moves, his head drops, jaw slackening until all twenty-eight of his teeth are on full display in a crooked, pearly smile.

Your tongue glides down the length of his cock, taking him deeper until your lips are hugging snugly around the base. He can’t quite keep up with your fervent pace, his throat constricting as a chorus of desperate groans escape him. “F-fuckkk,” he stutters, his voice rising to a whimper, “Feels so good, baby. So goddamn good.”

His rosy lips can’t stop their blabbering, mind shrinking into a blissful void, where the only thing of significance is your talented mouth working its magic between his legs. As your tongue flicks and swirls, he buckles his legs out, his soft touch on your head tightening, fisting up your strands almost aggressively.

Your nails drag lightly down his thighs, your shoulders rising as you splutter around him, choking on the way he fills you whole while you deep-throat him.

“Got the prettiest eyes. So-so fucking gorgeous,” he rasps, gazing back down at you with a mix of awe and adoration, his pupils blown in a battling mess of love and lust as your eyes find him.

“D-don’t stop, please, please,” he gasps, a sudden thrust of his hips causing your teeth to slightly pierce against his sensitive flesh that keeps forcing itself down your throat.

Yet, his cries are cut short by a final, guttural moan that draws itself out long and conclusive. You watch as his body locks up and his Adam’s apple bounces like crazy, his muscles as solid as the rock he leans against.

His eyes glaze over all blank before they roll back, his long lashes casting a shadow against his flushed face. With your cheeks hollowed, you bob your head slowly, letting him plummet through the tides of euphoria.

The impulse to milk him dry of absolutely everything he has to give consumes you, but you rein it to get your revenge, so you stop. He stares down at you with eyes wide open, his breath uneven. You can’t decipher his expression as you stand back up and land mere inches from his face.

Although you’re at your full height, he still towers over you, and you swallow nervously when he scoffs.

“You think you can slide away with that one so easily, huh?” he mumbles in a low, stern tone, his breaths coming in wheezy puffs. Running a hand from your jaw down to your chest, he gropes your boobs, biting his lip as he does.

You rest over the edge of the rock, your smirk and raised brow are what you hope to be indicators of your ‘playing cool’ demeanour despite your misconduct.

“I might be head over heels for you,” he pauses, letting out a soft groan as his fingertips brush the slimy product of your arousal on the inside of your thigh.

You settle back onto the sandy surface of the water before the rock, murmuring, “Aham?” and biting your lip, your mocking gaze fixed on him.

“But…” he continues, halting only to clear his throat as if to regain his composure. “...it irks me when you blow me so damn well and then deny me the finish.”

“Awh… how dare I, baby Evan, right?” you scowl at him playfully, puckering your lips again in feigned shock. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You feel his erection against your lower stomach as he stretches out over you to grab his floating bow tie. “I’m gonna edge you until you’re crying and begging me to let you cum. Easy peasy.”

“I’d never beg for you–” You don’t even get to complete your sentence, and his lips collide into yours in a raw, animalistic force that takes you by surprise. You already fold (Question is: when are you not folding for Evan Peters?), even knowing you’re just getting started.

“You were warned,” he retorts, his voice a deep, commanding growl. Each word carries a weighty timbre, as if it’s coming from the depths of his chest. He ties your wrists above your head, securing them to a small stone jutting from the main rock, leaving you completely at his mercy with no wriggle room.

His lips leave a blazing path of kisses over your cleavage down to your stomach, his hot breath tingling your skin. Spreading your legs, he hovers over you with a sly grin.

You feel his quivery breath on your inner thighs as he plants tender pecks and playful nips, teasingly close to your folds. Arching your back, your dripping pussy convulses in anticipation. He giggles at your reaction, his stare fixed on you. Without warning, his tongue starts lapping up your juices, and you squeal in pleasure.

He can’t help but groan at your taste, his cock twitching in his trousers as he shifts up, his mouth latching onto your clit, sucking and nibbling.

“Fuck!” you gasp, your hands threading into his hair. You hold his face between your legs, and you can practically sense his smirk against your flesh as electricity sparks through you.

When he starts whirling your clit with his tongue, his growls vibrating through your core, you lose your shit. You feel like coming right away as he stimulates your most sensitive spot, but he draws back. “Beg,” he commands through gritted teeth.

“Never,” you shoot back out of breath, and that’s when he dives in headfirst. His lips suck on your clit even harder while his tongue ruthlessly slides along your slit, leaving you crying out but not yet caving.

You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms, as you squirm under his touch. But he only tightens his grip on your thigh, devouring you like he’s famished.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he chuckles, momentarily backing away to catch his breath. His tongue then alternates between tracing patterns on your pulsing nub and flicking it with his tip. Your fingers scrape at his scalp as ecstasy builds higher and higher the faster he fucks into you.

He’s so invested in pleasuring you, his tongue twisting and twirling along your gummy, slopping walls. No one has ever volunteered to lick you up, let alone enjoy it themselves and make you see stars so effortlessly. You always had to ask for it like it’s a task, and all your pussy has only known is just some spit, a cursory touch down there just to moisture the area, and all in they went.

Evan’s nose lightly nuzzles against your clit as his tongue does wonders on your sobbing, red cunt, leaving your mind all foggy. You bite down on your hand to contain your moans, but they only get higher, and you accept your fate that you won’t last long.

Not wanting to let up, he merely grunts against you, sending seismic waves through your body that cause your pussy to pulsate around his mouth.

“Evan,” you choke out, tears streaming down your eyes from how amazing he makes you feel. You circle your hips against his face, whining when he pulls his tongue out of you but squealing when he slams two long fingers deep inside, hitting right at your g-spot.

“Say it,” he hisses against your swollen cunt, his eyes on you. Your hips jolt up, the water becoming all foamy as you splash around, thighs shaking as he licks and fingers you through your orgasm.

“Okay… ahh… okay, f-fuck…” you stammer. “Let me cum p-please… I…I… ahh… I need to please.”

And right there, when you feel drained of dignity, he jams his tongue back inside. He performs a swirling dance, coupled with clit-sucking, that makes you lose your mind, your legs growing wobbly.

“That’s my girl…” he coos. “So fucking pretty for me. Such pretty fucking sounds.”

Your earth-shattering orgasm hits you like an earthquake, and you cry out his name loudly. Your vision blurs as you fight for breath. You’re always so gorgeous when you come for him— splayed out on display, legs spread, pussy leaking, tits flowing as your chest heaves, body coated in a shimmering of sweat. The look of sheer pleasure in your darkened eyes is a sight he’ll never tire of.

He slows his tongue, gently blowing warm air on the sides of your vulva, easing you through the aftershocks of your release. It’s exactly what you need right now to calm down, to be honest. He slips his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips, a greedy look in your eyes as you watch him suck his fingers clean. He nearly makes a show of it, groaning before letting them pop from his mouth.

“I was so right about the sweet taste,” he praises, “almost wondering what I should do with you next.” He smirks crookedly at the way you instantly pout, letting out a soft whine, “what, baby?”

“Need you,” you sigh, smiling lazily at him.

“Yeah?” his hand comes back between your legs, palming at your throbbing cunt. “Need what? My fingers again?” His index delves back in, but only for one thrust, your pussy fluttering around his finger as it stretches you out, “My mouth? Or something else?”

“Your cock, please!”

He chuckles, reaching up to free you from the confines of his bow tie. You react instantly and lash out at him, plunging deeper into the water, the world above suddenly muted and serene. Underwater, you open your eyes, catching a blurry glimpse of Evan’s sly grin before he propels himself towards you with strong, graceful strokes.

You feel a gush of enthusiasm as he grabs you from the waist, drawing you close. The warmth of his body goes against the cool water, sending a tremor down your spine. With a quick, smooth motion, Evan leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate sub-aquatic kiss.

The sensation is electric. Surrounded by a bubble ring, your bodies entwine as you lose yourselves in each other, the salty water mingling with the sweet heat of the kiss. His hands explore your back, touching the curves of your body in well-executed strokes that make your heart go into override.

You both swim to the surface, gasping for air but not letting go of each other. The crispy evening air clashes sharply with your heated bodies. He breaks the kiss, a teasing spark in his eyes. “So, you accept defeat?” he murmurs huskily, wiping droplets from your plump lips with a mischievous smile.

You giggle, playfully pushing him back with a splash but maintaining the hold you have on him. “Never,” you reply, eyes daring him. He responds with a deep, hearty laugh that rumbles through you before he dives back underwater.

Emerging right in front you with a wide grin, he kisses you harder, hands framing your face, his tongue dancing with yours in a fiery connection. His fingers trace your jawline before tangling in your hair, gently tugging you closer. Your pulse races, and every nerve in your body seems to come alive with his touch.

“Okay, maybe I’ll accept a little defeat on one condition…” you hesitate, smiling bashfully as you run your hands through his hair.

Reciprocating the smile, he sweeps a wet strand of hair away from your face. “What is it? What do you need?" he asks, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Tell me, Y/N...I know you want it. Don’t be shy.”

You give him another playful nudge, rolling your eyes. “My condition’s that you go full force tonight, and fuck me hard.”

His eye pupils dilate with desire, a crooked smirk forming. “Oh, rest assured I plan to,” he affirms, his voice dripping with anticipation. “Consider it a done deal my dear,” he adds, sealing the “agreement” with one last, lingering kiss.

As you both stroll back to the place Evan recently rented near the venue, the salty night swim still clings on your skin. Your laughter mingles with the gentle chirping of crickets in the distance. Semi-damp from the ocean, the night breeze brings goosebumps.

Evan’s hand is warm and reassuring as he guides you inside. The place is spacious and welcoming, dimly lit with soft, ambient lighting that casts a romantic haze over everything. The furniture is arranged for comfort and intimacy—plush cushions adorn a deep sofa, inviting you to sink in. A rich throw blanket adds warmth. Nearby, a rustic coffee table holds curios and books, complementing the room’s cosy feel.

Tasteful artwork and subtle floral arrangements enhance the tranquil atmosphere, making it the perfect backdrop for a night of both erotic intimacy for cuddles or foreplay and the we-fuck-like-rabbits kind of sex.

He locks the door behind you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’re still dripping,” he teases, wiggling his brows with a mischievous grin even though he can clearly tell you’re almost dry.

“I think we should get out of these soaked clothes before we catch a cold,” he advises, tossing the keys in a bowl and peeling off his black blazer. “Then, it’s straight upstairs, hopping into the bed together. Instead of a tea and a blanket, how about we turn up the heat by banging till the crack of dawn?”

Your laughter fills the hallway at his suggestion as you unzip your gown, deliberately pausing halfway to glance back at him cheekily, your clutch bag still in your hands. He’s practically drooling like a cartoon dog, eyeing you. “Yeah, no kidding,” you quip, flashing him a wicked grin.

His gaze follows your every move, drinking in the sight of you, a coy smirk playing on his lips as he rolls up his shirt sleeves. You hold his gaze, daring him to look as you indulge in an impromptu striptease, each movement more sensual than the last.

He draws closer, his belt hanging loose, his shirt already halfway undone, showcasing the taut muscles of his chest. “Let me give you a hand,” he mumbles, deftly gliding the zipper down the curve of your ass.

His fingers travel along your lower back and hipbones, guiding you to turn and face him. Pulling you closer, he plants a trail of kisses from your collarbone to the gentle swell of your breasts.

“You’re not playing fair,” you whisper, your voice low and teasing. “But I love it.”

“Fair is boring and overrated,” he retorts with a smirk, and your breath hitches as his robust hands cup your bare tits, his tongue assaulting your mouth in ways that soak your panties. His hands roam over your body, tracing every contour as if memorising your shape and texture.

The air is charged, dense with unspoken desires. “Y/N,” his lips brush against yours, his hot and laboured breath fanning your face. He hoists you up onto a nearby surface, his bulge pressing against your heat. “I want all of you so badly, I’m not gonna get you pregnant,” he vows, and you both giggle.

For context, you’ve mutually been dealing with some serious baby fever lately and already had the talk—hence the inside joke lightening the mood.

His eyes lock onto yours as he helps you out of your gown, letting it pool at your feet before landing on the floor. He swallows hard at the sight of you in just your underwear. Holding his stare, his tongue gets all tangled with yours, his fingers shifting to stroke the hard nub of your clit. Broken sobs escape your mouth as your hips start to move in sync with the onslaught of his hand, turning you into a writhing, mewling mess.

Just as you feel yourself slipping off the furniture, Evan quickly and safely moves you both to a nearby kitchen chair, positioning you on top of him. Taking control, you roughen the kiss, fully removing his shirt and rubbing your wet centre against his overstimulated, erected member.

In this moment, time stands still, and you lose yourself in the intoxicating bliss of each other’s presence. It’s not just physical; it’s a meeting of minds, a fusion of hearts.

He grips your hips, matching your grinding rhythm as you feel him harden and twitch beneath you.

“Fuck you’ve got me all wrapped around your little finger,” he growls, his cock almost weeping against your cunt, begging to be paid attention to.

Suddenly, his phone springs to life on the hallway, buzzing insistently, its screen lighting up like a beacon of disruption in the dim room.

“Leave it,” he groans against your neck, evidently prioritising pleasure over duty. The sound is jarring, opposing the tender whispers and the heated panting that filled the space just moments before.

“Take it, Evan. It might be an emergency,” you prompt, climbing off him while his hands linger on your butt.

With an exasperated huff, he rolls his eyes as you reach for the device. “It’s my mum,” he grumbles. His thumb hovers over the screen for a moment as if debating whether to answer or decline.

“Just take it,” you persist, and he clicks his tongue, picking it up with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, mum?”

With a playful peck, signalling your intention to slip away, you mouth, “Give my regards.”

He smirks slyly and gives your ass a playful smack before you gracefully slither toward the staircase. He watches you ascend with a bitten lip, torn between you and the conversation, only half-listening to his mom. As you reach the midpoint of the stairs, you pause to remove your panties, flicking towards him with a swift flourish.

With reflexes rivalling those of a wild animal, he snatches them mid-air, his gaze never wavering from yours. Bringing the panties to his nose, he inhales your essence encapsulated within the fabric, a fond smile gracing his lips. Pretending as if you’re no longer around, he theatrically sneaks the underwear in his pocket, giving you a playful wink at the end of his act to reveal his true intentions.

“Yes, mum, the ceremony was spectacular,” he reports, his voice strained with distraction. “No, I didn’t win this time around, but it’s all good. No hard feelings. It was nice to hang out with Michelle and others at the party.”

A brief pause ensues before he adds, “Yeah, Y/N is here with me, says hi. Yes, mum...if you need to be sure of, it’s that I’m taking very good care of Y/N… We’re going to Michelle’s next Thursday for dinner…” His eyes stay locked on you as you reach the top of the stairs, his focus still divided.

You disappear into the bedroom, just as inviting, with a large, plush king-sized bed draped in soft linens. You leave the door slightly ajar and sprawl on the centre of the bed. You hear him carrying over the conversation, clearly flustered. “Soon. We’ll come round soon. Gotta go, mum, but we’ll catch up more tomorrow, okay? I’ll phone you. Kisses to dad and Andrew. Love you all.”

He ends the call hastily, tossing the phone aside, and practically flies up the stairs to join you. Eagerness and passion are written all over his face when he bursts into the room. “Couldn’t wait another sec–” he stops mid-sentence when he catches you right in action, dipping two fingers into your slick folds, mouth agape.

With his blazer and shirt back on probably to facetime his mum, he gulps hard and folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the door frame to admire you. You prop yourself on your elbows, knees bent and facing up as you gather your arousal and bring it up to your clit, swirling it in small, intricate circles.

“That should be my dick doing this to you, baby girl,” he protests, his brows knitted together, his tone rigid yet painted with passion. His expression softens to a hushed murmur when he observes you throw your head back, lips slightly parted in a seductive invite, softly whining his name as you continue to touch yourself.

As if in a trance, he kneels at the edge of the bed, chucking his blazer and shirt away. Crawling up towards you, he peppers tender kisses along your throbbing pussy, making you giggle in delight.

“Then, show me what your dick can do to me,” you challenge with a coy smirk, moaning softly as he licks his way up your lips for a harsh, heated kiss.

He groans, his forehead resting against yours, his breath heavy and ragged. “God, Y/N, you have no idea what you do to me,” he rasps, his voice thick with need.

He floats deep between your open legs, and you help him shuck his trousers off without breaking the kiss. His hand wraps around his cock as you hungrily fondle his muscular upper body, his thumb smearing the pre-cum around it as he lets out a soft grunt, “Fuck… you always get me so hard,” he sighs, his tip sliding along your slippery folds, coating it with your juices.

“Evan…please,” you moan, your hips desperately rocking in tune with his rhythm.

“Please what?” He beckons to you with a tilt of his chin and arches a brow in your direction as he slides a condom along his member. He continues his torturous movement, eliciting louder your whimpers from you.

“I want it.”

His devilish grin expands all over his face as he looks down on you. “Use your words, baby girl,” he urges as his tongue grazes his side teeth, his lustful eyes narrowing.

“Please, fuck me!”

“That’s what I wanna hear, baby.” He leans over you again, capturing your thirsty lips in a kiss as he lines up his hips. Satisfied moans slip off you both as his cock sinks into your heat. He fills your warmth completely until his hips are seated against yours, and you can both feel your pussy clenching around him.

“Stay in me for life,” you chuckle breathlessly, and nods eagerly, his hand holding your wrists over your head while pounding in and out with breathy groans.

Your legs eagerly wrap around his waist, pushing him deeper into you, and he makes a home in the edge of your lips, his breath searing on your skin as he starts panting. He sets a steady, agonising pace— just fast enough to have you shivering and mewling in his arms but still slow enough to savour every bit of it; to make sure you’re sensing every inch and drag of his thick dick buried in your cunt, to get it wetter with each thrust of his hips.

As you synchronise your tongue sucking with the way he slams into you, he can’t help but moan loud into your mouth, and your stomach flips. He bucks reflexly, and you begin to move up and down his satiny shaft.

“Let me ride you, baby Evan,” you sigh with begging eyes and taunt him by pulling out momentarily to slick his head with your cum.

He clasps onto your hips again and lifts you up. That’s to slide his cock in and join your lips together once more before you get on top. You gasp, clutching the broad, sturdy expanse of his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him.

You begin to bounce on his cock, throwing your head back as he marvels at your breasts, your nipples hard from excitement and titillation. “Boobs for days, I’m the luckiest guy alive,” he cries out, grinning and biting down his lips as he grabs your tits in each hand, kneading the sensitive mounds.

He then levers his torso up so your breasts can jiggle against his chest, his hands behind supporting you on the small of your back. The squelching noises of you pussy mixed with your mutual moans echo through the room, and every time he drives his cock deeper into it, you feel new sensations, your entire body starting to shake in pure euphoria.

“Holy shit, you ride my cock like my little naughty slut,” he praises as his dick drills into you again and again.

“O-o-nly for you,” you stutter as you plop down on top of him with shallow groans. He smirks knowingly at you, his eyes drowning into yours. Running his fingers across your parted lips, he lets his hand and eyes glide along your upper half. With a hungry growl as if he can’t take it anymore, his hips begin to bounce into the air, making you lightheaded as he snaps into you even harder and faster.

“Don’t cum for your baby Evan just yet,” he pleads as he grabs onto your breasts again, circling his thumb and pointer finger around your erect nipples.

He releases your boobs and moves downwards to grab your thighs, using the leverage to flip you around so you’re on all fours. His hands rest lustfully between your neck and jaw as you look up at him with imploring eyes.

He clutches the back of your head, and your lips collide into a sloppy kiss before he stretches you out again with his impressive length. From that angle, your cunt eats up his cock hungrily as he soon begins to strike your cervix. You feel his cock jump inside you and his body jerks, his balls continuously slapping against your clit.

Your wailing sounds resonate in the room, his grip hardening on your hips and neck, and you know he’ll leave bruises but you couldn’t care less. You’ve never been fucked like this before, and you you’re now addicted. He works hard, drilling into you, until you feel the knot of your release stiffening.

Your legs quiver more as your orgasm rips and shudders through you with newfound potency, heightened by Evan unrelenting thrusts into you at his usual harsh pace.

Tears of overstimulation prickle your eyes until his hips finally still, and he spills his warm, fresh load onto you you with a primal growl. Collapsing lightly onto your back, he affectionately hugs you from behind, peppering soft kisses at the back of your neck with heaving gasps.

Your legs continue to shake as you tightly grip his forearm, your cunt spasming around his cock from the aftershocks of your multiple orgasms.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

“Perfect.” you exhale, smiling faintly, stealing another soft kiss.

The rest of the world fades away, leaving nothing but the two of you, lost in the outcome of pure passion.

You jump from the bathroom and flick off the light switch, the sound of the flushing toilet subsiding in the background. You stride across the dark room, vigorously shaking your hands dry. The moon’s silvery radiance seeps through the window and bathes your naked body, casting attractive shadows on your slender figure.

You stop by the bedside table and take a few sips of water. Lying in bed, a sheet draped around his lower body and exposing his sculpted chest, Evan spies your every move. In one fluid motion, he sits up with a coy grin on his lips, his gaze always following you.

“You scrubbed every last bit of me in the bathroom, huh?” he mocks with a thumbs up, his lips curling into a crooked smile.

You glance back at him with a smirk, your hair flipping in the air with grace. “Didn’t you take off the condom and splatter all over my thighs? Well, I had to clean your babies off me and pee to avoid a UTI. It’s post-sex 101, didn’t you learn that in school, Mr. Know-It-All?” you fire back with a raised eyebrow.

He chuckles, unable to resist his eyes wandering over you, appreciating your beauty. “I barely remember my name when I’m with you.”

You tiptoe your way to him, playfully sweeping the blankets and cushions that now clutter the floor. As you climb up the bed, a mischievous grin adorns your face. With your eyes locked on him, you begin to crawl like a lioness, closing the distance between you with allure.

His breath hitches as he watches you slither closer to him. Smiling mischievously, his eyes light up with a mixture of anticipation and passion.

He pretends to ponder over something, scratching his newly shaven chin, his eyes squinting in a mock display of deep thought. “Hmm, that’s a tough one. Give me a hint...like the initial?”

Your eyes widen in theatrical surprise, your mouth resting slightly ajar as you feign mock-offence. You nudge his shoulder away, gently sending him tumbling him back in bed.

You lie next to him, your eyes fixed on each other. You slide your hand down and playfully squeeze his knuckles together until he winces in slight discomfort. “Does it ring any bells now?” you insist and exert a bit more pressure.

Evan, caught off guard, finally gives in. “Y/N! Y/N! Your name’s Y/N!” he cries out and instinctively grips your wrist in defence, your bracelet subtly clinking.

He takes hold of your other wrist and playfully immobilises you on one of the pillows, sliding on top of you with ease.

You squeak in delight, a giggle rippling off your mouth. “You’re not just awesome, you’re practically a one-woman army,” he chuckles out with a wide grin, unable to look away from you.

As you stare at each other intently, the erratic tempo of your heartbeats fills the silence. “I love you,” he murmurs out of the blue, his eyes swimming into yours.

Wheezing quietly, your eyes instinctively widen in shock at the three words that hang in the air between them. For a moment, the entire universe seems to stand still, suspended in the gravity of his confession. You feel a rush of emotions flood through you—joy, disbelief, and a profound sense of warmth that flushes your cheek.

“I... I love you too,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. A tremulous smile spreads across your lips, tears glistening in your eyes as he closes the distance between you in a heartbeat.

Without reluctance, you surrender, pouring all the love and tenderness you feel into the kiss.

“Y/N... Tron shoot’s kicking off again soon. Would you come to Canada with me?”

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

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bulbagarden · 9 months

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merry holidays, trainers!! quick bulba psa:

when accessing bulbapedia or our forums, you may have noticed a cloudflare connection checker thingy displaying before you get to your destination! that's normal! tldr we were getting some strange traffic recently and it was really making the site lag, so additional temporary protection was put into place in order to stop that. once more backend stuff happens it should be fully okay, but thanks for bearing with us! o7

#ddosed(??) on christmas... what a Story lol..#bulbagarden #bulbapedia

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queenofwhoredom · 7 months

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I love how every time someone asks for my IG, I always have to justify myself on why I don’t have an IG account. People’s reactions often go from “oh wow”, to “why” and finally “but how do you communicate with people then?”. I think in way this is also very scary as people believe it is acceptable to get access to a part of your life without actually making the effort to really get to know you. I think gaining access to one’s life is a matter of effort, time and dedication. It is actually a privilege to get to know someone, and I do think we should sanctify the act of getting to know someone. People ask for your socials without even asking about your favourite colour, your favourite holiday destination nor the name of your dog first (sometimes nor even your name lol).

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malereader-inserts · 2 years

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Sic Mundus Creatus Est

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Remus Lupin & Son!Reader | Harry Potter x Male!Reader Summary: sic mundus creatus est - thus the world was created Word Count: 10,884 A/n: Kinda a reimagining of "broken crown"!reader but in a one-shot :) This is a long one tbh

You knew from a young age that you were a special case of magic. Knowing early on that you were a descendant of Merlin, from the courtesy of Dumbledore. No one really knew if there was anyone of Merlin's blood, many thought he never had children and his line died with him, but that was very untrue.

When you were five, Dumbledore started arriving at your doorstep. Every first day of the month, he would visit the family home and your mother would always be there to greet him. From a young age, you knew you bore the powers and responsibility of Merlin - to explore the world and finish any of his unfinished businesses.

You were advanced for your age and when you entered Hogwarts, you excelled in third-year content, however, at the request of your mother, you were to be kept in the same year and not skip years to avoid questions - especially with the threat of the dark lord looming above everyone. Your dad had no idea about your true nature, your reason for life, he was kept in the dark about everything.

It was easy to keep things away, your father never liked to stay in one place and your parents weren't married. He would often come to stay during the holidays so he could be a part of your life. In your first year, you made friends with the trio, being a part of Harry's adventure whilst living your own.

During the first year, you unlocked Merlin's cursed vaults. Well, at least three of them - out of the six. You were the only one who could access it and had the brain to unlock it. During the second year, you opened the last three, and from that moment Dumbledore knew you were a formidable wizard.

That was when Hermione, Harry and Ron found out you were Merlin's descendant, destine to finish his work. They were, at first, wary about it - they didn't know if you were just joking but when you started to reveal little things about the curse vault rumours and your magic spells that were definitely not going to be in the curriculum.

"That's bloody brilliant," Ron excitedly praised you, "Do you think you could teach us that stuff?"

You shrugged your shoulders, "It's pretty advanced stuff, Ron..." You trailed off, scratching the back of your head, "But, you three have to promise me that you won't tell anyone about it. Not unless, it comes from me, got it?"

"But-"

"Potter! No!"

At the end of summer, your mother was killed in an attack. It was unknown who did it and many, especially Dumbledore, suspect it was the death eaters who managed to avoid jail. Dumbledore wanted to keep you safe, you were stronger and smarter than most wizards and you were just thirteen.

When you got on the train to Hogwarts, you weren't expecting your dad to be on there as well. When he expelled the dementors, he gives you a wink - which made you smile.

"He seems like a nice professor," Hermione commented as Remus closes the door, there was silence in the carriage as Harry recompose himself.

"Hey, (Y/n), what's your plan?" Ron asked finally as Hermione smacks him, "Ow! I'm only asking!"

"Something tragically happens to one of our best friends and you immediately ask him about it? It only happened last week!" Hermione scowled as Harry looked at you inquisitively, of course, Harry was left in the dark about it - even meeting the Weasley and Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron.

"My mum was killed last week, Harry," You softly say, looking outside to take in the view, "They say it's...you know who's people, but we- I mean I couldn't care less."

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," Harry replied as your other two friends silently give you looks of encouragement, "What about your dad?"

"Dad doesn't know yet, I haven't had the chance to tell him, really, he seems to be a bit preoccupied with being the new defence the dark arts professor."

"That's your dad?" Hermione screeches, you didn't know whether out of excitement or surprise, "Why didn't you say something?"

You shrugged your shoulders, "Just a lot on my mind," You hummed, watching Hermione regret her words, "It's fine, honestly, I'll be fine."

"You watch your own mother die," Harry emphasised as Remus opens the carriage door, "You don't have to pretend to be fine."

Remus cleared his throat, his eyes sharply on you as you look like you wanted the floor to swallow you whole.

"Nice one, Potter," You muttered, as Harry sheepishly smiled at you, "Hi dad... I guess we have a lot to catch up on..."

Yet, even with Remus in the castle. You and Dumbledore had agreed not to inform him about your heritage, only a few knew and you know that Remus would not take it lightly in the future.

After your mother's death, you stayed with your dad or the Weasley over the holidays. You had become closer to your dad, which was to be expected. You were thrilled that Remus was more active in your life, but you felt bad. You knew of Remus' condition since you could remember and you felt terrible keeping secrets away from him. How he would often see you leaving Dumbledore's office, and he wanted to ask badly but he didn't want to overstep the line.

As months went by, you were extremely close with your dad. It was almost as if he had been in your life from the beginning. After the Tri-wizard tournament, you had arguments with Dumbledore.

"You don't look happy," Harry commented, you sighed, flopping on your bed, "What did Dumbledore want?"

"I can't say, Harry," You apologise profusely, before burying your head into the pillow, "All in due time, you trust me right, Potter?"

You didn't want to unload onto Harry about the arguments with Dumbledore, especially after the fact that Cedric just died. But, truth be told, you knew that everything was going to spill. You knew from the moment Remus told you that you would be living in the Orders' base.

You were there gathered by the members and the children, upon their first meeting. They explained what they are and the children weren't allowed in these meetings and cannot ask any questions. But, as Dumbledore dismissed the kids to go back to their rooms in Grimmauld Place, he asked you to stay.

"I would like a moment with (Y/n) if you would please."

You shot your dad a "help me" look, but you know he couldn't. He gives you a reassuring smile, whilst your uncle Sirius gives you the thumbs up of encouragement. You turn to look at your headmaster, sighing as you prepare yourself for an argument.

"I think we both know it's the time," Dumbledore started as you rolled your eyes, "People will find out in due time but I think it's time to show your dad and the Order the true you."

"Is that all I am to you?" You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, "You are really despicable," Looking at your headmaster with such distaste, "I'm not a soldier, you know that?"

"But, you can help to the cause, your strength and your knowledge can help us protect Harry, is that not what you wanted?"

You wanted to sneer at your headmaster, using Harry as an excuse, knowing full well the two of you were in a relationship with each other was just low. You've had this talk more times than you'd liked.

"Don't you dare use Harry against me," You shouted at Dumbledore, who sat down as you were standing, "I'm not some, some-"

Remus from the kitchen could hear your voice, loud but incoherent. The adults shared a look, they had quietened down upon hearing your voice, before they were having conversations to distract them from thinking about this meeting.

"I wonder what that's about," Sirius mumbled, as Remus nodded, his eyes staying on the door that had you and Dumbledore behind it, "It doesn't sound fun at all."

The door slams open with Dumbledore entering first and then you behind, looking furious. The order stood up abruptly at the presence of Dumbledore, but you looked like you weren't done shouting at him.

"Are you mad?" You shouted, Remus grabs your shoulder to stop you from lunging at Dumbledore, Sirius on your other shoulder, sensing hostility.

"You agreed, Mr Lupin."

"Yeah! When I was bloody nine and I didn't know any better, but, now...I refuse," You exclaimed, shoving your father and uncle off you as if they weren't strong enough to hold you back, "I'm not some pawn in your game, I could die!"

Dumbledore looks at you, the adults were afraid to talk as they looked at each other before their attention settled back on the fuming fifteen-year-old. You huff, throwing your hands up in the air and you splutter incoherent words.

But, somehow you managed to calm down. You run your hand through your hair. Your mind was racing and the only thing that was calming you down was the comforting hand of your dad.

"He will want you, and he won't stop until he does. He will want you just as much as Harry," Dumbledore explained, but the older members still didn't understand, "You must promise me that you will not go to the dark lord's side."

"But, you want me to be your spy? Isn't it obvious?" You asked, there was a bitter tone within your voice.

"I'm sorry, but what?" Remus cuts in, almost offended to not be in this plan, "Not my son, Dumbledore."

"I'm terribly sorry, Remus, but what must be done should be done."

"He's just a boy!" Molly and McGonagall cried out, even Snape was surprised at this new information, looking at this great wizard as if he went mad.

"Even, I think this is all mad, Dumbledore," Alastor chided as you were thinking about your options.

You finally sighed in defeat, sinking down on a chair as the adults argue about you. You hadn't seen your dad so riled up before, it was a first to see his anger. His anger to protect you, but deep down, you know no one was ever going to be strong enough to protect you.

You looked around and see the people that Harry cared about so dearly, sacrificing themselves to make sure he will not be touched by the dark lord. Looking down at your hands, knowing full well you're going to be the one protecting Harry's loved one.

"I'll do it," you softly say, the words barely escaping your lips as they adults stop their shouting to look at you.

"No, I won't allow this," Remus declared, you smile at him, though he could tell that you were defeated by this topic, "You're my son, none of the kids are allowed to help so why should you? You're no better at defending yourself as the next kid in this house!"

"I'm sorry, dad," you apologise, your eyes softening as you gaze upon him, "Dumbledore is right, once everyone knows who I am... it's only a matter of time."

"What are you on about?" Sirius asked, confused as you look up to your headmaster.

He slowly nodded to you, "(Y/n) will be joining our Order meetings, as much as you do not like nor accept it he is an important asset."

"Your plan is to get him killed!" Molly exclaimed, she was a mother first before being a soldier for Dumbledore, "I will not have any children-"

"The daily prophet will get headline news about me, and from there Voldemort will try to recruit me," You continued from Dumbledore, watching the adults look upon you with interest, "After all, if he's able to get Merlin's descendant on his side, he'll be invincible."

"Merlin's beard," Arthur breathes out in awe, "I've heard rumours that Merlin's back, I- I wouldn't have thought- how, why?"

Remus slumps down in the empty chair next to him, adjacent to you. He was speechless as you looked at him with worry.

You didn't want your dad to think ill of you. But, you know he has every right to be angry. You had lied and kept this secret away from him and now you're announcing a suicide mission. It was all too much for him, he couldn't even look you in the eyes.

"Look, I don't know much about why or how Merlin gave me his knowledge and powers, but," You hesitated, unable to find words, "I want to help out as much as I can, even if nine-year-old me didn't know what you fully meant."

The first meeting was primarily awkward and silent. You explained your whole life story to them, how you have bestowed Merlin. Whilst they understand that you can be terrifying in your own way, all they can see is a boy. A terrified boy.

Remus didn't look at you for a week, he didn't speak to you for two. Your heart was breaking, and you cried yourself almost every night. The news of you spread like wildfire, just as you expected. You don't know how Dumbledore got the information out, but there was no backing out now.

Remus finally mustered up the courage to talk to you, after Sirius knocked some sense into him that he couldn't and shouldn't abandon his child when you need him most. He finds himself alone in the drawing room, reading a book as the piano plays softly in the background. Remus takes in the scene, surprised that you somehow enchanted the piano to play.

"Ministry is dumb, you know," you say, your eyes never leaving the page of your book, "They can only detect wand magic for people under the trace, nothing is said about wandless or wordless spells."

"Impressive," Remus replied truthfully before coming towards you. You looked heavily invested in your book, though when he stands behind you, all he can see is a blank page.

"Merlin's code, a spell he made to see all his other works. A precaution to prevent his work from falling into the wrong hands," You explained, you were avoiding the subject, both of you knew it, but both of you didn't know how to approach the subject, "I heard about Harry..."

"Yes, the order is planning a rescue mission."

"I assume you'll be going?" Finally looking up over to him as he nods, you sighed, knowing that you weren't going to stop him, "At least I'll know both you and he will be back safely."

"Actually, they want you to come along," Remus says as you raised an eyebrow, "Mad-eye wants to know your whole, um, you know, powers."

You nodded, and there was a beat of silence as you look back down at your book. The room quickly filled with awkward yet hostile silence, you wanted to squirm under your dad's eyes.

"I'm not mad anymore," Remus started, clearing his throat, though you'd do anything to avoid his eyes contact, so he sat down in the seat adjacent to you, "I'm just worried that's all, and I have every right to be, (y/n), you're my son, my boy."

"You think I want to be dragged into this?" You finally asked, slamming your book closed, "I don't really have a choice in this."

"I know," Remus says tentatively, placing a gentle hand upon your shoulder, as you gaze into his soft eyes, "I'm just terrified for you."

After a while, you were dismissed from the recuse mission with many order members voting against you. You sighed in relief, as the meeting continued. Every time you would leave the meeting, the children would surround you asking about it.

"Guys! I can't say," You exclaimed, lying back in your bed.

"It's worth the shot," Fred says as George smirks, you rolled your eyes as all of you went downstairs for tea.

You watched the children happily talk to other Order members and not ask about the whole meeting. You found yourself playing with your food, not feeling hungry. You abruptly stand up and leave the table, some people watching you leave. You were barely seen for the rest of the week, only reappearing when you went to bid your dad good luck.

You couldn't even say hello to Harry upon arrival, as Dumbledore was starting the meeting. Most of the time, you're quiet during the meetings - you had no other contributions to the meeting, so you didn't want to say anything in a place that you're not invited to. Usually, you're squished between Remus and Sirius, almost as if they had an unspoken protection pact over you.

As the meeting concluded, you could hear loud noises in the hallway You went up and investigated to see Harry and the rest, who had disturbed Walburga's portrait. You watch on as Sirius and Remus was attempting to pull the curtains, you move over and placed your hand upon the portrait.

Soon, enough her voice dies down, and everyone watched in amazement to see her moving and attempting to talk - however, no noise was coming out.

"Couldn't have done that sooner?" Hermione chastise as you rolled your eyes.

"Hello Harry," Sirius composes himself, "I see you’ve met my mother."

The reunion was more bitter than you liked. You couldn't really give your boyfriend a loving welcome, especially since the fire in his eyes wasn't dying down. He was getting riled up that he couldn't join the Order, you even shouted at him whilst Sirius and Molly were bickering.

After his hearing, Harry started to be open with you. Most of the days, you spent yourself in isolation, reading mostly. Oftentimes, you would be joined by Hermione or even Remus. But, as Harry was once starting to warm up to you, the pair of you were found screaming at each other. Remus grabs you whilst Sirius grabs Harry.

"What's going on, boys?" Molly asked, sweetly, it seems like you created a crowd, "You two haven't-"

"Broken up?" You replied, sneering at Harry, who looked like he wanted to fight you, "Oh, dear sweetheart - what are we?"

Your tone had enraged Harry so much, he managed to wriggle out of Sirius' hold and landed a right hook right in the cheek. Soon enough, you managed to get out of your dad's hold and retaliated. It took about five minutes to rip the two of you away.

Harry managed to land better with his hands, a part of you inside knew that Harry had the right to be angry and it's why you didn't fight as much. You swat your dad's hands away, fixing your clothes as Harry stops fighting against the twins.

"Tell them," Harry spat, your eyes hardening as you felt two pairs of hands holding you back once again, "Go on tell them!"

You say nothing.

"Fine, I'll tell them! (Y/n) did the unbreakable vow!" Harry announced as eyes all fall on you, "With Dumbledore."

"When?" Remus says, using one of his hands that were gripping your wrist to cup your cheeks tightly and make you look at him. Remus looked furious with you, "WHEN?"

"Last day of Hogwarts," You spat, pain stretching from your cheeks at your dad's tight grip.

"Have you gone mad?" Molly roared at you as you finally stop your struggle, you felt Sirius' hands loosen and then completely disappear. But Remus still had a grip on you, "A death sentence!"

"A few weeks ago you were shouting at Dumbledore that whatever you two had planned was a suicide mission!" Sirius exclaimed behind you, "Unless you two have been planning this for weeks?"

"Tell me what was said," Remus demands from you, but your hardened gaze does not drop.

"Fuck you," You spat, headbutting your dad as you ran up to one of the bedrooms. Locking yourself from the rest of the house, panting in relief as you weren't able to be caught by other household members.

The last few days leading up to the return of school, were fairly quiet, not that you liked it. But, you had the oath to uphold. Dumbledore was quickly informed about you, and whenever Order meetings occurred, before he leaves - he would come to your door. You would unlock it and lock it behind Dumbledore, and no one knew what the two of you were saying.

The first two days, since you locked yourself, you did not come out of the room. Molly would knock on the door and leave quickly, and every time she would leave a tray of food for you. The first meal, you didn't touch, but as the day progressed, you were eating little by little. By the third day, Molly found herself an empty tray in front of the locked bedroom.

"He's eating at least," Molly reassured Remus.

Remus was not doing good, after his initial anger, it turn to worry. His anger lasted a bit too long for Remus' liking, but he had every right to be. He knew that you knew that as well, but as a dad, he couldn't help but think about what you were up to on the other side of the door. Molly has tried to cheer him up, that it was just usual teenage angst and it was just a phase.

But, everyone knows that it wasn't just teenage angst. Remus had found himself knocking on the door, attempting to reconcile with you. Though, there was nothing back. Harry started to feel guilty, in fact, he didn't know whether you two had broken up, especially after the fight. He, too, found himself trying to talk to you from behind the door.

"I love you," You could hear him say, but you rolled your eyes.

You finally emerged when it was time to get to King's Cross. Everyone was downstairs, chatting loudly as you stood at the top of the stairs. Mad-eye looked around, hoping for someone to show up.

"Sturgis isn't here yet!"

It was chaotic as hell, as you slowly descend the stairs before Fred and George wrapped their arms over your shoulder.

"It's alright, (Y/n) is here!" Fred bellowed loudly as you sighed, eyes landing on you - you really had to get used to this.

"And (Y/n) makes up three people in the Order," George cheekily continued as you rolled your eyes.

"I guess it'll do," Moody nodded, before delegating which child goes with what Order member.

You managed to escape being paired with Harry or being with your dad as you travel with Moody, there wasn't much talk between the two of you and you two were the first to arrive. You had twenty minutes before the trains leave as you see one by one the group appearing.

"Congrats on prefects," You say to Hermione and Ron, they looked at you before smiling back at you.

Hermione jumped on you, engulfing you in a hug, "I've missed you."

"I haven't-"

"Shut up," Hermione says, as you looked at her confusingly, before accepting her hug knowing she won't let go of you, "You're a bumbling idiot, honestly!"

"It's been quiet without you," Ron admitted as Hermione got immersed in a conversation with Ginny, "Harry was a bit moody."

"Then, you wouldn't have enjoyed my presence."

A bell was sounded, calling for the last ten minutes before the train leaves. You watch the Weasleys say goodbye to their parents as you looked a bit lost. You turned away and were faced by your dad, he looked at you, with soft eyes - understanding. You couldn't help but crash into him for a hug.

"I'm sorry," You mumbled into his chest as you hugged him tightly, he hugged back just as tight, "I'm a terrible son!"

"No," Remus reassured you, rubbing your back, he knows you're almost in tears, "You're not a terrible son."

He pulls out of the hug, hands on your shoulders - gentle yet firm. He looks into your eyes, which were threatening to spill tears.

"I have to accept there are things that cannot be said. I hope one day, you'll be able to tell me everything. I trust your judgement, okay?" You shakily nod as he places a kiss upon your head of hair, "Now get onto the train before you miss it."

Fifth year for you was a rollercoaster for you. Harry and you made up, but put a pause on the relationship. It broke the two of you but it was for the best. Though, Harry was getting suspicious by the day, your personal mission was to keep an eye on Draco and track down his family. It was easy, unfortunately.

As the next coming of Merlin, you were already sending letters back and forth with the Malfoys, attempting to recruit you to their side. You got details and were reporting them to Dumbledore, you knew that this was the easy part of your mission. You were in for a long run. But, nevertheless, you were always by Harry's side, lover or not. You assist him in teaching the newly founded group known as Dumbledore's Army. The group always were in awe at your advanced magic. You were practically ready to graduate.

You armed your friends with attack and defence spells, basic ones at least. You knew that they weren't ready for other spells. Despite suspicions that you were going to the dark side, that did not stop Umbridge from giving you detention - mostly because of your dad.

You defended your dad at any given moment, Hermione had to talk you out of fighting Umbridge once and even Ron suggested trying and not talking to her. Remus was updated about it by letters from Harry, Remus was touched but was horrified about the abuse.

"I'm telling you, Potter, it's a bad idea, don't you have the mirror?"

Harry was determined that Sirius was held captive, and despite your protest, you followed him. You didn't expect yourself to be defending your friends in the ministry. At this point, all your friends were injured, and you used your wandless magic to move them from harm's way.

Harry had your back, not much he could do to defend you, but you were holding yourself quite nicely. You watched as Neville drops the prophecy and Harry reassured him it was fine, that he needed to move Neville out of the fight. Soon enough, you see a wisp of white, watching Order members apparate in and quickly fight back.

You watch as Bellatrix's eyes widen at the sight of her cousin. Before she could muster any words, you blasted a spell her way, as you cause a push of wind towards Sirius into Harry.

"Dumbledore!" Neville shouted his presence.

But you paid no attention as you make a break for it with Bellatrix hot on your heels, casting spells upon the chase, whilst you fire back.

"(Y/n)!" Harry exclaimed following closely behind.

"Neville, where's the rest of you guys?" Remus asked, itching to follow his son as well, but he saw Dumbledore race as well after the three of you.

Neville pointed to the rest of the gang, protected by your dome of a shield. Though the magic was still holding up, Sirius helps Moody and Tonks before standing with the rest of the group.

"This shield," Kingsley commented, poking it with his wand, "Strong despite distance and his multitasking."

"I guess we found out his power, Moody," Sirius says, "Bloody powerful, no wonder Dumbledore wants him fighting."

"He shouldn't be," Remus hissed, failing an encantation to release the rest of the kids from the shielf dome, "He's still a kid."

"Sixteen and able to take on about ten death eaters at once," Sirius pointed out, placing a hand on his best friend's shoulder, "I think we both know he saved my life there."

Suddenly, the shield disappears, and the children release but injured. Suddenly, the scratches and spells they'd taken had started to reverse.

"(Y/n), he's healing us," Hermione cries out before scrambling up, "we have to find them!"

Quickly, the group moved to find the rest of the battle. Upon scene, they see Harry on the floor with Dumbledore by his side, Voldemort looming over Harry. On the other side, there was a limp body, guarded by Bellatrix. When Voldemort realised there was a crowd forming he apparates away with Bellatrix.

Some were quick to run to Dumbledore and Harry, but others ran to you. Remus' heart slowly breaks upon your state, he hastily finds a pulse on you, sighing in relief when he finds one.

"He's alive."

You spent days in the hospital, recovering, which meant you weren't in a state of consciousness. Remus stayed by your side as much as he could, Sirius was there if Remus wasn't, thanking you each time for saving his life. Harry found himself by your side if no one was by your side. He wished you woke up soon, all he felt was guilt that you almost died.

When you wake up, you're alone. Madam Pomfrey was quick to alert people who would be interested in you. The first to see you were Harry, Hermione and Ron, who were all ecstatic to see you awake.

"Are you okay, Harry?" You asked, eyes comforting to Harry. Harry just hugs you instead, you were taken aback at the sudden affection, "Oh, Potter, you're not going soft are you now?"

He managed to laugh as Ginny, Luna and Neville greeted you, apologising to you for burdening you in protecting them. You waved them off with your bandaged hand. Soon, Remus and Sirius appeared, with Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall right behind them.

"You gave us a right scare, Mr Lupin!" Dumbledore says, you could only give him a sarcastic look back. Remus was quick to be by your side again.

Pulling you into a side hug and kissing your hair, "Thank god you're okay."

"We thought you died!" Sirius says dramatically, before looking serious for a second, "I know you're terrifyingly strong and that, but don't be testing death like that."

"Oh, Sirius," you hummed, tilting your head slightly almost menacingly, "Death can have me when it earns me."

The Order didn't really want to mess with you in the first place, but when you utter those words, shives ran down everyone's spine. What Sirius and Remus caught on is that you weren't staring at Sirius when you spoke of death, in fact, you made eye contact with Dumbledore.

Harry was a lot closer to you after the first battle that had awoken Britain that the Dark Lord returned, you didn't know if it was because you almost died or because you saved one of the few living family he had left. Nevertheless, it was nice to have Harry by your side, though that happiness didn't stay when he realised he couldn't stay with Sirius.

"This is utter-utter..."

"Think the word you're looking for, Potter, is shit. It's utter shit."

Harry rolls his eyes, replying with a snarky tone, "Thanks, (y/n)."

Your summer was eventful, to say the least, you spent some days repairing the relationship with your dad. It was hard, you wanted to tell him everything be he understood that you were bound by a vow. You got a lot closer to Sirius, who enjoyed your company, calling you the miniature version of Remus just a lot cooler. You watched as your dad and Tonks were dancing around each other, you don't really want to touch that topic.

Other times, your days were spent in Order meetings, where your opinion started to become valuable to them. They wanted your input, and your opinions and a part of you were relieved that they accepted teenagers in this group. You filled your summer saying no a lot.

"Can you teach me-?" Hermione started as you give her a pointed look, "Not even like a little bit?"

"Hermione, please indulge me in how I can teach you a bit?" You asked eyebrow raised as Remus stifled a laugh behind his own book, whilst Sirius loudly snorted, "My hands are tied, I cannot."

"It was worth a shot," Hermione grumbled, before patting your head with her own book, "Budge over."

Ron came into the kitchen, with the Twins following, looking excitedly but Ron looked more apprehensive.

"You three better not be nagging (Y/n)!" Molly exclaimed as she begins to cook dinner for everyone, "I'm sure he's sick of all of you."

"They humour me," You answered honestly, you waved Molly off, eyes never leaving the letters on the paper.

"Well, I was just curious, I don't want you to teach me anything, but-"

Your eyebrow raised as you sat up, closing your book slowly. Your attention is fully on Ron, who squirms under your attention. Your mere movements caused everyone to look at the scene before them.

"I heard Melin has his own spells, well, they're yours now. But... I was just wondering what are his- I mean, your most brutal spells, that you've mastered, if you don't mind me asking."

You smirked, leaning back in your seat, "I'm glad you asked, Ron, and I'm going to preface this that I will not be teaching anyone these."

"Not like we can do them in the first place," Fred commented as George nodded.

"You're practically invincible, mate," George finishes, "But, go on, tell us then!"

"Blood bending, granted it's not perfected," You started off, tapping your chin as Hermione's eyes widen, "What?"

"That's what you start on? That you can bend the flow of blood in someone?"

"I said I haven't perfected it!"

"Still!" Hermione exclaimed as you chuckled at her, "You haven't got it mastered, have you?"

"Let's say I hope you're not in the same room as the victim," You replied easily, before quickly adding, "I haven't killed anyone by the way."

The sixth year had seemed to be a rollercoaster, whilst you were eyeing up on Draco - which, he had turned for your help in serving the Dark Lord. It seems like he could only trust him as you had not explicitly said whose side you were on, Voldemort was still eager to recruit you despite the encounter at the end of last year.

"Draco, you know I can't," You replied, leaning against the wall, looking around to see if anyone was listening in, "I'm not going to stoop to your level."

"I rather think you beneath that level, you're still helping me," Draco hissed at you, though you looked unbothered, "Aren't you?"

"And every little plan you've done has failed, I wasn't the one who became a death eater," You taunt as Draco refrains himself from knocking the everliving shit out of you, "But, since I am nice, I'll figure something out."

Draco sighed in relief, "I don't get why you can't just join our side, you fit right in."

You gave him a side eye and replied with a snarky tone, "I sure do."

You watched Hermione and Ron's relationship hit a hard patch, and you cringed at the pining looks. Not that you could say much, You and Harry were still on a pause in the relationship, though every day you two got closer and closer. You knew it was inevitable, but, you had to hold off a little longer.

"I think Draco is a death eater," Harry announced, looking at the men before him, "And I think Snape is helping him."

"I just think Snape is acting for Dumbledore," Arthur says, Remus nodded, chastising Harry from continuing the family prejudice against Snape.

"(Y/n)!" Harry says as you looked over to him, "Do you hate Snape."

"As much as the next person."

"Atta-boy!" Sirius cheered as Remus rolled his eyes.

"Do you think Snape is helping out Draco, Dumbledore is making a mistake?"

"Truth be told, Harry," You say as softly as you can, "I loathe Dumbledore, but you have to admit, the guy barely makes mistake. Snape could be helping Draco, who knows, but I don't think Snape is someone you should scrutinise."

The topic changed quickly, as you find out that Remus had been spending time with the other werewolves. You had to leave the room as you couldn't take the news.

"I knew he would react badly," Remus exhaled, watching you leave the room.

"I mean you reacted badly, remember last summer," Sirius reminded as Remus glared at him, Harry could only snort at the two adults.

As the night was closing in, Harry found you standing by a window. Looking outside, you noticed that Remus, Sirius and the Weasley parents were standing in the doorway, Remus sensing something was off.

"Are you alright?"

Before your eyes, you see a circle of flames lit in the dark night. Your eyes widen at the dark wisps of the death eaters. Your eyes locked in on Fenrir, who you quickly wanted to murder. You dashed down the stairs, pushing past all the adults as you chase after Bellatrix and Fenrir.

"(Y/n)!"

You no longer have the trace on you, so you have no qualms about having another duel.

"Lupin!" Fenrir snarled loudly, you were flickering between directions to find him, and you raced further into the field.

"(Y/n)!" You heard your dad in the distance as Harry comes crashing into you.

He stands on your six, as you started attacking the field, beams of white expelled from your wand, echos of whips of your wand. You held onto Harry's wrist, almost as if to reassure him that you had it under control. Suddenly, you see Arthur, Remus and Sirius joining you two in the fray.

"(Y/n)!" Remus breathes in relief as Sirius does the same with Harry.

The five of you stand on guard as you watch the death eaters start to apparate. Arthur quickly returned to his family, as you watched the Burrow get burnt down.

"Molly, please let me help rebuild, it's partially my fault," you begged the next morning, it was quiet other than your voice.

Molly merely smiled, "Perhaps, after you finish school," but you were not satisfied, as you sink further down in your seat before opening your mouth again, but Molly managed to intercept, "And I will not be accepting any money!"

"Hmph," You say in defeat, as Remus pats you on the shoulder, whilst Sirius snorted into his drink, you stuck your tongue out to him.

"Remus!" Sirius whines, "Your son is being mean!"

"He's your nephew," Remus replied quickly, acknowledging little as he continued to eat his breakfast whilst Sirius tried to splutter out that you were his godson, "He's your problem too."

"I'm not a problem!" You objected as you turn to look at your friends, "Am I?"

"Well..." Harry replied teasingly as you gasped in offence

"You wound me, Potter!"

It seems like you broke the ice as everyone returned to their jolly self, in time for Christmas as well. As the new year came, returning to Hogwarts, you couldn't help but be apprehensive. Draco has been giving you looks upon arrival, and you hadn't had a moment to be alone with him.

"You know, it's never late for you to turn around," You hummed as you accompanied Draco to the Room of Requirements.

Draco scoffs, "It is late."

You let a small noise out, "You could be a spy for the right side."

"How do you know who's on the right and wrong side?"

"Draco," you gently bumped his shoulder, "Think we both know whose the wrong side."

As time went on, you realised that this had been the most normal year for you, which made you feel nervous about the future. Every day you awoke with a sense of dread and couldn't figure it out. But, the puzzle pieces started to fit with each other when you had your last meeting with Dumbledore.

"Hang on, what?" You said in disbelief, standing behind Dumbledore, who stared off into the distance.

"It's for the best."

You groaned, rolling your eyes and running your hand through your hair, "It's always for the best, what if- what if it isn't?"

"That's why he has you."

"So, what, you're just gonna burden Harry with the responsibility? And I'm supposed to what? Guide him? I barely know shite all!"

Dumbledore gives you a stare as you sighed reluctantly. You knew he was right, he has told you more stuff about the cause than he has to Harry, and you've been a spy on Malfoys.

"So, I'm supposed to let you die?" Dumbledore looks at you silently, "Yeah, yeah, it's for the best. So, what do you want me to do?"

"Harry and I will return tonight, if you are correct about Draco allowing the break-in tonight then I need you to patrol the halls of Hogwarts. You must somehow get the message out to professors and the Order."

"Doesn't seem too hard."

"I must express this that no Order member comes here tonight," Dumbledore emphasised, as you huffed before nodding, "I would think you'd be more delighted at this news, it would mean that the vow will break."

"You have a lot of faith in me sticking to cause."

"Well, Mr Lupin, you'd do anything to protect the one you care most," Dumbledore complimented as you softly smile to yourself, "It's an admirable trait of yours."

You were correct, the break-in did happen. You watched as your school turned into a battlefield as you watched Order members and yourself duel against the infiltrators. You watch the fall of Dumbledore.

"Snape killed him," Harry announced as you turn to look away.

Harry explained why Dumbledore trusted Snape, after all this time, as your dad and Sirius almost looked furious. That this was the guy that allowed Snape because he was sorry for James' death.

You knew you couldn't say anything, that you knew that this was planned and why it happened. You shut your mouth as you tried to comfort Harry in the hospital wing. Watching Tonks and your dad has some wild heated discussion.

"You know, everyone deserves love," You mention loudly as Tonks look elated that you backed her up, even Remus had a small smile on his face whilst you looked at Harry, who, in turn, smiled that you referred to a potential rekindling of a relationship.

Hogwarts was chaotic, with professors running about, unsure how to proceed.

Harry leans onto you, you were always going to be there for him. He turns to you when he had theories and when he wanted to vent, you always had a listening ear. Some days, you found yourself cuddling Harry when he looks like he needed it, you saved all your affection for him. And out of respect, you attended Dumbledore's funeral

"Ready to leave Hogwarts, Potter?"

Harry merely nodded as you shut your trunk, you looked at him and open your arms. There he managed to bury himself into you as much as he could. You tighten your grip around him as you kissed his head of hair.

You had dreaded the months to come, the sense of dread had washed away for a day before returning. You knew that you couldn't leave Harry to find the Horcruxes by himself, you had no bound to a vow, so you were essentially free of doing whatever the fuck you wanted.

You didn't have to pretend to be interested in being a death eater, you didn't have to protect Draco anymore. You no longer have to restrain your full power anymore, you can breathe in freedom.

"I still don't think Sirius should come with us!" You say as everyone watches you argue with Mad-Eye, "It's already risky enough to bring Tonks, but if we do get ambushed, Bellatrix has it in for Sirius."

"I'm capable of taking care of myself!" Sirius argued as Mad-Eye nodded, "If it's any consideration, I'll take the poly portion."

Harry welcomes you to his home on the night before his birthday. A hug lasted longer between the two of you, before trailing everyone into the living space. After realising Harry had to go through with this plan, he sees which are paired up. He was very much appreciated that you were paired up with Sirius, knowing that you are there to protect him.

He didn't see much of the fight behind him as Harry went through the portkey. He got increasingly worst as everyone was returning and yet there was no sight of you.

Remus and he stand guard, despite Remus being very persistent in making Harry go inside and relax for a bit.

"I know you're worried, and so am I," Remus says, comforting to him, "I don't think I've seen Sirius so worked up."

The two men looked through the window to see Sirius pacing through the living room as Tonks and Arthur were trying to consolidate him.

"He thinks it's his fault, you know," Remus explains, "He got separated after fighting Bellatrix with Tonks, he thinks it's his fault for leaving (y/n)."

There was a snap in the distance and they see a figure approach them, they both had their wands out as the figure turned to be Moody.

"After the first order meeting, what did you say about my son?" Remus interrogated as Mad-Eye stared at him.

"I said, your son is up to no good and we had to keep an eye on him."

Remus lowers his wand as he tells Harry to inform everyone that Mad-Eye had finally turned up, but there was still no sight of you. Mad-Eye walks into the burrow with a sullen look on his face.

"They took (y/n)," Moody reported, gasp was heard around the living space, "Bellatrix managed to hit a stun spell when he wasn't looking, and one of the death eaters took him."

Harry was miserable, unable to get the thought of you out of his head. You had missed his birthday and the wedding, you missed taking off with Harry to find the Horcruxes. He missed you, everything about you. He felt so lonely without you, missing your comforting words and gentle affection.

Remus was tearing himself apart, all he could imagine is how badly you might be enduring. He didn't want to think about negative stuff, but his brain wouldn't let him think of happy memories. He knows Sirius is properly beating himself about it as well.

You missed Harry and Remus's argument, how Harry called your dad a coward for running, afraid of having another child. Both parties were glad you were not present for the fight as you would be disappointed in both of them.

There was nothing heard about you for months, before showing up unexpectedly in Godric's Hallow. Harry was in disbelief as he and Hermione engulfed you in a hug. You looked like you'd walked Hell and back every day, you had scars and you looked so worn down.

You camped with them after the Nagini fight, Harry sees all the scars that litter around your body. He sees discolouring around your ribs, your neck and wrists. Your lip was busted and you sported a black eye.

You didn't talk much about what happened as you continued to stick by them. Harry was constantly hovering over you and if not it would be either Ron or Hermione. Everything was holding up until you managed to wind yourself back into Malfoy Manor.

After doing Bellatrix's artwork on Hermione, she moves on to you, as you have been her favourite victim. You were already showing discolouring after the snatchers had a good beat down on you. Blood was already smeared on your face as she cuts into you.

Bill and Fleur came to rescue you from your injury, but you waved them off and told them you can handle it. You were upstairs when Remus makes a visit to Shell Cottage, sleeping off most of your injuries. Harry runs upstairs to wake you, ushering you downstairs.

Remus turns to hear the extra voice, his heart almost leapt out of his mouth as you come into view. He sighs in relief that you were alive as he engulfs you in a bear hug, pulling your head close to his chest. He leans out of the hug to see your state, his eyes darting back and forth, looking at all the scarred cuts and vile words cut into you. He cringe to see bruises on you, you looked absolutely drained.

"She had the baby!" Remus announced to everyone as you raised an eyebrow, confused at the news, your dad looked at you with bright eyes; "Tonks had a baby boy! He's called Teddy, (y/n), you're a brother."

"Blimey!"

You had to get back to the mission with Harry, you spent most days rebuilding your energy, after using the last on healing yourself - you were more sluggish. After resting for a few days at shell cottage, you ventured with the trio to Gringotts before sneaking into Hogwarts.

"(Y/n)," Harry calls out to you, as you turn to look at him, "Are there any more Horcruxes?"

"Why are you asking me all of a sudden?"

"Dumbledore trusted you with something, he must know about its whereabouts or what it is."

You shrugged your shoulders, crossing your arms over your chest, "He said something about his snake, there is a reason why he takes the thing with him everywhere he goes."

Harry nods, and he turns away before turning back to you. You let out a soft chuckle and tilt your head as he gazes at your warm smile. You can see his mind racing with a million different thoughts.

"I need to talk to you," Harry says as you shake your head.

"Later, Potter," You replied, letting out a heavy breath, "We'll talk later, after all this, okay? I know you have some burning questions for me."

Harry nods before running out of the Room of Requirements to follow a hunt on a different Horcrux. You turn around to look at half of Dumbledore's Army, and you tell one of them to contact the Order and anyone who can come.

"But, Harry said-"

"I know what Potter said, Hermione," You sighed, watching the hole in the wall for anyone willing fighters, "But, trust me, this is more than he bargained for."

Hermione nods as she and Ron run off to the chamber of secrets. You watched as the old Quidditch team flocked into the room, and you see the Weasleys come on after the other. You wait anxiously as you hear the bang of a stick come from the entrance; seeing Moody arriving with the rest of the Order.

"(Y/n)!" Sirius greeted, hugging you tightly and you chuckled gleefully "I see that death has not earned you yet."

"No, not at all," You say with a grin, hugging your old man as well.

Moody cast you a look with Kingsley smirking behind him. Remus gives you a pat on the shoulder as Sirius ruffles your hair. You give your dad a look.

"He still doesn't trust me, does he?"

Remus pulled a face, "Uh, why'd you think that?"

"Dad, you can drop the fake act, I've known since the first order meeting. He's not sublet as he thinks."

Soon enough, Harry comes barrelling into the Room of Requirements in amazement with the turnout but confused as to why there were more people than last time. You give him a knowing look.

"Voldemort is on his way, they're barricading the school," Harry announced, as there was a cheer from Dumbledore's army, "They're evacuating the young students and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall."

"Harry!" You called out before he can make a dash out again, you panted slightly as you were trying to keep up with him, "Be safe,"

"You're not coming with?" You looked behind you to see everyone making plans to get to the great hall, Harry nodded, understanding, "Okay, please be safe... I-I can't lose you."

You pause for a minute, "I love you too, Harry."

The adults started making battle plans for the school as the students, now soldiers, turn to them. You looked helpless as you see the order members throwing their opinions.

"You'll need a shield around the school," You say as you approach the discussion, they all stop to look at you, "It'll buy Harry time and enough time for us to man the school. We'll need fighters up in the sky - which I would assume Oliver wouldn't mind leading."

"I can do that," Oliver says, nodding, pride on his face, looking at his old team, who followed him as he went venturing for any quidditch players in the other houses.

You looked at Moody, his glare trying to shrink you down, you cleared your throat, "Moody and some of the Order take to the quad battlements."

Moody looks satisfied with your choice, as named members to follow Moody. You shot Remus a reassuring smile before mutely saying goodbye and turning to your head of the house.

"Professor, I'll need any willing professors to be stationed on school grounds - especially the viaduct, they'll attack all entrances at all points."

McGonagall nodded, "Then, Mr Finnigan I have a special task for you if you would follow me."

You quickly made your way up to the quad battlements, calling to the portraits of the castles to be the connection line to each army. As you finally reach the top, you were out of breath - mentally telling yourself if the school gets destroyed, you should install some sort of easier way to get to higher levels.

You hear the rumbles of thunder, and you see through the windows you quickly passed by, you see the dark grey clouds as the day draws to night. You couldn't tell whether you were controlling the weather subconsciously, if you were, it might be because you were filled with adrenaline. You reach the top to the quad battlement.

You see Moody, Arthur and Kingsley on one side, and on the other stood Sirius and Remus. You let out a heavy breath, causing the five men to turn around, you waved them off as you tried to catch your breath.

"(Y/n), what are you doing here?" Arthur asked, his face turning to worry quickly, "Nothing has-?"

"No," You shake my head, "The school needs me more than Harry right now, he has Ron and Hermione - they'll figure it out."

There was a beat of silence.

"Glad you're here with us," Moody broke the silence as you raised an eyebrow.

You wordlessly go over to your dad, who puts a firm hand on your shoulder. There was an unspoken conversation between the two of you, he worries for you. He doesn't want you to fight in this war, you've gone through enough, but he knows there is nothing stopping you.

As the war began, you were buzzing with adrenaline, and you were grinning ear to ear. The order members who snuck looks your way was taken aback that they could see the hunger for blood, it didn't bode well for them, yet they were thankful you were on their side. They couldn't comprehend how you were eager, they heard about your endeavours in the past months.

You were tortured, beaten down, and exhausted - yet, your body language and demeanour didn't show that. They had lost you as death eaters raided your station, you were battling fiercely, conjuring Merlin's spells left and right. There was a look of darkness within your eyes and any death eater that appeared in your path - you were their last regret.

They underestimate your power and you grin as you murder or maim them. They regret challenging them as you set them up for their demise. However, you were so consumed by your hunger you almost missed Dolohov attempting to murder your father, you felt energy underneath the floors travelling towards you as you snapped your head towards that direction, only to be met with Dolohov wanting to deliver a killing blow.

You swished your wand and your father watched Dolohov look panicked before his eyes slowly staggered towards you. Remus followed his sight and saw you standing there, inching closer and closer as you walked menacingly towards them; Ignoring any death eater running towards you as you waved them off with your hand - magically tipping them off the tower. Remus looks back to Dolohov, whose skin is slowly drained of colour - he attempts to catch his breath before ultimately he takes his last one.

With one last flick of the wand, Dolohov was no longer under your spell as he came crashing down onto the floor without life in his eyes. Your demeanour changes as you reach your dad, holding your hand towards him.

"You okay?" You asked him softly, he looked at you almost scared and yet confused.

"Am I? (Y/n), please don't tell me that was blood-bending you just did." Remus says as you look at him wordlessly.

You shrugged your shoulder, "I honestly don't know what you want me to say."

Remus sighs before chuckling as he brings you in for a hug, you chuckle back as you hugged him tightly. He strokes your hair, he doesn't know whether or not he was attempting to comfort you or himself. He hadn't seen you for so long, and the last time was an hour of visit where you and he had hardly interacted since everyone was asking him how Tonks was.

He hadn't had the time to check up on you, if you were okay, you were just hurled into being a commander, and you were expected to fight. You separate from the hug, Remus noticed now that standing before him was a man. You were almost, if not, at the same height as him - you looked weathered down, almost giving wise vibes from you. Stood before him, was a man, who was wise and powerful.

"Do you think you guys have up here covered?"

"Y-yeah," Remus stammered out, wanting to be selfish and asking you to stay with them.

You joined Harry at the start of the one-hour armistice. After Harry knew that the people closest to him were alright. Fred was one of the few that were heavily injured. Alive, but injured - Harry was grateful to see him, seeing he almost witness his death if not for you being there. He saw Tonks in the great hall, leaning on Remus. She looked fine, a bit frazzled, but overall fine.

She had been filling in Remus and Sirius that she had run into you as you made your way down to find Harry. You had provided distraction as she could sneak away from Bellatrix's rage. But, after returning from the boat house, Harry came to find you.

"Let me come with you," You softly say, your forehead against his as you stood with him on the grand staircase.

"I can't let you, you have to stay here with everyone," Harry replies just as softly, his grip tightening around you, "If- if everything goes well, you are the one to kill him."

"What's going on?"

You turn to see Hermione and Ron at the bottom of the stairs, you sighed as you rip yourself away from the grips of Harry. As Harry walks to his death, it leaves you and your best friends.

"I want to be alone, right now."

"(Y/n)."

"Please."

You didn't know how you managed to end up fighting Voldemort, but you were. In your mind, you had to avenge Harry's death. Adrenaline was pumping through your blood. Remus was watching on the sidelines, anxious. Many of the order members watch in anticipation., whilst the professors had a go with Voldemort, you were battling him by yourself.

You were the power of three experienced wizards, and the order had no idea if you were more than that. Voldemort was getting frustrated as you were taunting him, verbally, laughing and the look in your eyes of determination.

Harry watched under the cloak at bother battles before him. Wildly impressed that Molly had delivered the final blow to Bellatrix. He watches how Voldemort screams in fury, sending a powerful blow towards you - flinging you back into the crowd.

The final battle between Harry and Voldemort lasted minutes, as the war dies down. There were two people looking for you, but it was Harry who could really figure out where you could be hiding. His nerves were bubbling in his stomach as he reaches the Merlin portrait. Harry was met with a letter.

As Harry returns to the great hall, he is met by your dad.

"He's gone," Harry says, almost defeated, "He left."

Harry hands him your letter as he meets with his best friends outside. Remus reads the words you have written to him and Harry. How you have to embark on a quest for Merlin. You have unfinished business, you were stepping up in the role Merlin has created for you.

Remus wanted to hate you.

He wanted to be selfish, he wanted you to be back home, somewhere he knows you'll be safe. But, Remus loved you too much and he was always going to be there for you. You tell him to focus on himself, and take care of Teddy whilst you're gone, and Remus will tell stories of you.

Harry will wait for you, you promise to come back to him. He was excited to start a new chapter with you; he wanted to be your boyfriend again. But, Harry will wait for you.

Years had passed by, and there was still no sight of you. But, in the years between, you were always there to remind them you were alive and around. Hogwarts got a hefty sum of money to repair the school, as did the Weasleys' burrow. You had promised Molly you will help replay for damages that you caused in the winter of 1996, though you knew you will get a right earful from Molly that the money you sent was enough to renovate the whole burrow to her heart's content.

You send a birthday present to Teddy, your dad and Harry every year without a fail, it was to let them you that you were always thinking about them. The group had started to think you knew everything, what they were doing and whenever they feel lonely or sad - they think of you. Both your friends and order members, think about how you are alone, how you are much braver than they are.

The thought of you was encouraging to them.

You returned home after five years. You heard about the retirement party for Moody, you just had to be there. The party was held at the burrow.

"Bloody hell, is that Merlin I see?" Fred says, looking off into the distance to see walking toward them with a new pet on your shoulder.

The group turns to see you arguing with your Niffler as your Demiguise hangs off your other arm. This wasn't a teenager anymore, that wasn't the eighteen-year-old they last saw. This was a man aged twenty-two, with a confident stance. You were different now, some of your locks had turned grey, and your body was littered with tattoos - some moved and some didn't.

Everyone thought it would be Remus or Harry first to greet you, but instead, it was your little brother who was intrigued by these magical creatures.

There were hugs given to each person; people didn't miss how your voice had changed - it was rough around the edges and slightly deeper. People noticed how you were taller and there was a look in your eyes that says you've seen everything you wanted and things that you did not. It was Remus and Harry who hugged you the tightest.

"I've missed you," Harry mumbles into your ear, "I waited for you."

"I know, Potter," You say back, equally quiet as his words, "I've missed you too."

"Don't be hogging him, Harry, I'd like to hug my son too, you know," Remus interrupts causing a chuckle from a few people.

You smiled brightly as you hug your old man, you sink into your father's touch, relieved to be back after a while. Everyone was happy to see you again, you even gave Moody a cheeky jab that you couldn't miss his retirement party.

"So, (Y/n), what's your plan now?" Ron asked.

You shrugged your shoulder, "Well, I'm going for Supreme Mugwump."

"That's brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed as you laugh, there was a clear buzz of excitement for you.

"But, really, I just want to relax, I've been working too hard and for too long for this world," You hummed, placing a tender hand on top of Harry's, "So, I'll turn down the position for now just so I can spend time for you guys."

"Awh, aren't you a darling," Sirius jokes as you rolled your eyes.

"I've missed you too Sirius."

Life hasn't been easy for you, but, the world was safer now, especially in your hands. In the end, it was worth it. To be with Harry and see Remus grow old as he should.

You are content.

#harry potter x male reader #harry potter imagine #remus x reader #x male reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x male reader #platonic

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famousinuniverse · 6 months

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Noosa Heads Beach, Sunshine Coast, Queensland, Australia: Noosa is an up-market destination popular for locals and travelers taking in some of Australia's best swimming, dining and shopping. Noosa is located on Queensland's Sunshine Coast, easily accessible from Brisbane. Nosa Main Beach is popular for vacations and summer holidays. Surfers like the Beach. It's good for swimming, although in some places rips are threatening. Th Main Beach has golden sand; it's patrolled by life savers. It's one of Queensland's favorite beaches. Noosa Main Beach is 1.2 km long.

#Noosa Heads Beach #Sunshine Coast #Queensland #Australia

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vixentheplanet · 1 year

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five star hotel

"I think you should come and visit. I someone else who isn't you pulling up in a minute."

shuri x black!reader | 18+

Summary: You've recently completed a press tour and a phenomenal award season for your latest film. To celebrate and unwind, you and your friends fly to Mauritius, an island in East Africa. You realize your relaxation time, but you're missing a thrill that can only come from one person. The only problem is that they need to be here.

inspired by five star hotels. by raye

word count: 7.1k

themes: actress reader, dom/sub undertones, this is very filthy...

warnings: smoking, drinking, possessive!shuri, dom! shuri, dom/sub undertones, dirty talk, car sex, shotgunning, thigh riding, fingering, orgasm denial, begging, established safe words, body licking, rough sex, penetrative sex, spitting, choking, throat fucking, wall sex, oral sex

hi - i’m in the process of re-uploading everything so anyone who wants to read can have easy access to find my works which is going to take some time but this was the easiest to post (it’s me not some random person lmaooo) 😔

Mauritius. A small Indian Ocean island nation famed for its beaches, lagoons, and reefs. It was your holiday destination of choice. You'd just returned from a press tour for your new film, Sounds of the Vanished, and you'd finished the awards season as the most-awarded actress for your performance. The response and success to your performance had been magnificent, but with so much traveling and busy schedules, you were relieved to be on vacation.

The island was your destination for relaxation. Liza, Kali, Jade, and Evangeline were among your closest friends. You'd only been here for three of the fourteen days you'd planned, but you were having a great time going on different excursions during the day, such as hiking, snorkeling, and deep-sea diving. At night, you could be seen mingling with both residents and tourists at any number of vibrant outdoor bars and clubs. You were having a great time until last night when you had a little too much to drink.

As an actress, you were a natural social butterfly. You were the life of the party, captivating everyone who came across you. People are scared of your confidence. That was something you'd built up to prepare for audition rejections, award losses, and unfavorable critiques in this line of work. These qualities made up your character and personality that the public loved and adored, but you may be intense for those who didn't know how to handle it. As a single, young, attractive, and accomplished woman, such vibrant, charismatic energy drew a lot of attention, but most people realized they were too intimated by you. All except her.

You and Shuri, the Queen of Wakanda, had been seeing each other for a few months. The two of you discovered a pleasure in one another that you couldn't find anyplace else, which is why you found yourself phoning her the night before. You and your four friends were lounging on the patio of a bar, taking in the atmosphere and the warm climate. With the breathtaking ocean scenery, string lights twinkled above you as the waves crashed against the shore.

You'd been drinking a lot of flights, trying out various whiskeys and margaritas. The more the alcohol affected your bloodstream, the more lustful you became. Feelings that only she could control. You knew she'd make time for you if you asked, but when you slipped away to a quieter corner of the bar to call, she didn't answer.

Even when she's working, Shuri always answers your calls. It was too late for her to have a council meeting, and if she were out on business or Panther duties, she'd let you know so you knew she wouldn't be available, so her phone not answering meant she was busy fucking someone else. You and Shuri had similar lifestyles, both busy, and neither of you liked being tied down. She slept with whomever she wanted, and you did as well.

Who’s that bitch you’re fucking?

I know you’re fucking her.

You texted, which seemed to tease, but the attitude was evident. You were the top priority over any of those other bitches.

She texted back an hour after.

Bet.

That was the end of the conversation last night. This morning, you awoke, smirking all the way to breakfast with your companions. You didn't care enough to "apologize," you both knew you weren't sincere, and everything you said was true.

You missed her body, and you know she missed yours.

She should be here. Nobody can fire her up as you can, and she's told you that several times.

You and Shuri had choices, and you both occasionally explored options before settling back on each other. Sex is sex, but sex with Shuri is unrivaled. Perhaps it's because she has no problem putting you in your place. Neither your fame nor your demeanor could faze her, maybe because you were a challenge to her. In turn, you weren’t intimidated by her being the Queen of Wakanda or the Black Panther.

The entire morning you went on a sightseeing and boat tour. You pause to take pictures with fans or sign autographs for any who happen to pass by before hurriedly exiting the location. Your security was concerned that word of your and your guests' whereabouts would spread shortly. You return to your room in the middle of the day. Jade retreated to her room to nap while Liza, Kali, and Evangeline went to the spa, but you returned to clean your room in preparation for Shuri's arrival.

It was time to get ready for tonight by the time you finished. You prepared by taking a shower, applying skincare and makeup, and grabbing your outfit from the closet—a Dolce & Gabbana black spandex mini dress with sleeves from the 2003 spring collection. When you reunited, Kali whistled, "Yeah, ma, do a spin for me,” She took out her phone and began recording an Instagram story. To humor her, you do a whole spin shaking your ass a little before turning around and laughing.

You know it's just a matter of time before your fans discover it and go crazy for the dress, but this is the only chance they'll see you wear it. Though things were quiet on Shuri's end, you knew she'd come through. “Save it for the club!” Angie yells as your bodyguard holds the SUV’s door open.

You're dancing in the midst of a club, but you can't recall his name. He had approached you, star-struck, and asked if you wanted to dance; why not? Something he might later brag about to his buddies. You left Liza and Kali at the table, watching everyone's drinks. Jade and Evangeline had long disappeared after hearing a few members of the Golden State Warriors were in the lounge: “When Basketball Wives gets rebooted, trust I’ll be there. Let’s go, Angie!” So there you were, grinding back on a nameless man, his hard-on pressing onto you. You didn't mind because he was handsome enough. It was a nice ego boost and even better knowing he'd be dissatisfied by the night's end.

He couldn't keep up with you even now, dancing timidly, because his energy didn't match yours. Nervous. Consider what would happen if a famous actress told him, "I need you to choke me and pound me until I can't walk tomorrow." In all likelihood, he'd flee, leaving you to obsess about the person in your fantasies. You see Kali strolling through the crowd after leaving the VIP section upstairs as if angels answered your prayers. Her phone is in your hand, and her face is filled with worry. You break away from your dancing partner to focus solely on your best friend, and he backs off. "What's the matter, babe?" You yell over the music as she hands you your phone.

"Your phone hasn't stopped ringing!" She yells in your ear, attempting to come as close as possible to you. "You have something like a hundred notifications. I don’t know if something serious happened,” she exaggerates, handing you your phone.

As you check your phone, you find ten missed calls and two texts from 'DP.' Because calling back while the music vibrated the floorboards was pointless, you read the text first.

Come outside.

Now.

Smirking, you bite your lip and glance at the screen, no longer interested in your dance partner. She arrived. You knew 'bet' wasn't a joke. Shuri was one of the most brilliant minds in existence, with access to the most cutting-edge existing technologies. She was undoubtedly aware of your whereabouts before you enticed her to come hunting for you. You told her to come looking for you, and she did. You can't help but wonder how long she's been hiding on the island, waiting for the right opportunity to surprise you.

When you look up, Kali looks at you suspiciously, questioning, "Who the fuck is DP, and why are they blowing up your phone?" She wonders aloud. You wrinkle your eyebrows at her assertiveness, "None of your concern, one. Two, I'm heading out."

Kali's eyes show she wants to push you farther, but secrets are unusual between you, so she knows your secrecy is for a reason. "You'd better be at brunch. That’s all I know!” She demands, abruptly changing the subject. You grin as you lean down to kiss her cheek.

“I will, baby. Tell Liza I’m leaving; you know she worries.” Liza was the eldest and only married woman with two gorgeous children. She knew how to have a good time and party, but on nights like this, with everyone split up, drinking, and in a foreign country, she was bound to be extra careful despite your protection. Her maternal instincts were likely in overdrive, especially with Jade and Angie. In a way, you're one less person to be concerned about.

You gaze down at your phone once more. Shuri's text message arrived seven minutes ago. "Yes, yes. Leave before I come outside with you and start interrogating."

Knowing she's dead serious, you wrap up the conversation. "Love you, and make sure one of them doesn't wind up taking Tristian Thompson to the hotel," you joke, referring to Jade and Angie’s quest to be WAGS. Kali's eyes widen as you joke.

“Girl! You’re messy—get out of here," she giggles, nudging you along.

Moving stealthily through the crowd toward the exit, you keep your head down. The cool night air hits your exposed skin as you scan the area for your target. There's a black unmarked Rolls Royce with dark tints that are probably illegal. Bingo. Once it’s safe to do so, you cross the street and peer across the back to see a familiar figure pressing up against the passenger door.

You're confident none of the dark and disoriented individuals inside and outside the club are paying attention to the fact that the queen of Wakanda is standing out in the open, waiting for you. As you take her in, your lip catches between your teeth. She is dressed casually in black athletic shorts and a white tee shirt. There was no use in putting effort into an outfit that would wind up on the floor, but she looked impressive in whatever she wore.

She didn't bother turning her head to look at you as if she sensed you. "I found you," she says. Her tone is somber and absent of the usual playfulness. She did not find your antics the night before amusing. "Found me," you say as you stroll up the sidewalk to Shuri. Even though she seems off, being in the Wakandan Queen's presence causes your skin to tingle with anticipation. Your body is all too familiar with her.

When you stand before her, she uncrosses her arms, and you naturally fall into them, staring up at her as her arms wrap around your waist. "I thought I'd have to drag you out of there." You bring your arms around her neck, pulling her in.

“Mm,” you hum at the thought of Shuri being rough with you. “Wouldn’t want you to cause a scene to scare away all my potential late-night guests,” you teased. Instead of responding verbally, Shuri takes one of her hands off your ass and brings it back in a disciplining slap. You almost moan as the offensive force increases your eagerness.

You close your eyes, wincing slightly before letting out a breathy sigh. "Why are you upset? I can be with whoever I want, right.” You mock her, peering up at her through your lashes with false innocence. As if you didn't know, your words would provoke that reaction from her.

Shuri looks down at you. She rubs your ass with the hands she used to punish you for soothing the pain. “You can fuck whoever you want, but you still beg me to come out here.”

The reunion is over as she releases you, pushing off the car. Her authoritative nature consumes the air around you, nearly suffocating. "What's your problem?" you questioned as if you hadn't drunk-texted her, telling her she needed to be here.

Shuri sucks her teeth. "My problem is you," she declares emphatically, not caring how you react. “I didn’t come here to argue with you.” There were two choices: retaliate with an equally slick ass statement, or listen and behave. For now, you’ll behave as you decide to reach to open the door.

Shuri's presence is behind you, grasping the handle before you can, "Don't act brand new," she says. When you get inside the Rolls-Royce, you're surprised Shuri can see out the black windows—admiring the starlight headlining. She stays silent after that, getting into the driver's seat. She continues to drive without even trying to pay attention to you. You were aware that you might be a brat sometimes; all that confidence and energy made for a toxic combination now and then. One way Shuri exerts power is by ignoring you. Sometimes it would work, shifting your headspace to a more submissive one. You're too busy being a good girl, begging and pleading for Shuri's praise and care, to be bothered with talking back. Other times, you make her work for your submission, not letting up until she is inside of you, manipulating your body into any position she desires while fucking you senseless.

You knew exactly what you needed tonight. Shuri parks her car in a beach parking space near the hotel and turns off the engine. Silence fills the air as Shuri reclines her seat, and you wait impatiently. You wonder why she stopped here instead of the main lot.

You get your answer as your eyes follow her movements as she reaches in and pulls out a pre-rolled joint, sparking the lighter. Shuri’s gaze lingers on you as she takes a hit of the cannabis. Exhaling, the smoke fills the air around you. You expect her to open her mouth to speak now, but instead, she returns the joint to her lips. Starting to get agitated with her ignoring you, cross your arms, and face her back against the door. "Did you drag me out of the club to watch you smoke?"

"Didn't you text my phone acting crazy? Stop being impatient."

You raise an eyebrow at her comments as if she didn’t want you as much as you wanted her. “You’re acting like if I told you couldn’t hit this anymore, you wouldn’t lose your mind. It doesn’t matter who you’re laid up with. They aren't me." Many women were willing and waiting for Shuri to give them a chance, but she came here to be with you in less than twenty-four hours.

Shuri sucks her teeth and is not pleased with your delivery as she refuses to accept the truth of your words. “You keep talking to me like you lost your mind,” she asserts, frowning in confusion. “I don’t know who else you’re dealing with that lets you talk to them like that, but not me,” she warns.

"I wouldn't be talking if we were inside," your voice whines. Neediness has taken over. She was right here, but she was still too far away.

Shuri grins. "Would you like me to bring you inside? I might use you how I please for my own satisfaction. Have you just lay there and take it? Is that what you want?”

"You wouldn’t do that."

“I wouldn’t?” Shuri challenges, passing the joint to your outstretched fingers.

“Coming all this way and not playing with me,” You inhale in small puffs, pull the smoke into your lungs, and exhale. “Sounds like more of a punishment for you than me.” Your body was something she couldn't resist. Even when she attempts to avoid touching you in order to drive you insane, she always breaks. You didn’t need to dominate to control her.

You return the blunt to her, and she accepts it. "Come here," she says as she pats the empty space in her lap, and you climb over. She absorbs another blow at the same time. Her hand is on your thigh, gradually moving the fabric of your dress up, exposing the skin of your ass to the cool temperature that the AC is trying to maintain.

As you approach her, the effects of the high are visible in her eyes. Your gaze falls to her lips, and without hesitation, you lift your hands to her face and draw her to you. Shuri's free hand pulls you closer in an instant, pressing you even harder against her lips, finally giving in to what you both desire. Shuri's teeth dragged at your lower lip, causing you to part your lips. Instinct took over as you felt the Wakandan royals' tongue glide between your lips. Heat runs through your body all at once, and the hunger building up with the distance causes you to devour each other, leaving you gasping as she pulls away.

You give her a single breath before lowering your lips again. Shuri took the lead this time, more demanding and rough, brushing her tongue over your lips and drawing it between her teeth in the most sinful way possible, your brain shutting down completely as you makeout.

It's your turn to take a breath away from the kiss, and Shuri tries to distract herself by going down towards your collarbone.

"Uh, uh," you pull Shuri's mouth away from your neck, revealing her face. "I know exactly how you get, and I have a lot of skimpy bikinis to wear." Shuri took great pleasure in seeing all of her marks on you. Everyone who fucked you next would be distracted by thoughts of who gave them to you, unable to enjoy themselves to the fullest. Constantly wondering and fascinated as to who had so much claim over you.

"People can't admire me if they're too focused on what's on my skin." Shuri's eyes narrow, not amused by your comment. To console her, you caress the side of her face, beckoning her to lean closer with a finger. You teasingly bite her lip, returning to meet her icy stare again.

"Don't make that face," you mock, knowing Shuri was irritated by the image of you with other people you were trying to paint in her mind. There was no commitment, but neither of you liked being reminded of previous sexual partners when you were together. You give her lips another light peck, humming with excitement at the satisfaction of riling her up. "You can still hit it like it's yours," you whisper, your angelic eyes drowning in seduction.

Shuri finally gets tired of your arrogance and lifts your chin tightly, forcing you to look up at her. "It is mine.” She almost growls in your ear. Your smirk fades as you let out an audible moan, getting off to the sound of her voice, knowing the severity in her tone assured you a long night ahead.

Shuri makes a pleased sound, and her suppressed groan enhances your desire for her. “I love this little attitude you’re putting on. You want to know why?” She asked, waiting for you to respond.

“Mm, why is that?” You take a deep breath, feeling the tension and temperature in the car rise. You desperately wanted to remove that extra layer of clothing between you two. You were aching for her despite your best efforts to appear unaffected.

Shuri relaxes her hold slightly to bring her thumb to your lower lip, her dark gaze following the way your tongue teasingly peaks out to lick the tip of her finger. "Because I get to fuck it out of you," she continues. “Make you my good girl again." Her words penetrate your core, and you feel walls clench around emptiness, knowing she'll make you complete soon.

"You're insatiable, and no one can tame you as I can. Huh, baby,” You nod, unable to speak because your mouth is busy. "That's exactly what I thought. Now move.” Move? You wrinkle your brows as you begin to rise from Shuri's lap, disappointed, not seeing the point of having you get up from your seat in the first place before a bruising hold on your waist stops you. “Move.” She repeats more forcefully, and you realize what she means. You adjust a little so that one of Shuri's thighs is between your legs, then press down until your clit is firmly against her. You're confident she can sense how wet you are for her, dripping on her skin.

"Get nice and wet for me, but you can't cum," Shuri instructs as you roll your hips. You begin cautiously, attempting to follow Shuri's warning not to cum yet. You won't overwhelm yourself if you proceed slowly.

Time passes. Shuri rotates the rest of the blunt between you two, bringing it to your lips for each inhalation. Your hands are gripping the back of the seat. It's hot, and you can feel sweat clinging to your skin, but you don't mind. You're far too mellow. Dazed and whirling, your hips are in sync with the smoke filling the air illuminated by the stars on the ceiling. Using Shuri's body to get off feels like something out of a dream.

Massaging your clit against Shuri’s thighs, a little gasp leaves your lips when the sensation gets too much. Shuri takes one last, deep drag. A hand comes to the back of your neck, pulling you close to her until your foreheads are touching. Before opening your mouth, you purse your lips, pushing a whimper to the back of your throat. Shuri presses forward, your lips touching as she, little by little, blows the smoke into your mouth. You accept everything, inhaling the marijuana and moving in for a kiss.

Her hand goes from your neck to your folds, inserting her middle finger inside till it brushes against your clit. The slightest touch of her fingertips causes your hips to stutter and your rhythm to come to a halt as your thighs tighten around her wrist. "Shuri," you exhale, rocking gently in her embrace.

Your face flushed at the slick sounds as she played in the results of your sexual desire.

"You're not being fair," you protest. Shuri commanded you not to cum while making it more difficult for you. It was easier when you had a choice over your pleasures, but Shuri used her expert fingers to take you apart while expecting you not to cum. Your stomach tightens as you strain to suppress your climax, letting out a few quiet grunts.

Shuri doesn't care what you think of her games. “I don’t have to be fair. I make the rules, and you have to follow them.” Her dominant tone is coming through, making you even wetter. The low, seductive timbre of her voice might set you off. She increases the pressure on her finger, and you're practically writhing in her lap, desperate for the woman to stop. You could feel the euphoric tension rising and—

"Fuck," you scream, curling in on yourself in relief as Shuri comes to a stop, denying you release verbally and now physically. You mistakenly assume she was finished, not realizing she never removed her hand. You could have thought things were over, but now she's moving again.

“Are you going to come?” She questioned. No words are coming out of your mouth, so you frantically shake your head from side to side. Your body betrays you, starved of orgasm and searching for it. On Shuri's fingers, your hips swivel down. Shuri grins with amusement as she watches you break.

The weed always lets you get out of your thoughts and into your body, which was good because it amplified sex sensations when high. Yet, it also proved a disadvantage as you fought to keep it together. "Are you sure?" With a wicked expression on her face, she pushed.

You felt helpless, wanting to obey Shuri yet lacking the strength to resist your release. "Please, please, please," you beg, attempting to escape her. But you're no match for Shuri, and she doesn't back down, aware that if you genuinely wanted her to stop, you'd use the safe word you established.

Your pleading must have worked because a few seconds later, Shuri pauses, preventing you from having an orgasm yet again. Relieved, tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you realize you can break free. She removes her hands this time, and you can see the sticky substances coating her fingers. “Always so messy,”

Shuri raises her fingers to your mouth, and you accept them to clean yourself off her. You look up at her with sparkling eyes as you conduct such wicked acts. She groans as she feels your lips suction around her, tongue circling each finger, properly licking yourself up. “Good enough for me to taste later,” you nod, still sucking.

A humming sound emanates from her lips as she muses, "I'll think about it if you can listen to me. You'll now return to your room while I park the car." Shuri continues to speak. "I want you naked on the bed. If you understand, nod." You do as directed by gesturing your head like a good girl. Shuri kisses you briefly before releasing you.

Faithful to her sadistic nature, she has added one extra obstacle for you to get to your suite. You shakily exit the car, pausing to remove your heels as you walk through the sand. You reach the patio and cross the hotel gardens, cursing Shuri silently. You try to multitask by removing your dress's sleeves. You cross the bridge into the area of the private spaces a few minutes later, smiling at the Hotel personnel as you rush.

You unlock the suite door and kick your heels to the side of the entryway before proceeding to the room. A touchscreen pad on the wall controls multiple functions in the room. You press the center button, which dimly illuminates the room. You rush into the restroom to wash the sand off your feet. Fucking Shuri. On the short walk, you've probably cursed her ten times.

You run into the kitchen, needing a drink. You opened a bottle of wine the other day but never got around to drinking it. You remove the cork and pour two glasses, one for yourself and one for Shuri. You down the smooth red liquid. You understand that the alcohol would quickly combine with the THC in your system. "Fuck," you mutter as you realize you're losing time. Shuri was almost certainly on her way inside.

You hurriedly slip your dress over your head and slide your soaked panties down your legs, throwing both things on the couch at the end of the bed, leaving the bottle and glass of wine you poured for Her on the bedside table. You climb into bed, your head resting in your hands, your elbow propped up, anticipation beating through your skin.

Shuri emerges from the corridor a few minutes later, placing a bag on the carpet. Her pupils dilated as lust darkened her irises, and her eyes took you in. The number of times she's seen you undressed doesn't matter; she's always stunned, unable to speak. She walks around to the other side of the bed and finds the treat you've left for her. “You want to be nice to me now?” Shuri said as she looked at the wine.

"You expect me to show compassion for you just because you pour me a glass of wine?" Shuri reaches out her tattooed hand to stroke your chin. "I'm not," she laughed, tilting her head to the side. "But it was thoughtful of you."

You gasp sharply at her words. You can't wait for her to take off her clothes. You desired her inside of you after being denied two orgasms. "I never asked you to be," you said sarcastically. H oping she'd hurry up and fulfill her promise to fuck the arrogance out of you.

Shuri laughs again, aware of the game you were playing. “You have such a mouth on you.” She takes a couple of sips from her glass. "Lie on your back," she commands, and you do what she says—looking up at the chandelier while resting flat on your back.

Shuri holds the glass at an angle such that the red wine drips between your breasts and down to your stomach from above. The chill the unexpected sensation leaves on your skin causes your breath to catch. Your body stiffens as you try not to move and disturb the liquid on your body. Shuri gets on the bed face to face with the lower half of your body, still completely clothed, admiring her work. She brings her mouth to your heated skin from beneath your belly button, carefully licking up the mess she made.

She stops between your breasts, placing her lips on one of your nipples, and you moan, feeling her tongue circle around the sensitive bud—the bitter chill of the central air hardens it. Shuri moves on to the next one, repeating the technique and sucking until the sensitive buds are tense.

As she approaches, you whimper and finally come face to face. Shuri places two fingers between your legs, just outside your entrance. She was right where you needed her, but not quite near enough. "You're always so pretty and tight for me."

"Shuri," you whine. She was ignoring your desires. "No, that's all you're getting for now.” You sigh and roll your eyes. Shuri catches the action. “Again, with the attitude. That’s okay. We’re about to correct it right now.”

Shuri spreads your legs apart and bends them at the knee. “I advise that you keep your legs like this.” Though it didn’t seem like a complex request, you knew you would feel it in your abdomen the longer you held it. "Wide open, ready for me," Shuri observed, staring intently at your warm and inviting pussy.

You bite your lip as Shuri sinks inch by inch, and by the time she's entirely inside, you're gasping, your eyes shutting abruptly as your face twists in ecstasy. Shuri emits a noise of dissatisfaction, “No, open your eyes. I want you to watch it. Watch while I take you apart.” Her eyes had a sinister glint to them. She pushed in and out a few times to get you acquainted with the sensation of her.

The delayed start provided a false sense of security. Shuri's speed soon became ferocious fucking into you, and all you could do was lay there and receive it as her hips slapped into you. "Fuck!" you yelled, flinging your head back. Your thigh muscles were aching from retaining the position, but you were determined not to obstruct Shuri's entry to you.

Shuri slows her desperate strokes, stilling inside you, giving you a short reprieve. She goes for the bottle of wine and tilts her head back, taking a long sip. You can see her throat bob as she swallows it. It's quite seductive. "Open," she urges, holding the bottle above you, and you do it without question.

You feel like a goddess being poured wine while naked, high, and blissed out. This is why having sex with anyone else will never be the same as having sex with Shuri. Hair in all directions, body sticky from sweat, and the residue of the wine sipped off your skin. You swallow the wine, letting the smooth liquid ease the scratchiness in your throat. "Open," she says again, and although the bottle is nowhere to be seen, you open your mouth wide, putting your tongue out, waiting. Shuri spits directly into your mouth, and you tighten your grip on the strap. It should be disgusting, yet it's hot, and you fucking love it as her saliva hits you. “Such a whore, you know that? Letting me fuck you, ruin you.”

Her hands are widening your legs. "You love that, don't you?"

“Yes, yes, yes,” When she puts her finger to your clit, she doesn't let up until she makes you scream, clutching the sheets while screaming and moaning. Shuri is captivated by the noises you make and how her name slips off your tongue as she abandons you absolutely and completely undone.

"Yes, please make me cum for you," you plead, all the toying and teasing had left you ravenous, and all you wanted to do was reach orgasm. "Fuck me like that, fuck me so good," you scream, your fingers tightly wrapped around Shuri's neck, forcing her to stare at you.

"You always fuck me so good—feel so good in me," You’re babbling, half out of your mind. Loving when you’re vocal in bed. Your word has Shuri double her efforts, her strokes sinking deeper. You gasp in response to a powerful thrust pressed up on your g-spot. "There- right there—don't stop, don't stop, don't stop- "

“Don’t stop, huh?” She asks. "Will you let me have you like this all the time? Fuck you nonstop. Never let you go. Constantly have you naked and ready in my bed."

"I'd let you fuck me again and over," you say, maintaining eye contact.

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? I'll keep you in Wakanda just to fuck you. Make you cum again and again." Shuri was slamming relentlessly into you. As the dominant continued to drive into you, you shouted. Being treated this way, like Shuri's own whore, made you feel amazing. She treated you like an irresistible toy.

“You want to cum?”

“Yes, please, baby.”

"Do you believe you deserve it?" Shuri continues, not interested in your point of view. "I'll be nice, baby," she says, her voice raspy and low. “I’ll let you come. I'll let you come all over me, then fuck it right back into you so you can give it to me again." You can hear the headboard hitting the wall, moving in tandem with the intensity of Shuri's push, mixed in with Shuri's dirty obscenities. Your moans, her filthy words, and the snap of hips against you all contribute to your symphony. The most sinful thing ever composed. After being denied orgasms, you were going to come, but you still needed more. You grab Shuri's wrist and pull her over to your neck. "Shit baby," Shuri says, recognizing your request. Breath play always intensified your orgasms, and you knew you were on the verge of cumming. Permission had now been obtained.

As the hand around your neck squeezes, power is exchanged. A release from control, you giving it to Shuri and her receiving it. The dominant and submissive. Daddy Panther and her darling. As your airway tightens, you ease into the touch, becoming calmer, more carefree, and wholly trusting.

You finally achieve your high at that instant for a million reasons: the smoke, wine, and the taste of yourself on her tongue. Your body arches as everything stops, and you cry out Shuri's name like a litany as you come. The intensity of your climax causes your thighs to quiver. Shuri fucks you through it. Grabbing onto the headboard to plunge harder into you, a forceful stroke presses you farther into the mattress. You hear a crack that sounds like the wood of the headboard in Shuri's hands, but she does not stop. She continues to fuck you, never letting up on her pace falter. When your nerves are on edge from being too sensitive, she stops.

Shuri pants above you. You lay there for a second, attempting to regain your composure while looking up at Shuri with tearful eyes. "There she is, my girl," Her hand brushes some of the hairs stuck to your forehead. "It's all right, darling. I know she needs a break,” Shuri says, wiping the tears from your eyes. Your pussy had its own heartbeat, pulsing from the rough treatment. The thrill is intoxicating.

Shuri pulls out and stands up, and you whine about the absence of contact. She's now standing at the foot of the bed. "All fours, come here," she ordered firmly. As much as your body protested moving so soon after such an intense orgasm, you were committed to doing the right thing for Shuri. Follow her instructions. She meant it when she said she'd restore you to your former self as her good girl, your attitude replaced by a desire to please her. "Look at the mess you've made." You stare down at the glistening strap coated with your release. Shuri gathers your hair in one hand, the other holding the strap's base.

You get down on your elbows, ass up, spine beautifully curved. Shuri thrusts in, her hand holding your hair and keeping you in position as she shallowly rocks her hips. You bob your head, working more quickly, saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth. “That’s it, baby, tasting my pretty girl.” Shuri breathes, tone rough.

"Are you going to let me fuck your throat?" You give her permission by humming around the object in your mouth. The hand in your hair stops your movement, and Shuri takes charge. When she thrusts, it feels like she's scratching your throat, and your throat feels full and tight as if it's been expanded. Occasionally she goes deeper, triggering your gag reflex and making your eyes water. “You’re working so hard. I can't wait for you to ruin it again." She starts sliding you along the shaft of the strap with your hair. As the strap tip strikes the back of your throat, you make a choked moan. Shuri knows this isn't the first time you've done this, so she keeps you there for a second before pulling you off. You're gasping, spit is dripping down your chin, and your eyes are burning. The sight truly amazes Shuri.

"You look fucking beautiful right now. Can you do it again for me?" Shuri requests. You nod. The harsh treatment ignited the fire in your stomach. "Then I'll fuck you again," she informs you.

Shuri pushes you, slipping the tip in your throat again and securing you in place. You calmly breathe through your nose, but your throat convulses around the strap, and you choke. "Take a breath," Shuri orders, and you listen, your throat spasming before Shuri lifts you back up. You gaze up at Shuri, tears streaming down your cheeks, your chin messier than before. “So perfect for me,” Shuri gasped, and you moaned at the adoration you found in her expression.

“Are you okay?” She asks, checking in.

“Yes,” your voice is hoarse, fucked out. Waiting for Shuri’s next move.

Shuri is effortlessly lifting you from your position and collecting you in her arms, hands under your legs to support you. You tightly wrap your legs around her. Shuri moves through the room. As your body is pressed against the plaster, you kiss her, and the strap slides back into you, undoing all your hard work cleaning it. Your fingers clasp Shuri's shoulder as your arm loops around her neck, keeping her close to your chest. You interrupt the kiss to groan loudly, and your head collides with the back wall. "You're doing well, baby. Taking everything I give you," she says proudly.

That was something you admired about her. She never takes anything from you and always gives you all you need.

Shuri pins you between the well and her chest; sweaty bodies push together. Your heartbeats are racing. "Damn baby, you fuck me so good," you moan, glancing down to where the strap disappeared and reappeared in you.

You have no choice but to accept it as she continues with the fierce, sharp thrust. Her strength is exhilarating, tearing you apart and never wavering, giving it to you hard and fast. "Yes, like that, exactly like that," you pant, encouraging her to keep going, reminding her that her "good girl" can receive anything she has to offer.

This time, you get to your second climax much more quickly. The harder Shuri fucked you, the louder your moans became, unconcerned about who heard. "When you cum, I want you to scream my name," Shuri demands. She couldn't stop herself. She seized your hips and drilled relentlessly into your pussy. “Say it. I need to hear you say it.” It was fascinating to see her lose control. And when you feel the familiar wave of overpowering euphoria pour over you, you give her exactly what she wants. “Panther!” You scream, your walls squeezing the strap while you cum, but there's no time to recover.

Shuri is flinging you on the covers, and she's crawling back between your legs for the second time tonight. Shuri adores the taste of you. You recall her spending nearly an hour spreading you open and licking leisurely, not to make you come but to satiate her thirst. She couldn't stop herself from making you cum on her tongue to end this round.

Her lips are on your abused clit, sucking hard as her tongue licks at it, demanding more. You're going to give it to her because you can't bear the thought of disappointing her. Shuri gave you what you needed to give her what she wanted: your submission, your cum, your moans, your pleasure; it was all hers. She wrecked you for anyone else. There will never be someone who knew your body as well as she did and demonstrated it every time you were together.

You try to get free from her grip by twisting your body to the side, but your efforts are unsuccessful. Shuri pulls your body straight, pinning you on the bed by your waist, uninterested in your overstimulation. She was on a mission to watch you cry and beg for mercy.

Tears cloud your vision as the experience begins to overtake you. It's fantastic—too much of a good thing. "Oh my goodness, baby!" you exclaim. You were taken aback as you felt the release exit your body. Your palm reaches for your mouth to muffle the ugly sobs rattling your body. Your orgasm's shakes and spasms were tremendous, moving your entire body with intensity. The whole thing was extremely sensitive. You can't help but grin with the contented numbness of coming down from a high.

You press your sweating brow against your forearm, your unfocused gaze seeking Shuri. She's to your right, observing you cautiously, knowing she's put you through a lot. And you wouldn't want it any other way, of course. You smile at her in satisfaction. “Perfect, Oscar winner smile.” Shuri is delighted. "My star, you did an amazing job for me, baby."

“Always, Daddy Panther.”

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