#and he gave me a slightly funny/suspicious look and i was like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

venusbyline · 4 months ago

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Opposites ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 09, oct.

— pairing: Derek Morgan x petite!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: size difference

— summary: Derek asks you out on a date after seeing you just keeping company with your best friend at the gym.

— word count: 1.8k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 9th day, female!reader, gym goer!Morgan, size kink, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, hand & fingers kink, curse words, sub!reader, dom!Morgan, shy!reader, womanizer!Morgan, Spencer Reid mentioned. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

When you agreed to follow your best friend's workout at the gym, you were not really that interested in watching sweaty muscular people lifting weights back and forth. You spent all six damn days throughout the month focused on using your phone during those hours, only getting distracted when she asked you to help her pick something up or to record her so she could post the videos on her Instagram Stories later.

You were not a person very interested by fitness life, your mind was more focused on reading, working and watching movies. But you still took time out to watch your friend doing boring exercises.

You went to fill her water bottle for the second time in the last two hours, you were startled when a tall and very strong man approached you. "Jesus, I'm so sorry." You laughed embarrassedly, taking the airpods out of your ears. "I was so focused on the song I barely saw you coming."

The guy laughed too, a soft smile and dimples appearing slightly as he looked you from head to toe, seeming to understand that you were not there often. At least not for training. "It's your first day?

He asked and you flinched. You did not know if that was just curiosity or a mocking hint disguised as a question.

You swallowed hard and shook. "I'm just accompanying my friend." You said, turning off the water and looking at him. "What's your name?"

He smirked, stretching his strong arm towards you with a suspicious way, as if he was making a point of showing how hot he was. "Derek Morgan, princess."

The pet name made your cheeks blush and you nodded silently for a while, before seeing him furrowing his eyebrows and crossing his muscular arms. You lingered for a moment at the alluring sight before looking up, realizing the reason for his confused look. "Oh, sorry again." You gave an embarrassed smile, introducing yourself soon after, stretching out your hand for a handshake and watching him let out a little chuckle and uncross his arms again, shaking your hand, his large palm covering yours without any effort.

"A pretty name for a pretty little princess." Derek teased and then pointed to the crowded gym. "So, little princess... Don't you want to join us?"

Derek's question caught you off guard and you denied it, giving a half smile. "It's not my style. But thank you, I really admire those who follow this routine." You told him and he nodded, hoping you would continue saying anything just so he could hear your sweet voice. "The one over there that brought me here." You pointed to your best friend, who was looking at both of you with a prankish and excited look, as if she was noticing the obvious flirting even from a distance.

Morgan nodded, giving your friend a smile and a brief wave before turning back to you. "She seems like a nice girl. She's been training here for a while now." You agreed with his words. In fact, your friend was one of the best people you had ever met. Kind, funny, beautiful and with a perfect gym body. It was impossible not to be interested in her. "And your favorite hobbies?"

That surprised you a little, since you were absolutely sure Derek would stop flirting after you showed him your friend. Maybe this was just a stupid manly trick. "I like reading and watching movies when I'm not at work."

Derek smiled, crossing his arms for the second time. "An avid reader, then. You'd definitely get along great with Reid." You frowned at his joke. "Who's Reid?"

"One of my best friends and co-worker at the BAU." Derek told you and you were silent for a few seconds before you huffed, moving further to the corner so other people could fill up their water bottles at the gym's water fountain if they wanted. "If you have a crush on my best friend and this is just a way to suggest that you two go on a double date with me and your friend Reid, I have to say that's the worst flirting I've ever seen in my whole life."

Your bitter words left him indignant and in complete awkward silence, a loud laugh leaving his full lips when he finally spoke, wiping away the tear that fell from his brown eye. "Do you really think I have a crush on your friend, princess? If I liked her, I would just go up to her and ask for her number, I wouldn't pretend to have a crush on you and plan a double date just so I could have a least chance of talking to her."

You raised an eyebrow, stuttering and your hands shaking to try to hide your embarrassment. "But... You've already known her here at the academy for months..."

Derek nodded, the mocking and funny expression still on his face. "Exactly. I've known her long enough to have asked her out on a date if I was interested. I wouldn't waste time."

Not really knowing what to do, you looked away and scratched the back of your head, feeling like an idiot for not realizing that Morgan was trying to flirt with you. Having someone like into you seemed so surreal that you could hardly believe it was true. It seemed like a silly prank.

"So... How about a pub after my workout? I bet your friend won't mind lending you to me tonight."

You did not have a very good history with relationships or dating in general. You avoided having casual relationships due to some previous disappointments and you certainly would not have accepted Derek Morgan's invitation if he was not so... Perfect.

Agreeing to go with him to the pub after his and your friend's training had already been quite a step. There was a certain fear in drinking with strangers, especially when they were men. But Derek made you feel so comfortable during the date that you laughed more with him than with all the boys you had ever been involved with. He was charming, even if he was a womanizer.

Either way, you did not care. You felt so excited that just some kisses were enough for you to let yourself go to his house.

Both of you were the opposite of what you always looked for in your partners. You were more used to being involved with introvert nerdy boys. Derek was more used to having sex with gym girls or women who looked like supermodels.

And everything felt so right yet.

"You sure you're not virgin?" Morgan teased as he ripped off the gray shirt he was wearing and clinging to his biceps, making you distracted by the beautiful sight of his black skin and his strong body before you focusing on what he had asked.

"Yeah. Absolutely sure." You grumbled, legs still closed since he removed the skirt you were wearing. "I'm just... I'm just..."

"Just shy?" He smirked, gently opening your legs and exposing your pink cotton panties, already damp from the intense kisses you two exchanged along the way. You cursed yourself for not wearing a lace lingerie, the cotton fabric looking so childish for the situation that you could hardly believe Derek was still horny. "Something like that..."

Your begrudging admission made him chuckle, his large hand sliding down to the stain on your panties, where he rubbed a few circles that made you gasp. "You don't need to be so shy, princess." Morgan's finger continued caressing your clit through the cloth and you were no longer able to think straight, so he continued, his free hand going up inside your shirt, also caressing your petite breasts as you finally let out a louder moan. "Holy shit... You're so fucking wet."

Your cheeks turned pinker and you nodded, looking at him with big puppy eyes, desperate for more touch. Your hand went up to his biceps, holding and pulling him closer, so he could kiss you again. A little smirk escaped Morgan's lips while his strong body was on top of yours, covering you completely as he kissed you, his soft mouth tasting yours as his fingers pushed your panties to the side and rubbed your clit without any fabric getting in the way.

His fingers were cold compared to your warm pussy, you could feel it very well when Derek inserted his middle finger into you, fucking you slowly when he saw you holding your breath and widening your eyes. The lack of sex over the past months has made you more sensitive and tight than usual.

"Fuck, princess..." The movements started to get faster and you moaned almost pathetically, your legs shaking and your body trying to move away from his hand reflexively. "Shhh, relax..."

You whimpered, spreading your legs even wider to try and make the process easier. Derek smirked proudly at the sight of your pussy tightening his finger as you worked hard to get him deep, your tight velvety walls becoming softer when he added his ring finger too.

A whining of pain echoed through the room. But not unbearable pain, just the pain of stretching. "Such a tight little pussy..." Morgan growled, fingering you and reaching down to begin trailing wet kisses down your skinny thighs. "Attagirl... You're so hot..."

You smiled at Derek, the shyness remaining but now also feeling proud of yourself at the sight of Derek's cock tight in his gym shorts, desperately wanting to break free and be inside you, fucking you.

Your eyes narrowed when Morgan nibbled the lower part of your thighs until he reached your groin, kissing your clit, so fast and soft that it made you shiver and squeeze his fingers by impulse. "Derek, please..." Your whining might seem stupid, but to Morgan it was the cutest and sexiest thing he had ever heard. He smirked after running his tongue over your wet folds, licking some of your dripping juices.

"You think you can handle one more finger, princess?"

His question made you stop moaning, your vision now focused on his hand, his two fingers still fucking you rough and fast. They were too big, the possibility of one more inside was almost like being ripped in half. Two fingers inside you was what you were used to.

However, you did not care much about the pain. You wanted every inch of Morgan inside you. You wanted to feel him deep down, you wanted every second of that sex to be worth it. You wanted Derek to make you feel so much pleasure to the point that you squirted effortlessly into his hand, until you wet his face and chest.

"Four..." You whispered between moans when he interspersed the fingerfucking with the caresses of your clit caused by his thumb. Morgan looked at you confused, at first not understanding what you were suggesting. "Four fingers, Derek. I need this..."

Derek gave you a dimpled smile, chuckling softly and licking your clit again, the tip of his index finger already ready to enter you. He licked your folds for the third time before teasing you. "What a pretty and greedy little pussy..."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

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maretinelli · 21 days ago

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SECRET FOR ONE YEAR

Ollie Bearman X Russell!fem!reader

Summary: When Ollie and Y/n have been dating for almost one year, the only person who doesn't know yet is George. Y/n's older brother.

Words: 5.3K+

Warnings: Romance, secret dating, appearance of George and Carmen (I love Carmen🥹), conversations about sex, and women's conversations hahaha.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. This story came to me when I was having insomnia, but I decided to write it the next day.

MASTERLIST

Ollie Bearman and Y/n Russell had a quiet romance, hidden from the view of the media and, more importantly, Y/n's brother, George.

From the beginning, the idea of a relationship between her and Ollie seemed complicated, considering the rivalry between him and George on the F1 tracks. The Mercedes driver was a kind, understanding and friendly man, and she knew he would treat Ollie well, but still the fear of telling her older brother lingered in her mind.

They held their meetings in discreet places and away from the eyes of paparazzi, avoiding any type of public exposure.

The Russell and Bearman families knew about this romance, even Carmen, George's girlfriend, and they helped keep up appearances, avoiding any gesture or word that could reveal anything about the relationship.

Poor George, he was oblivious to this. Thinking that Y/n was going to her best friends' house from college every time she caught a flight. But the truth was, she was going to spend a few days at Ollie's house in London. Poor George.

A year passed, and they kept their relationship a secret. There were also days when some fans were suspicious, but Y/n told her brother that it was just rumors, nothing much. The poor pilot believed it, because Y/n and Ollie had been close friends for years.

That's what he thought.

Ollie didn't pressure his girlfriend to tell the world or her brother, he understood Y/n's concerns and supported her with sweet and comforting words.

Sure, he wanted to shout from the rooftops that Y/n Russell was the love of his life. But he also enjoyed the peace they had away from the spotlight.

The day was cold and cloudy. Y/n was at her older brother's house, having girl time with Carmem. Y/n talked about how her relationship with Ollie was going, while the eldest gave advice and listened attentively to her younger sister-in-law.

The relationship between Y/n and Carmem has always been marked by a remarkable closeness. Ever since Carmem started dating George, Y/n felt comfortable opening up to her, even in the most difficult times. They laughed together, shared secrets and, most importantly, always knew how to give each other space when needed. It was a friendship built on mutual trust.

Y/n was lying on George and Carmem's big bed, with her feet covered in a sock and resting on the headboard, relaxing while her sister-in-law was sitting in the armchair, concentrating on painting her nails, with a skincare mask on her face, just like Y/n.

The two were enjoying a rare moment of tranquility, away from the stresses of everyday life and their boyfriends' Formula 1 events.

"You know... sometimes I feel like telling George about my relationship," she begins, and Carmen looks up, looking at her sister-in-law lying on the bed. "I feel sorry for Ollie, I keep the relationship a secret because of my brother and not because of the media, and I feel like he wants to show everyone that we're together. But... it seems like I won't let him, you know?"

Y/n turns to Carmen, looking at her with slightly teary eyes. Carmen tries not to laugh, even though the subject was serious, Y/n looked funny with that pink mask on her face.

"Look, honey. I understand the weight you carry." Carmen says. "You can talk more and I know Ollie will understand what you want right now. And when the time is right, you can tell George. I know he loves and protects you a lot as your big brother, but he wants to see you happy too, just like Ollie. I see the love the pilot has for you, and I know he's willing to do whatever you decide."

Y/n turns her head to her and smiles, sniffling a little. "Oh, what I would be without you, Carmen!"

Carmem smiles sweetly and goes back to painting her nails.

Y/n turned her gaze to the wall in front of her, while wiggling her toes absentmindedly, her hands were inside the pocket of the sweatshirt she was wearing.

Carmen sees how she thinks about something, and bites her lower lip. "Y/n, what are you thinking about now?" She asks teasingly.

The girl lets out a little laugh and looks at her sister-in-law. "Oh, I don't know how to tell you this...it's kind of...embarrassing...I guess." Y/n takes her hands out of her pocket and begins to peel off the nail polish, shyly.

Carmen frowns and looks curiously at the youngest. "Hey, you can trust me! You know!"

Y/n rolls a little in bed to face her sister-in-law, but doesn't realize she was right on the edge, almost falling. A sudden movement and she ends up on her back on the floor.

"It's just that Ollie and I..." She laughs awkwardly. "You see... we slept together for the first time last week..." She says quietly, but Carmen hears and smiles, her eyes widening a little.

"What? Like, in a way-" Carmen doesn't finish, because Y/n interrupts.

"NO!" She says loudly. "Well, yes. No, but...damn." She tries to explain herself and Carmen laughs. "I mean, we slept together in a real sleeping way. You know." Y/n explains. "But also, you know, we've slept together that other way..." She feels her cheeks grow hot, confessing this to someone.

No one knew, however, Y/n was embarrassed to tell her mother. Not that she would fight, but you see, she would be talking about sex with the woman who raised her.

"So? Can I ask how you felt?"

Y/n smiles embarrassedly. "The first time is weird, isn't it?! But I have to say it was good... he was good..." She searches for the right words, taking some time to think better. "It was kind... He respected the moment and everything" She turns around smiling.

Carmem smiles, still focused on her nails. "Ah, that was cute!"

Y/n rolls her eyes laughing, looking back at the wall.

"You know you can trust me. I can give you tips on how to-"

Y/n interrupts her, blushing from having spent too much time on that subject. "Thanks! That's weird coming from you, because you're dating my brother. But coming from a woman to a woman, I take the advice."

Carmem laughs softly. "Was it the first time for both of you?" She asks, we try to help Y/n with the question.

Before Y/n could respond, something interrupts.

"First time of what?" George says loudly, startling Y/n, making her turn around quickly and fall off the bed in fright. Her back makes a loud bang on the floor.

"Holy shit" she curses under her breath, placing her hands behind her back for falling on her sneakers. That would definitely leave a bruise later.

"Are you okay?" George asked worriedly as he watched his sister get up. Carmen across the room was holding back a laugh.

"I am." Y/n grimaces. "But it was your fault, you scared me!" She jokes, making George roll his eyes.

"Hey, it's not my fault if you were telling a secret against me and got scared by my arrival" He raises his hands laughing. Y/n exchanges a look with Carmen, who had a smile on her face.

"Funny you" Y/n sits on the bed. And George laughs.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Days passed, and the Monza Grand Prix finally arrived. The atmosphere was full of energy, with fans cheering and teams busy making final adjustments for free practice. Y/n took advantage of her break from university to watch the race up close. It was rare to be able to watch her boyfriend and her brother at the same time, but this dynamic had its price: secrecy.

In the Mercedes VIP lounge, Y/n was comfortably seated in one of the armchairs, her eyes fixed on her cell phone. She was wearing a casual but elegant Mercedes outfit, which went unnoticed among the luxury of the area.

To George, it seemed like his sister was just there to support him like she always did: wearing a T-shirt with their last name and a team cap. He would never suspect the real reason behind her presence.

Ollie Bearman.

As she was scrolling through her phone, she heard footsteps entering the room. Instinctively, she looked up and froze. There was Ollie, with that unmistakable smile that always made her heart beat faster.

"Hey, my love-" She could have sworn the nickname came out louder than they expected.

Y/n's eyes widened immediately, putting her finger to her lips and frantically gesturing with her hands for him to stop talking. Before she could react further, the side door of the room opened again, and George walked out of his private room with a friendly smile.

“Ah, Ollie!” George greeted, extending his hand to the Haas driver. Ollie, who had also been frozen for a moment, quickly composed his expression and shook George’s hand.

"Hey, George! How are you?" He replied, his voice slightly hesitant, but still friendly.

"Of course! What brings you to our room?" George asked, clearly curious but kind.

Y/n held her breath, trying to look distracted by her cell phone, while her eyes moved to follow the scene.

Thinking quickly, she looked up and replied, "Oh, I called you! I thought we could take a walk around the paddock before practice starts. You know, catch up."

George seemed pleased with the answer, as he knew how great friends they had been since the younger driver was in F2.

He nodded. "Good idea! It's a great day for a walk."

As Y/n stood up, Carmem entered the room with a calm smile. She walked towards the coffee machine, but when she saw Ollie and Y/n together, she gave her sister-in-law a knowing look, which she hid as much as possible. Carmem clearly knew what was happening, but she wouldn't say anything.

As Y/n walked past her brother to leave, holding her cell phone, George frowned slightly when he noticed something in her hand.

"Hey, I never noticed before. Nice ring, Y/n!" He commented, casually pointing to the discreet wedding band she wore on her finger.

For a moment, silence filled the room. Ollie froze in place, while Y/n felt her cheeks grow hot. Carmem almost choked on her coffee, but George, innocent as always, didn't understand anything wrong in the atmosphere.

"Oh, thank you!" Y/n said quickly, trying to sound natural. "Our mother gave it to me the other day. I thought it was pretty and decided to use it,"

"You have good taste," George replied with a smile, before turning to Carmen, who was trying to contain her laughter.

Y/n took advantage of the moment to pull Ollie by the arm and leave. They hurried across the paddock, trying not to attract curious glances. As soon as they found a more secluded corner, away from the hustle and bustle, Ollie grabbed her hand, gently pulling her closer.

Before she could say anything, he surprised her with a passionate kiss. Y/n smiled against his lips, feeling the warmth of his arms around her. When they pulled away, Ollie had a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"So it was your mother who gave you that beautiful ring?" He joked, chuckling softly.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but laugh. "It was the first thing that came to my mind, okay? And it worked, didn't it?"

Ollie caressed her face, his gaze full of affection. "You're amazing, you know that? Even when we're in danger of getting caught, you think quickly."

Y/n bit her lip, looking away for a moment. "I was thinking... I think it's time to tell G. I don't want to hide it from him anymore. He'll understand when I tell him, right?"

Ollie nodded, squeezing her hands lightly. "Of course he will!" He smiled. "I'll do whatever you decide, love. No matter what happens, we face it together. Always."

Those words made Y/n smile, her eyes shining with emotion. She hugged him tightly, feeling grateful to have him by her side. "Thank you for being so understanding. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You won't have to find out," he replied, kissing the top of her head with a smile.

They stayed there for a few more minutes, enjoying the moment away from the watchful eyes of the paddock and exchanging soft caresses and vows of love.

Time passed, and the paddock was buzzing with activity. Drivers were milling around, some focused on practice and others engaged in casual conversation. George, still sweaty from his practice session, came out of the Mercedes garage, surveying the surroundings. Soon, he spotted Ollie chatting animatedly with Leclerc, Piastri and Antonelli.

Ollie gestured as he laughed at something, his hand resting on an iron barrier next to the group. George, distracted, fixed his eyes on the Haas driver. It was then that she noticed something glowing on his finger.

A ring. He frowned, feeling a slight sense of déjà vu. The ring was surprisingly similar to the one he had seen on Y/n’s hand earlier.

"It can't be..." He muttered to himself. He shook his head, trying to push the thought away.

Maybe it was just a coincidence, he thought. But the idea lingered in his mind as he walked back to the VIP room.

Upon entering, he saw Y/n standing on the balcony, holding a cup of coffee while watching the movement on the dance floor. The afternoon light reflected on her hair, and George felt a wave of nostalgia at seeing her there so calmly. It was hard to believe that his little sister, who he always wanted to protect, was growing up.

"Are you enjoying your day, Y/n?" He asked casually.

"Yes, everything is so busy today," she replied, without taking her eyes off the track.

George walked past her, but couldn’t help but look at her hand again. The same ring. He frowned again, but didn’t comment.

Instead, he looked around, searching for Carmen. "Have you seen Carmen? I didn't find her in the Mercedes hospitality room?" He asked, crossing his arms.

Y/n finished her coffee, placing the empty cup on the nearby table. "No, I didn't see her. Maybe she's in the paddock or talking to someone," she said, already starting to walk towards the exit.

George tried to call Carmen, but the call didn't go through. "Damn, my phone's dead." He stopped and looked at Y/n. "Can I use your phone? I need to try to talk to her."

Y/n, who already had her hand on the door, turned around with a casual smile. "Sure, here." She took her cell phone out of her pants pocket and handed it to her brother without hesitation. "You can use it as you please." She said as she told him the phone's password.

George thanked her as Y/n left, oblivious to what he was going to do next. With his phone in hand, he unlocked it with the intention of going to the dialer, but the first thing he saw was the messages tab open. He was about to close it when something caught his eye. At the top of the contact list was the name.

'Mi amore❤️'

Reflexively, he stopped, frowning again. Mi amore? The heart emoji was hard to ignore. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the chat. What he saw stopped him cold.

The messages were clearly between Yin and Ollie. There were pictures of them in the messages he quickly passed along. Conversations full of affection, inside jokes, and even some passionate confessions.

George didn't need to read much to understand what was going on. Y/n and Ollie...? The penny started to drop. The ring. The smiles. The discreet behavior of both. Everything made sense now.

As George absorbed the shock, Y/n walked around the paddock casually. From afar, she saw Ollie leaning against one of the barriers, waiting for her.

He smiled as soon as he saw her, that warm smile that always made Y/n feel special. She quickened her steps, and when they got close to each other, Ollie opened his arms, as if he wanted to hug her, but stopped when he remembered the public setting.

"Hi, mi amore" he said quietly, a sparkle in his eyes.

"Hi," she replied with a shy smile, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them.

The two began walking together, towards the paddock cafeteria, trying to keep the conversation casual while enjoying the rare moment of being together.

Meanwhile, in the VIP room, George was still holding Y/n's cell phone, his eyes fixed on the screen, completely surprised and trying to decide what to do with that information.

He barely noticed when Carmen entered the VIP room, smiling happily. But as soon as she noticed her boyfriend's pale, dazed gaze fixed on Y/n's phone, her smile disappeared.

"George? What's wrong?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.

He shook his head slowly, as if he was still trying to organize his thoughts. "I... I need to find Y/n," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

Carmen immediately noticed the phone in his hand and her eyes widened. "George... is that your sister's phone?" He looked at the device and then at his girlfriend, hesitantly. "Oh my God..." She murmured when she saw the wallpaper and the accessories that indicated that it belonged to Y/n.

Carmen sighed deeply, placing her hand on her forehead. He had figured it out.

Without another word, George hurried off, nervously walking around the paddock looking for Y/n. He barely noticed the glances that some of the team members were throwing his way. All he wanted was answers.

As he walked, something caught his attention. Chatter and laughter came from behind one of the garages. He stopped, recognizing Y/n's soft chuckle. Following the sound, George walked around the structure, only to find the scene of Y/n and Ollie, their backs to him, sharing a kiss and laughing together.

"Y/n?" George called, his voice firm but filled with surprise and a hint of frustration.

The two instantly pulled away, Y/n reflexively pushing Ollie away. She stared at her brother with wide eyes, while Ollie seemed frozen, trying to think of something to say.

"You don't have to move away" George said, holding up Y/n's phone. "I already know."

Y/n felt her heart sink in her chest. Ollie looked at her, worried. George continued, "When I went to call Carmen, her contact list was open. I saw the messages."

Y/n and Ollie stood completely still, as if time had stopped. Finally, George took a deep breath and asked, "How long have you two been together?"

Hesitantly, Y/n exchanged a look with Ollie before replying quietly, "A year..."

George's eyes widened, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "A YEAR?! Why didn't you guys tell me?"

Y/n stepped forward, trying to explain herself. "George, I... I thought it would be awkward for you. You and Ollie are racing rivals. I didn't want it to affect your work or our relationship as brothers."

He dropped his arms, frustration giving way to quiet sadness. "Did you really think that would make me treat you differently? That I would put this above your happiness?"

Y/n felt a lump in her throat, but managed to shake her head. "I was afraid... of disappointing you."

George closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing those words. "What about the families? Do they know?" He asked, already imagining the answer.

Reluctantly, Y/n nodded. "Yes... everyone knew but you. I'm sorry, George. It was never our intention to exclude you."

He sighed, shaking his head as he processed everything. "I understand," he said finally. "I understand that you wanted to protect things. But... it hurts me to know that you felt you couldn't trust me. You're my sister, Y/n. I will always want the best for you."

Y/n, moved, gave a small smile. "Thank you for understanding." George hugs his sister.

The Mercedes driver stepped closer, his eyes softening. He looked at Ollie, extending his hand. "Congratulations on your relationship... really."

Ollie, surprised, shook George's hand. "Thank you, George. That means a lot."

But then George narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at him, his tone becoming more serious though there was a hint of teasing. "Now, listen carefully. Take good care of my sister, Ollie. Because if you don't, things are going to get ugly for you."

Ollie laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Don't worry. I'm taking good care of her."

Y/n smiled, feeling the weight she was carrying finally dissipate. George, seeing the scene, gave a genuine smile and added, "Just please don't give me nephews TOO SOON, okay?"

The comment made Y/n blush and Ollie laugh, completely breaking the tension. "No rush, George" Ollie replied, winking at Y/n.

George shook his head, laughing along. He handed his phone to his sister, patted Ollie on the back, and walked away, looking more at ease.

Once they were alone, Ollie turned to Y/n, an amused smile on his face. "I thought he was going to freak out, but he was pretty calm... for a protective older brother."

Y/n laughed, feeling relieved. "I thought so too. I think he trusted you more than I expected him to."

Ollie put an arm around her shoulders. "Well, at least now we don't have to hide anymore."

She nodded, looking at him fondly. "Yes. Finally."

#fanfiction #y/n #imagines #lovers #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #fem reader #ollie bearman x reader #imagines ollie bearman #ollie bearman

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writingthroughmyass · 6 months ago

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Service Animal (Part one)

My mans Logan Howlett X Reader (afab)

Part two here

WARNING: This is soooo self insert it's not even funny. I get weird migraines that present like absent seizures and thought it would be nice to get a warning beforehand by my favourite babygirl Logan (like my own personal service animal). This is gonna be in three parts, it's mostly finished and ends in smooshing so be ready for that ;)

UPDATE: turns out my migraines are actually mini strokes :)

The after effects of using your power was kicking your ass.

In a daze, you made it to your private room and went straight to your bathroom. You felt the nausea rising up in your throat and quickly opened the toilet lid to throw up.

The multiple alternate realities of what could have happened tonight flashed before your eyes. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Logan, all collapsed on the floor, dead. Their screams played in a relentless loop in your head; you were dissociating badly. Your surroundings melted away until there was nothing but the countless ways they could have died if you hadn't bent reality to avoid it.

Always. It's always like this.

Gradually, you begin to return to your body, only to realise there was someone in the room with you, holding your hair back.

Terrified, your body snapped up from its kneeling position to face the intruder.

“Woah, hey, it's just me. Calm down.”

“L-Logan?” you slurred, suddenly feeling self conscious of the smell of your breath.

“I knocked and called out but you didn't answer. So I came in to check on you.”

You eyed him, feeling suspicious of how out of character this was for him.

“Why are you looking at me like I'm lying? I'm not totally heartless,” he said defensively.

“Why'd you come in the first place to see me though? I thought you were pissed with me,” you grumble.

When you'd overdone it with your powers, Logan threw a hissy fit and yelled at you for going too far. While you knew it was out of care, it still rankled you that he was acting as if you were a child. You knew what you were doing.

“I… just had a bad feeling,” he said quietly. “Y'know how I've got my heightened senses. I could tell something was off with you.”

“I'm fine. Just need to rest. This is normal for me.”

You turned around to the bathroom sink and grabbed your toothbrush. You gave your teeth and tongue a quick clean, wanting to just wash all the blood off your body so you could sleep.

It felt like you had a raging hangover from drinking Everclear all night.

When you turned from the sink you noticed Logan was still there.

“Uh… need something? I wanna get ready for bed and pass out.”

“Yeah, I need to know you're okay,” he says.

“I told you, I'm fine. I'm going to shower so please leave.”

Your patience was wearing thin. But you were also aware that some of it was nervousness coming out as aggression. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, although his attitude left much to be desired. His behaviour tonight was quite frankly really sweet and it was psyching you out. You were already in the midst of losing touch with reality and his actions were so contradictory to his usual self that it was causing you a psychotic break.

“You're not listening to me,” he ground out, losing some of his own patience. “I'm telling you that something is wrong with you.”

You stared silently at him, mouth slightly hanging open.

“Okay, that came out the wrong way.” He was ruffling his hair in agitation. Cute. “What I'm saying is- I'm… ah…”

“Please, Logan, I just want a shower so I can go to bed…”

“Look, I'll just wait in your room and I'll leave once you're in bed safe, ‘kay,” he says, turning to the door and walking out, shutting it behind himself.

Fuck.

You just wanted to be alone so you could have a good cry. You were incredibly confused about what in the world was going on but now you were really getting scared. And Logan's words were not helping.

What if he's right and this time your connection with reality has been completely severed? But what else were you supposed to do? Let them all die? Even with your special training with Charles, your power was so unruly and chaotic that it was terrifying. You had to be careful or there would be no way back.

You got undressed and turned on the shower, stepping inside. It was only once you were under the hot stream of water that you realised you'd left your pyjamas in your bedroom. You groaned aloud. Fuck, now you'd have to walk in front of Logan in nothing but a towel. Why the fuck was he here? You wished he'd just leave.

You watched the dried blood wash away from your skin, turning the floor of your shower a bright red.

You felt your stomach drop and your head turned fuzzy. The sound of your shower disappeared. The safety of your surroundings melted away.

Scott, his eyes gouged out from his head. Ororo’s limbs crumpled every which way, her eyes clouded over not because of her powers but because she was lifeless. Jean, her neck holding on to her body by a thread, her cranium blasted open and her brain dripping down her face.

Logan, on the ground, ripped to shreds, his Adamantium bones showing through his torn flesh. And the wounds weren't healing.

It was always like this. As if you were being punished for playing god. It was as if all the horrible realities you prevented from happening still lived on but solely in your mind, driving you insane. It left scars of trauma on your psyche, Charles had told you. So you had to be careful in how you used your powers or you may become completely untethered from reality. A fate worse than death.

Vaguely, you could hear yourself mumbling and gasping and swallowing loudly, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the mess of your mind.

You were trying desperately to connect back with your body but at the same time you didn't want to because it only meant having to fight this same battle over and over again.

Seeing your friends die before your very eyes in hundreds of thousands of different ways, experiencing each traumatic story to its conclusion. Only to have it all unravel into a reality where none of it happened, but the whiplash makes you doubt this reality too. It's always too good to be true. You feel it in your bones that you don't deserve this. That the way you twist reality is wrong and one day it'll catch up to you in the worst possible way.

You feel water running down your face and remember that you're in the shower. You try to ground yourself and come back to your body. You hear the water splashing, feel the ground beneath your feet, the solid embrace around you.

You try to move but you can't. Finally, you snap fully to your body. Your mind is groggy, feeling like you'd been hit by a truck. But there's the unmistakable warmth surrounding you, dense and as unyielding as brick.

Your face is roughly yanked upwards and you open your eyes.

“Fuck, finally! Are you alright?”

You stare blearily, mouth open and dry from the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body just moments ago.

Bright hazel eyes. Huh. So pretty. You'd never noticed.

You realise you're not supporting your own weight. You're finally aware that Logan has you in an embrace, holding your body up, one hand around your waist and the other on your jaw as he looks into your face. The water on your face isn't from the shower, you realise. It's your tears.

“Bloody hell, please say something,” he says angrily. You feel some of your own anger flare up in response. What's his problem?

“Fuck,” you croak.

You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he laughs, suddenly aware that you're as naked as the day you were born and this man is fully clothed standing in your shower, getting his white singlet wet. Giving you a bear hug…

Your brain short circuits as you try to come up with words, feeling your whole body heat with embarrassment.

“W-what are you doing in here?” you manage to slur.

“Helping your ass,” he says roughly. “Can you stand?”

Fuck, good question. Can I stand??

“C-close your eyes first,” you demand.

“Bit late to be feeling shy now don't you think?” he teases with a wink.

“Just close ‘em!” you yell at him.

He laughs before complying.

You extricate yourself from his arms, turning off the shower, then navigate carefully around him to exit the cubicle. You grab a towel and cover yourself, making a mental note to grab a clean one later since this one was definitely dirty now.

“Okay, open your eyes and get out, please.”

He turns to look at you.

“Don't think that's a good idea, bub.”

“And why is that?” you huff impatiently.

“What if you collapse in the shower again?” he says matter of factly.

“I've been having these things for a long time. I've managed to survive so far so don't stress about it.”

“It's different now though, isn't it? You've been having these for a long time, you said so yourself, and they're only getting worse instead of better.”

You sigh heavily in frustration. You hated that he was right.

“So what exactly are you suggesting?”

Your heart was beating like crazy. He better not suggest what you think he was going to suggest.

“I'm sure old Chuckie boy wouldn't mind lending you his shower chair for the night,” he smirked.

You laughed out loud despite the tension in the room. He always managed to make you laugh.

“Yeah, I'm just going to wake up an old man in the middle of the night to ask if I can borrow his shower chair,” you joked, lightly slapping him on the shoulder.

He laughed along with you then you both shared a few moments of comfortable silence. Only for him to break it with-

“My other suggestion is to shower with me so I can make sure you don't faint and hurt yourself.”

You stared at him distrustfully.

“Hey, look, I'm not being a pervert, it's just the only solution I can think of on the fly,” he placates, hands raised as if to say I'm innocent and unarmed.

“Right…”

You stopped to think for a second, your muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation.

It made you especially uncomfortable that you didn't exactly have your full mental faculties about you.

But Logan was a good friend. You'd fought beside him many times before and you saw that you could trust him. But… he was still a man. A man much bigger and stronger than you.

“Can I trust you?” you asked falteringly. What a stupid idea to ask the opinion of someone fully in power over you.

“I promise I won't do anything without you wanting it. This is entirely your choice.”

You looked him in the eyes, trying to find a trace of falsehood in them. But you only saw honeyed eyes, dripping with conviction. The same conviction you'd seen many times before when he was protecting those he loved.

You felt yourself feel a little calmer.

“Okay… but you better not break your promise. Or I'll sick Charles and his shower chair on you.”

“I won't. I just want to keep you safe,” he said in a low, serious voice.

You felt a fluttering behind your ribs. Fuck… I'm about to shower with this incredibly attractive asshole.

“Okay… you get in first,” you said.

“Yes, ma'am,” he said a little too cheerily.

You turned around to give him privacy to undress. You heard the rustle of his clothes then a thump as he dropped them on the floor of your bathroom.

Should've known he'd be a slob…

You heard the shower turn on and you braced yourself for what was to come next.

You turned towards the shower, keeping your head down and eyes averted. You removed your towel and stepped into the shower, still not looking at Logan and ignoring his presence, which was hard to do in your little shower. Thankfully he was turned away respectfully.

You stood behind him, turned away from his body. You took your soap and began to lather it over yourself as you usually did when you showered.

“Would you like a hand with your back?” Logan spoke up.

You paused as you weighed up the question in your mind.

“Sure,” you said quietly, trying to keep yourself calm.

This is totally normal. We're just friends having a shower. Together.

You turned your back and heard him applying soap to his hands. Slowly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he began to rub your back, starting with your shoulders. You felt yourself give an involuntary shiver.

“Are you cold? Do you need the water a bit hotter?” he asked you.

“No, it's fine. The temperature is okay with you?”

“Yeah, bub, just perfect.”

His hands felt massive against your back. He massaged your neck for a few seconds before moving down your shoulder blades towards your middle back.

“Did-did you want me to do your back too?” you asked, trying to hide how nervous you were.

“Since you're offering, sure,” he said gruffly. You turned towards him at the same moment he turned away from you, unfortunately catching a glimpse of his insane fucking abs, but thankfully managing not to make eye contact.

You soaped up your hands and began with his neck, trying not to notice how thick and muscular his traps were.

God… this is hell but also heaven.

You ran your hands across his ridiculously broad shoulders and down his middle back, avoiding going too low lest you caress his stupid, tight ass.

“I'm going to wash my hair, okay?” you told him, unsure of why you were asking permission.

“Don't know why you're asking my permission.” Fuck. You were being weird. “But I can do the same right?” he responded, holding in laughter.

You felt your face go hot.

“D-do what you want,” you said petulantly.

You took the shampoo bottle, squeezing what you needed for yourself before handing it to him over his shoulder, which he thankfully kept turned to you in respect.

You both washed your hair in silence. You already felt a bit better. You dreamily thought of your bed as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair.

You then grabbed the conditioner and squeezed some into your hand.

“Need the conditioner?” you asked Logan.

“What for?” he asked, confused.

“For your hair, duh.”

“Nah, I'm good. Haven't had to use it so far in my life, won't start now. Need a hand with washing your hair?”

You knew he was trying to be helpful. But it felt so, so wrong. Like overstepping your relationship as friends. But then again… would you ever get the chance again to have an incredibly sexy man wash your hair for you?

“Sure,” you said stiffly.

Silence, then his hand moved around you to grab the bottle from you.

“Ah-” you already had some conditioner in your hand. You were about to tell him but decided to keep quiet as he worked on your hair.

His fingers… so thick and strong yet gentle through your hair, over your scalp. You couldn't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation.

It was over too soon and he stepped away from you again. You tipped your head to rinse your hair, giving your face a quick scrub with water while you were at it; fuck your skin routine, you were going straight to bed.

“I'm going to step out first,” you informed him.

He grunted in reply and you stepped from the shower, grabbing two clean towels from your bathroom cupboard. You covered yourself with one and half turned your body to Logan, gaze still averted from his direction.

“Here ya go,” you tried to say cheerily, offering the towel to him.

“Thanks,” he said and grabbed it from your hand. You quickly moved to the door.

“Wait until I say you can come in,” you said before closing the door behind you.

Fuuuuucccckkkkk.

This was not helping you to relax at all.

You dried yourself quickly and threw your pyjamas on.

“I'm done!” you called through the door.

He stepped out with his towel wrapped around his stupid, slutty waist. You could see his happy trail adorning his abs. His enormous pecs, his dog tags resting in the dip of his gorgeous chest.

“Hey, bub, my eyes are up here,” he teases.

You swallow thickly and glare at his stupid, smirking face.

“Have I ever told you I hate you?” you retort, only succeeding in making him laugh.

“How are you feeling now?” he says softly, suddenly serious.

“I'm… exhausted. I usually sleep a lot after an episode.”

He nods in understanding.

“You'll be okay if I leave?”

This gives you pause. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd say, “Please stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.”

But you weren't honest with yourself.

“Thanks for looking out for me, Logan. I really appreciate it and sorry for putting you out. I'll be okay. You can go to bed now if you want.”

He looked at you in silence. He stepped towards you, so close that you had to look up to keep eye contact. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. Fuck he runs hot.

“You mean it, right? You're okay to be alone?”

You stared at him, a little bit dumbfounded. Was he able to read minds or something?

“Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be in bed so I can't exactly fall,” you chuckled.

He didn't laugh with you. Only watched you carefully.

“Okay. I'll respect what you say you want,” he says carefully.

Again, this is so out of character for him that you second guess yourself whether you're in reality or not.

You watch as he turns to the bathroom and grabs his clothes from the floor then goes towards the door to the hall.

“Hey-w-wait-y-you're not going out like that are you?” you stutter in disbelief.

He turns back to you.

“What else am I going to do?” he asks incredulously.

Clueless.

“Put your clothes back on,” you retort.

“Ew, you're a bit of a slob, aren't you? They're dirty and covered with blood and who knows what or who else.”

You deadpanned.

“What if… what if you stayed here for the night?” you blurted out without thinking. You flinch at your own words.

Logan pauses with his hand on the door knob.

“I don't exactly have my pyjamas here with me,” he says slowly.

“I've already seen and touched you naked. What's the difference?” you hear yourself say.

What the fuck am I saying?

“I-I mean, surely I have something that can fit you,” you amend quickly. His face seems to go slack in surprise.

“Wow. You really want it, huh?” he smirks at you.

You ignore the heat that overtakes your whole body.

“N-never mind! Fuck off already,” you say sourly.

“Hey, I'm just joking,” he laughs. “I can definitely stay if it helps you feel better.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself melt a little bit.

“It… it would. Help me feel better, I mean.”

Having him near you would help remind you that this is real, you justify.

“Alright then,” he nods to you. “Some clothes would be great.”

“Ah, sure, give me a second.”

You quickly go to your wardrobe to locate the loosest pair of pants you own. He'll just have to sleep shirtless, there's no way you have a top that will fit over his broad shoulders.

You find a dark grey pair of trackies and turn back to him.

“Try these.”

“Thanks,” he says as he takes it from your hand.

As he moves back to the bathroom you jump into bed to wait. Your bed never felt so fucking good.

You've barely settled under the covers when Logan reappears from the bathroom, his hair still wet and dripping down his neck. You do your best not to stare.

He moves towards you and lifts the covers to slip into bed with you.

This is just a sleepover, you tell yourself. Like when you have a friend over for the night.

Logan slots himself into your bed alongside you and you become suddenly aware of how small your double bed is. The frame creaks loudly from the weight of him and his Adamantium bones.

“Comfy?” you ask.

He turns in the bed so he's facing you. A smile slowly makes its way to his face and you find you can't breathe for a second.

“Yeah, definitely,” he murmurs.

“Alright, sweet, g’night then,” you say quickly, turning away from him to still your beating heart. Fuck, I hope he can't hear my heart right now.

“Are you sure you're ready to sleep? Your heart is beating pretty fast,” he points out cooly.

Mother fucker.

“So… you have heightened senses right? Kind of.. like a dog?” I'm not thinking straight, why am I trying to piss him off?

“Thought you were going to sleep,” he grunted. The sound of his gravelly voice did something to you. But you ignored it.

“It just kind of reminds me of those service dogs, y'know the ones that can sense when their owner is going to have a seizure? I mean, I know I don't have seizures exactly, but I guess it presents sort of like one.”

“What are you trying to say?” he asks gruffly. He doesn't like it when people compare him to dogs. You're just grateful you can't see the look on his face right now.

“I'm just wondering how you can tell? What is it exactly that you're sensing? It's always interested me,” you say honestly.

He grunts again and goes quiet before answering.

“I can smell it. Can't even explain what it actually smells like. But that's how I know, although it isn't always accurate.”

“That's really interesting.” And you mean it. It really is interesting… although the implications concerning his sense of smell have you a little bit paranoid…

“So that's why I'm telling you to listen to me when I fucking tell you to stop with your powers. You could've killed yourself tonight,” he grinds out, anger in his voice.

“Logan… you need to understand where I'm coming from. You all died tonight. Like literally, right before my very eyes, you were all dead. What do you expect me to do?”

You feel tears pricking your eyes, the lump in your throat is choking you.

“I… I can't talk about this right now okay?” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Okay… okay, I'm sorry,” his voice softens. “Please, just get some sleep, okay? Guide dog’s orders.”

And just like that you're laughing again, feeling a tear running down your cheek to your pillow. You were so grateful to have him in your life. You were also grateful he couldn't see you crying right now.

“Alright, g'night, puppy,” you tease.

“‘Night,” he says softly.

A minute passes and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. You smile to yourself, knowing that you have your own personal “service animal” to keep you safe tonight.

#logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine imagine #wolverine #Logan being cute and worried and caring uwu #I saw dp and wolverine and fell in love dont know why it took me seeing his hairy 55 year old abs for this to happen #I never crushed on this man during xmen but idk he fucking got to me in that movie ok #i stan a guilt ridden man with low self esteem put your penis inside me right now #ass writes stuff

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imnotditzy · 3 months ago

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Imagine if Billy didn’t know Shazam died?

(This is actually apart of my AU lol)

But what if Billy didn’t know Shazam, the Wizard, was actually dead? Like maybe he did see Shazam get crushed by rocks but he just thinks a Wizard could survive that, Or he doesn’t remember meeting Shazam for whatever reason. (Like he knows it happened because his pantheon told him so, and he remembers like a tiny bit of being at the RoE, but maybe he doesn’t remember Shazam dying)

This would be kinda funny to think about, especially if the pantheon’s trying desperately not to let Billy know Shazam died. But they occasionally slip up, and each time they do Billy gets slightly more suspicious. Also, in my AU since Billy and Marvel and separate entities, I think it would be funny aswell if Marvel didn’t know either. (—which I do have an AU explanation to make it work, but I fear I may be getting too off track already.)

—

Heracles: Shazam was a good wizard.

Marvel: Was?

Heracles: IS, is. I simply misspoke—Shazam is a good wizard.

Marvel: Oh… 🧐

Billy: 🤨

—

Imagine if literally every other magic being knows Shazam’s dead, but Captain’s just none the wiser and tries to talk to them about the Wizard.

—

Zatanna: So…how’d you get your powers?

Billy (as Cap): Oh, by this Wizard, his name’s, uh…

grabs a piece of paper and scribbles the name down

Zatanna: Shazam?

Billy: Yup! Gave me my powers, have you heard of him? I think he’s very well known. I haven’t seen him in a while. Hope he’s still doing alright.

Zatanna (Going pale at the mention of a very much dead Wizard being referred to in present tense): Mhm….yeah…

—

(the league in the cafeteria, listening to one of the rare times they got Captain to talk about themself. —Billy’s just procrastinating going outside in the midwestern November cold.)

Billy: So I got my powers from this Wizard, his names…um. I think I told Zatanna? Captain looks over at her.

Zatanna (going pale): Really. I don’t remember.

Billy: Oh, okay, that’s fine! Here.

Grabs a piece of paper and scribbles down the name.

Superman: Shazam?

Every magic user in the cafeteria freezes.

Billy: Yeah! He’s the wizard who gave me my powers. I haven’t seen him since I became Captain Marvel, though. I should really go talk to him, maybe I’ll do that later.

****

Achilles: But what if we didn’t…

Hercules: How about we don’t…

Solomon: That wouldn’t be a good choice, Billy.

Zeus: I agree, you’d be just of a fool as Atlas to go.

Atlas (offended): Wow.

****

Zatanna (uncomfortable): I don’t think you should…

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inkspiredwriting · 4 months ago

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Hickey Havoc

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

The Hargreeves mansion was unusually quiet on this crisp morning. The siblings, each engrossed in their own activities, had gathered for breakfast in the large, sunlit kitchen. Luther was eating, Allison was flipping through her phone, Klaus was applying nail polish, Viktor was reading a newspaper, Ben was sipping coffee, and Diego was sharpening his knives.

Five strode into the kitchen, his usually impeccable suit slightly askew, and his collar turned up. He looked around suspiciously, as if expecting an ambush.

"Morning," he muttered, heading straight for the coffee pot.

Klaus, paused mid-brush stroke. "Morning, Five," he said, his tone overly innocent. "Have a good night?"

Five gave him a sidelong glance. "What’s it to you?"

"Oh, nothing," Klaus replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Just curious if you’ve… been anywhere interesting."

Diego, sensing something, glanced up. "Yeah, Five. You seem… different today."

"Different?" Five asked, trying to keep his tone nonchalant as he poured his coffee.

"Yeah," Diego said, his eyes narrowing. "Like maybe you’ve been… marked."

Five stiffened, almost spilling his coffee. "What are you talking about?"

Klaus leaned in closer, pointing at Five’s neck. "I think what Diego means is… did you get attacked by a vampire last night?"

Five’s hand shot up to his collar, trying to cover the hickey he’d been desperately trying to hide. "It’s nothing. Just… a bruise."

Luther raised an eyebrow, finally catching on. "A bruise? Looks more like someone’s been… having fun."

"Very funny," Five grumbled, but his cheeks tinged pink.

Allison, now fully interested, leaned over to get a better look. "Oh my God, is that really a hickey?"

Viktor, setting the newspaper down, tried to hide his grin. "Never thought I’d see the day."

Ben chuckled into his coffee. "Looks like Five’s been busy."

Before Five could come up with a retort, Y/n, Klaus's best friend, and now Five's girlfriend, walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep and wearing one of Five’s shirts. She yawned, stretching, and then froze as she realized the entire family was staring at her.

"What’s going on?" Y/n asked, looking around at the faces of Five’s siblings.

"Oh, nothing," Klaus said, with exaggerated casualness. "Just admiring Five’s new… accessory."

Y/n’s eyes widened as she realized they were talking about the hickey. "Oh no," she muttered, touching her neck where a similar mark was visible.

"Matching hickeys!" Diego exclaimed, laughing. "This is too good."

"And you," Allison said, pointing to Y/n. "You’re the culprit!"

Y/n turned a bright shade of red, tugging at the collar of Five’s shirt. "It’s… not what it looks like."

"Right," Luther said, smirking. "Because it doesn’t look like you and Five had a wild night or anything."

"Honestly," Ben said, laughing. "That's hilarious."

"There are no details," Five snapped, though he couldn’t hide his smile. "It’s none of your business."

"Oh, but it is," Klaus said, leaning back with a triumphant grin. "When you sneak around like that, it becomes very much our business."

"Sneak around?" Five asked, raising an eyebrow. "We weren’t sneaking around. We were—"

"Having a stormy night?" Viktor suggested, his eyes twinkling.

Y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. "You guys are impossible."

After the morning’s teasing, Five and Y/n retreated to the living room to escape the relentless jokes from Five's siblings. They sat on the couch, trying to find some peace.

"I can’t believe they noticed," Y/n said, shaking her head. "How do they even notice stuff like that?"

"They’re nosy," Five replied, rubbing his temples. "And they love having something to tease me about."

"Well, it’s not like we were hiding anything," Y/n said, though she was blushing.

"I didn’t think they’d be this relentless," Five admitted. "But then again, they’re the Hargreeves."

Y/n laughed, leaning against him. "At least we gave them something to talk about."

"Yeah," Five said, wrapping an arm around her. "But maybe next time we should be a bit more careful."

"Or not," Y/n said, grinning up at him. "Let them have their fun."

Five sighed, but he couldn’t help but smile. "You’re right. It’s just a hickey. Not the end of the world."

Y/n kissed his cheek. "Exactly. And hey, at least now they know we’re together."

"True," Five said, chuckling. "Though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing."

"Definitely a good thing," Y/n said, snuggling closer. "Let them tease. We know what we have."

That evening, the siblings gathered for dinner, still buzzing about the morning’s discovery. Five and Y/n walked in together, holding hands, and the teasing began anew.

"Look who decided to join us," Diego said, smirking. "The lovebirds."

"Did you have a nice nap?" Klaus asked, winking. "Or were you… otherwise occupied?"

"Guys," Five said, rolling his eyes. "Can we just eat dinner without any comments about our… activities?"

"No promises," Allison said, smiling. "But we’ll try."

"That’s all we ask," Y/n said, squeezing Five’s hand under the table.

As dinner progressed, the teasing subsided, but not without a few more jabs about their "secret" relationship. In the end, Five and Y/n laughed along with them, realizing that no matter how much they were teased, they wouldn’t trade this family—or each other—for anything.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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azrielwingspan · 1 year ago

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'Someone' (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: The IC try to pry into your life and find out who you're crushing on.

Warnings : Noooone.

He was devastatingly handsome. Unfortunately for you, it did not bode well. You were supposed to be focusing on the meeting taking place and yet all you could think about was the shadowsinger seated opposite you.

"It would be best if we were to implement our previous strategy. What do you think Y/N?"

You snapped out of your daze and blinked slowly at your brother seated next to you. He looked at you expectantly as Cassian tried to stifle a laugh.

"Uhhh...yeah..we must...indeed." you choked out.

FOOL FOOL FOOOOOL. You screamed at yourself in your head trying your level best to get back your bearings and steer the meeting in your favor.

"Although, I do think we should discuss the previous strategy in detail and draw up a plan b in case things go south."

The others at the table nodded in agreement and you held in your sigh of relief. Rhys threw a suspicious glance your way but held his tongue. The people closest to you would describe you as an extremely focused and high functioning individual. Surprisingly for them and you , you were anything but that at the moment.

Azriel hadn't uttered a single word throughout the meeting instead choosing to listen attentively and observe , his usual mannerism. You stole another glance at him and froze. Fuck.

His eyes were trained on you, the gold piercing through the flecks of green and brown. Expression unreadable, he raised an eyebrow at your befuddled face. Giving him a crooked smile and almost wincing at how you must have looked, you turned your attention back to the matter at hand. Fantastic. Absolutely, truly fucking fantastic.

Putting in a ton of conscious effort, you managed to get through the rest of the meeting without making a fool of yourself again. Eventually, the conversation at the table turned into casual chatter. After all, everyone at this table was like family. You would fight for every single one of them.

"Y/N was heartbroken. It was rather funny to be quite frank." your head snapped in the direction of Mor who was shooting you a devious grin. It took a few seconds for the realization to kick in and you almost hid your face from absolute mortification. Today was going terrible.

"I was 25!! A CHILD in fae years." You defended yourself hiding your face in your hands. Laughter rose around the table and you sank further into your chair.

"Wait.." Feyre wiped a tear off the corner of her eye, trying to hold in her laughter. "so you're telling me, Y/N fell in love with a stable boy who was terrified of her? Why was he scared? What did you do?"

"She has this weird smile she ..." Rhys saw the glare you directed his way and a smug grin made its way onto his face.

"Okay..okay..I'm sure your love life has improved since then Y/N. Tell me, who is the unlucky guy these days?" Cassian asked sending everyone into a fit on raucous laughter yet again.

You were sure that everyone had noticed the way your shoulders tensed slightly. Cursing yourself for not doing a better job at hiding your emotions, you gave a casual shrug. "No one."

"Riiiiight." Cassian leaned back in his chair and looked to Azriel who had a small smile playing on his lips.

"What do you think Az? You're the spymaster after all."

"I don't pry into others personal lives brother." Azriel leaned forward placing his elbows on the table. "But...I might know who it is."

A flare of shock pulsed through you causing your heart to thump against your chest. Azriel noticed the change in your posture and let a small smirk slide onto his face. Handsome cocky bastard. Did he know?

You didn't think so. Aside from today, you had never given a hint of anything being strange or weird. He was probably playing mind games with you.

"So there is someone then." Mor's eyes twinkled , the makings of plan behind her eyes to glean the information from you later. You told Mor everything. After all, you were the best of friends. Which is why, you couldn't bring yourself to reveal this massive crush on Azriel yet. You knew Mor didn't love him that way and yet you couldn't speak to her about it.

"You guys are delusional. There is absolutely no one and I'm quite content thankyou very much. Also, spymaster..." you emphasized his title, giving him a sour smile "you need to brush up on your skills."

Azriel bowed his head trying to hide the grin blooming on his lips. "Now...if all of you are done gossiping about my non existent love life, I'm going to go spend some quality time with my new book." You left the room before any of them could notice the red blooming high on your cheeks. What you failed to notice however was a tendril of shadow reporting to its master about your flustered state.

That night as you were drifting off to sleep, a note was slid under the door into you room. It read

"It's hard not to pry when you're involved."- 'Someone'

You would be starting your morning with a heart attack tomorrow.

PART 2 OUT NOW ! READ HERE

Part 2 sneak peek here !

A/N: Let me know if you guys have any scenarios or ideas you want to read about. Would love to hear about them!

#azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar series #azriel x female!reader #azriel fic #azriel fluff

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bubbleberryuniverse · 6 months ago

Text

- GHOST PERI AU -

(AKA Petrified!Peri because that name is cool as FUCK.)

REFERENCES ALSO AVAILABLE HERE!

REGULAR COLORS / HIS BODY [NOT GHOST]

GHOST COLORS / HIM AS A GHOST

SO. You may be asking, "what happened to him?" And I am here to EXPLAIN! :]

This AU is still a fairly [pun unintended] big WIP, so some details are still all over the place/undecided, and some may change over time; constructive criticism, opinions/thoughts, questions, are all appreciated!

The general idea is, well... divergent from the finale. What if, after the chip is grabbed and Hazel, Wanda, [and maybe Cosmo? I don't recall if he goes with them/ends up somewhere else] go to fix the wand, Peri explodes. And it gets undone when Hazel wishes to fix Fairy World. Buuuttt... not quite!

It wasn't her 1 Millionth Wish that she used up on Fairy World— which is why it Doesn't Quite Fix Him Going Kaboomey. But I imagine that having 1Mil Wishes had a mild influence on What Happened and why exploding DID get fixed... sort of. [I need to brainstorm specifics on this.]

ANYWAY.

Peri looks GENERALLY normal most of the time, except for, well, *gestures at reference.* Outside of THAT [cracked wand, cracked crown [crack hidden by the glow], slightly off color pallete], there's some other stuff that's just a Hint of Wrong.

Like coughing up confetti and/or rainbows [without any other sign of magical backup [which he can't experience anymore because he did technically already die via backup.]] And sometimes the funny silly wacky expressions that happened during buildup [big ol' eyes/pupils, star shaped pupils, funny faces [like when he was talking to Dev.]

Throwing this in here. Sometimes he just stares like the TBH Creature. It's kinda silly kinda funny. I need to make a Petrified!Peri TBH emote because that fits well.

I was ALSO thinking about the idea that sometimes limbs can detach [the ghost fairy in that one ep is what gave me this thought], mostly for expressive purposes/fun silly purposes. It can be seen in this image here! Still DEBATING on this, though.

ANYWAY.

Cosmo and Wanda Don't Know He Died [because of not being right there] But something Is Off. Peri probably doesn't at first either until they [themself] put it together through context clues, and then they're like, "ooohh no, mom and dad probably don't know I exploded!" And he gets REALLY nervous about them finding out because that'd be A Lot and he doesn't want to Worry Them [because... he fucking died.]

So. There's a lot of him just trying not to Act Suspicious. Which only makes them both concerned! I have so many silly funny interactions between them that I imagine, actually!

Like...

Peri: *Talking. Suddenly... star pupils!*

Wanda: Um. Sweetie?

Peri: Hey do you see that?

Cosmo: Oooh, see what?

Peri: Over there! *Points.*

Cosmo + Wanda: *Looks over.*

Peri: *Disappears.*

WHICH. YEAH. SO. GHOST FORM. They're completely hidden when they're actually a GHOST, and has no wand/wings when they're a ghost, either [they do have wings normally, I just forgot to include them in the reference.] And I imagine whenever they poof into their ghost form that they leave a tiny bit of confetti behind!

ALSO.

He reassigns himself to Dev on his own [who didn't forget after the finale.] And his magic is kind of fucked up. Cause he's DEAD and look at his fucking WAND. So wishes kinda get fucked up when granted a bit sometimes ehehehaha...

ANYWAY.

I am also dumping my Peri headcanons onto him. They're transmasc nonbinary and use he/they pronouns and they're also aroace! :3

PLEASE. PLEASE send me any asks if you have any questions! You don't have to ask to draw them, either— just tag me in any art if you ever make any, please! :]

#fairly oddparents a new wish #fairly oddparents #fop #fop a new wish #fopanw #fop:anw #fop: a new wish #fairly oddparents: a new wish #fop au #periwinkle fairly oddparents #perwinkle fairywinkle cosma #peri fop #peri fairly oddparents #fop poof #alternate universe #fop spoilers #petrified!peri au

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thyras · 21 days ago

Text

→ of sage blossoms & fairytales

PAIRING → annatar | sauron x female!elf!reader

WORD COUNT → 9.3k words

SERIES → of sauron & the moriquendi

WARNINGS → 18+ MDNI - unprotected p in v, fingering, breeding kink, semi-public sex

SUMMARY → you are willing to give your husband another chance and open up parts of your new life to him, hoping it will guide him towards the light once more.

AUTHORS NOTE → so we are finally here, finally to the glorious reunion smut. this took me 6 fucking days to write and by the time I was done I wanted rip my hair out 😩 I wanted the smut to be perfect in every way so yeah. hope y’all enjoy 💕

PARTS → masterlist

As the days passed, you began to notice a subtle shift in your husband’s behavior. He grew quieter, his usual calculated demeanor softening into one of quiet observation. Yet his eyes never left you. They followed your every move—when you entered a room, lingered late to finish correspondence, or prepared for the next day’s work. There was something in his gaze, something that left you uneasy yet inexplicably drawn to him after everything that had transpired between you.

On this particular evening, he chose not to linger in the shadows as he often did. Instead, he made his presence known. Silently, he approached from behind, the faint rustle of his robes the only warning of his arrival. A wine glass appeared at your side, set down with careful precision as you sat surrounded by parchments and tomes. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows across his features as he moved into your line of sight, his presence commanding yet oddly soothing.

You straightened slightly, your finger hovering over the glass as you gave him a suspicious glance. “It isn’t poisoned, is it?”

Annatar chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “No,” he replied smoothly, his voice laced with an amused warmth.

Still, you hesitated. Picking up the glass, you studied the dark liquid inside before taking a tentative sip. “Not for Maiar, that is,” he added with a sly grin, the edges of his lips curling upward in an expression that was equal parts playful and dangerous.

His remark caught you off guard. The wine burned as it caught in your throat, and you sputtered, choking mid-sip. He watched you, utterly unrepentant, his smile widening into something dazzling, his amusement barely concealed.

Coughing to clear your throat, you shot him a sharp glare. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head with mock solemnity, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed him. As you regained your composure, he moved to sit beside you, his movements fluid and deliberate, like a predator settling into a resting position.

You tried to ignore him, turning your attention back to your work. The scratching of your quill on parchment filled the silence as you scribbled notes, refusing to acknowledge his presence. For a time, he let the quiet settle between you, his gaze heavy but unspoken.

Until, finally, he broke it. “Tell me about Erynwen. Why—”

“Erynwen is none of your concern,” you cut him off sharply, your tone as cold as the ink drying on the page before you. You did not look up at him, your quill continuing its steady march across the parchment as though his question had not unsettled you.

But Annatar was not so easily dismissed. He leaned forward slightly, his voice soft yet insistent. “Surely you do not expect me to believe that.”

You paused, your hand faltering for just a moment before continuing to write. “Believe what you wish,” you replied curtly, though your voice lacked the firmness you intended.

He tilted his head, watching you intently, his presence pressing closer. “You speak her name with such care, but the walls you build around her tell me far more than your silence ever could.”

Your jaw tightened, and you clenched your quill, your writing forgotten. The air between you grew heavy with unspoken tension, the candlelight casting both of your faces in stark relief.

“Let it go,” you said finally, your voice low and steely, though it wavered ever so slightly. You dared a glance at him, his expression unreadable, a mask of calm that somehow only made him seem more dangerous.

He did not reply immediately, his eyes searching yours as though weighing your words. Then, slowly, he leaned back, a faint, enigmatic smile playing at his lips. “As you wish,” he said, though his tone suggested anything but surrender.

The moment passed, and you returned to your work, but the weight of his presence remained. Even as he sat silently beside you, you could feel the currents of his thoughts swirling around you, relentless and unreadable. You sighed deeply and set your quill down, the oppressive silence pressing in around you. The weight of his gaze was unyielding, and you knew he wouldn’t let the matter drop until you spoke.

“Erynwen is a lovely little girl,” you began, your voice soft. “She has a pure heart. She lost her mother when she was born, and her father... he couldn’t care for her. So he brought her here.”

“And you took her in?” he prompted, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You say that like I take in abandoned children as if they’re lost puppies or something.” He didn’t respond, only motioned for you to continue with an infuriatingly patient look. You sighed, reluctantly giving in. “I don’t recall that happening often—”

“Your ducklings?” he interrupted with a mischievous smile, his tone teasing. Your face grew warm at the memory, a bittersweet tinge accompanying the thought of the children who once followed you with boundless energy and wonder. They had clung to you, looking up with wide, trusting eyes as you guided them through lessons, preparing them for life.

“I was their teacher,” you exclaimed, attempting to sound dismissive, though the fondness in your voice betrayed you.

“I know,” he said, his smile softening. Slowly, he reached across the table and took your hand in his. His touch was warm, grounding, as if he meant to anchor you to the present. “I am happy that you have found that once more, Mori. But—”

“It isn’t healthy,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, a confession pulled from the deepest recesses of your mind. It was a thought you had kept buried for so long, one you had only dared to confront in the quiet, lonely hours of the night. “This... need. This obsession I’ve had for so long, to have a child. It’s driven me down paths I—” You faltered, the words catching in your throat. “It’s brought me nothing but sorrow.”

His thumb brushed lightly over the back of your hand, a silent encouragement to continue.

“But this—having Erynwen—” you began again, your voice stronger now, “it isn’t sorrowful. It isn’t... it isn’t just about filling some void inside me. I’ve always felt called to nurture, to love those who are most vulnerable. It’s what I’m good at. It’s what I’ve always been meant to do.”

He studied you quietly, his expression unreadable but not unkind. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows across his face, but his eyes remained steady, locked on yours.

You sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “If you want to prove your desire to change, then...” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “Then how about you join us tomorrow? I’m sure she’d enjoy the company of someone other than just me.”

His silence lingered, and when he nodded, it carried with it a gravity you didn’t yet know how to name. You stood and carefully slid the parchments into the tome before you, closing it with deliberate precision. Turning to him, you smoothed the front of your robes, as much to steady your hands as to avoid his unwavering gaze.

“I must retire for the night, my lord,” you said softly, offering him a parting smile. Your voice was steady, though your heart threatened to betray you with its rapid cadence. “I have forgiven you for breaking my heart, Mairon, but for the rest... you will have to earn it in other ways.”

A flicker of something—determination, perhaps—crossed his face at your words. “Then I will strive to do so,” he replied, his voice low and filled with quiet resolve. “Good night, my lady.”

A warmth crept across your cheeks as the words left his lips, the formality stirring something deep within you. No matter the pain and the centuries of distance, you could not deny the way your fëa resonated with his. You had always loved the sound of that title coming from his mouth, the reverence in his tone a reminder of what you were to him. You were his—created by Eru himself as your fëa’s match. And no matter how much you tried to deny it, the song that bound you to him still sang in harmony, deep and undeniable.

You inclined your head, a gesture both courteous and distant, before turning away. Each step down the stairs felt heavier than it should have, as though the air itself clung to you, urging you to linger. Yet you pressed on, your resolve firm.

As you disappeared into the corridor, you could still feel it—his presence, his shadow. It crept across your senses, not with the cold weight of darkness, but like the familiar warmth of an embrace you had long since tried to forget. It was a warmth that had once been your solace, your sanctuary, and you hoped it could be that once again.

You squeezed Erynwen’s hand gently as the two of you strolled past the courtyard where you usually read together. She glanced up at you curiously, the change in routine catching her by surprise.

“Are we not reading?” she asked, her young voice tinged with uncertainty. You gave her a small, reassuring smile.

“We are,” you replied warmly, “but I thought we’d change things up today since I have more time than usual.”

Her eyes lit up at your words, the promise of extra time with you clearly delighting her. Ever since sending the correspondence to the Dwarves, you had heard nothing in reply. Without their response, the work had stalled, leaving you with more time to spend elsewhere. Though you were not one to busy yourself with knitting or sewing, you always found comfort in your books—and in Erynwen’s company. It seemed only fitting to fill your free hours with something that brought you peace.

“Are we finally going back to the river?” she asked excitedly, her face bright with hope.

You nodded, your smile deepening at her excitement. “Yes, we are.”

Before you could say more, she slipped free from your hand, letting out a delighted squeal as she raced ahead toward the path that led to the riverbank just outside the city. You followed at a leisurely pace, watching her golden hair catch the sunlight as she darted between the trees, her joy as infectious as the spring breeze.

Centuries ago, someone had planted sage blossoms along the riverbank. Over the years, they had flourished, spreading across the grasses and weaving their way into the landscape. The sight always tugged at your heart. It reminded you of home—the banks of the River Sirion outside Laureandor, where fields of sage had stretched endlessly, their pale purple blooms swaying in harmony with the gentle breeze.

The memory stirred something deep within you. The sight of those blossoms here, so far from your homeland, was both a comfort and a sorrowful reminder of what you had lost. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel gratitude toward whoever had planted those valuable seeds. Their thoughtful act had gifted you a piece of home, a tangible connection to the past that softened the ache of your grief, even if only a little.

As you reached the edge of the river, the breeze carried the faint, earthy scent of sage to your senses, and you inhaled deeply, letting the fragrance settle over you like a balm. Erynwen was already at the water’s edge, her small hands reaching out to touch the blossoms with reverent curiosity. You smiled softly to yourself, thankful for this moment—for the river, for the blossoms, and for her. It was a rare reprieve, a fleeting taste of joy amidst the lingering shadows of those nightmares that still haunted your dreams.

You sat down a little ways away from where Erynwen stood, her small hands gently examining the delicate purple blossoms. Carefully, you removed your satchel, its familiar weight shifting as you set it beside you. Inside were the books you had brought for today’s reading, their pages worn with use and love. You placed it on the soft grass, letting the earthy scent of the sage blossoms and the gentle murmur of the river envelop you.

Leaning back slightly, you allowed yourself a moment to take in the scene. Erynwen’s golden hair shimmered in the sunlight as she crouched by the blooms, her youthful curiosity evident in the way she carefully touched each petal. It was a peaceful sight, one that brought a faint, contented smile to your lips as you waited patiently for her to return.

When Erynwen finally returned, her face alight with excitement, you gestured toward the satchel. “Go on, pick one,” you said warmly. She eagerly dove into the bag, pulling out a familiar volume with a triumphant grin. Once she had settled herself beside you, you opened the book to the first page and began to read aloud.

Your voice flowed steadily, carrying the story to her attentive ears. As you read, Erynwen began to hum softly, her small fingers weaving some of the vibrant purple blossoms into twists she created in your hair. Her touch was gentle, and the rhythmic motion brought a quiet comfort. You smiled over your shoulder at her, watching as she worked with a concentration that made her youthful features all the more endearing.

But as your gaze shifted past her, toward the city gates in the distance, the smile faltered. A familiar ache stirred in your chest, the weight of absence settling heavily over you. You had hoped he would take the invitation, that you would sense the faint stirring of your fëa pulling at his. But there was nothing—no flicker of his presence, no hint of the connection that had once been as constant as your breath.

You tried to push the sadness aside, reminding yourself that he had never been at ease in the presence of your “ducklings.” Even in the past, he had observed them from a distance, his reserved nature keeping him apart from the warmth you so willingly shared with others. Yet, a part of you had hoped this time would be different—that he might step beyond the shadows and into the light you had always offered him.

For now, you let the bittersweet thought fade, focusing instead on Erynwen’s quiet hums and the gentle weight of her fingers in your hair. The story continued, the words flowing like the river beside you, rooting you in this moment of fleeting peace.

Sauron’s—no, Mairon’s—eyes lingered on you. Gods, he had to stop thinking of himself in that manner. If change was truly what he wanted, he had to stop referring to himself as that darker part of himself. Yes, there were times he slipped into that role—his plans still in motion demanded it, and he had lived that double life even with you—but when he was solely with you, he had to be Mairon. He had to shove that shadowed side of himself down and bask in your light, just as he had so boldly claimed he wanted.

Yet it pained him to do so. Your light was so pure, so untainted, that no part of his shadow could ever dull your radiance. That fact simultaneously drew him in and filled him with despair. Now, though, his plans with you had shifted. The desire to bend you to his will with power, to use the tools of his creation, had been replaced by a quieter ambition. He wanted to heal you—not with the ring, not with domination, but in a way that honored the love you had once shared. Still, the sight of the ring on your finger, one of the elven rings you and Celebrimbor had forged without his hand, filled him with a twisted joy. It was almost laughable to him that by some strange twist of fate—or perhaps some cruel joke from Eru himself—it had come to you.

He couldn’t decide if the sight of it was a blessing or a taunt. The ring, so cleverly placed upon your finger, gave him a sense of possession and pride, even as it reminded him of his failures. You, the wife who had once loved him without reservation, wore it so innocently, unaware of the complexity it represented.

And so, he would appease your wish for him to bask in your light. He would play the part of Mairon, the husband who adored you, because, at the end of the day, he needed you. He needed you to love him as you once did, untainted by the darkness that had consumed him. For only then could he truly build the world he envisioned—the world he believed could finally be worthy of the two of you. A world where you could once again walk free, unshackled by the curse Morgoth had placed upon you.

That was his ultimate desire. Not the power or the domination he had once sought, but the chance to see you as you had been, radiant and whole. And if it meant burying the shadows within him, at least in your presence, he would do it. Because, no matter the cost, he knew he could not endure a world without you.

He knew you were still suspicious, but he resolved to ease those doubts, no matter how long it took, even if it meant playing the part of the side of him you loved.

Sauron stood at a distance, watching as you sat among the familiar blossoms, the purple sage swaying gently in the afternoon breeze. The sunlight caught in your hair, making it shine like a piece of elegantly spun thread as you spoke with Erynwen over your shoulder. Your laughter, faint but unmistakable, carried to him on the breeze, stirring something deep within his chest.

He never wished to be the cause of your sorrow, yet he knew he had been—and still was in many ways. What you thought you saw in him, the man you had once loved so fully, had long since been lost to the Ages. Morgoth had seen to that.

In countless ways, Sauron knew he no longer carried even a sliver of the being he had once been with you. That version of himself, the one who had walked beside you in the light of Laureandor, felt as distant as a half-forgotten dream. So for now, he allowed himself the quiet indulgence of watching you, his resolve hardening with every glance.

You felt the familiar pull of his fëa against yours, like a gentle current drawing your attention unbidden. Turning, you caught sight of him descending the path toward the riverbank. A warm, enchanting smile graced your lips as your eyes met his. At that moment, Erynwen turned as well, her small hand tightening its grip on your shoulder. Her unease was immediate and instinctual, but you were quick to place your hand reassuringly over hers.

“It’s alright,” you murmured softly, your voice steady and calm. “I invited him.”

Erynwen said nothing, her wide eyes fixed on the ethereal figure walking toward you both. The way her small body tensed beneath your hand gave you pause. Children often had an unfiltered perception of the world, their instincts unclouded by adult complexities. Something about her reaction sparked a faint unease within you. Still, you reminded yourself that change—especially for someone like him—would not come overnight.

A part of you had hoped that Erynwen’s sweet, innocent nature might help him feel more at ease, might guide him in rediscovering the better parts of himself. Another part of you, however, simply longed to grant him entrance into this corner of your life, to share the light and peace you had found here in the glow of Eregion.

When he finally came to a stop a few paces away, his presence calm and measured, you took it upon yourself to bridge the gap. Gesturing to Erynwen, you introduced them, your tone warm yet gentle. “This is Lord Annatar,” you said, your voice carrying an undertone of encouragement as you glanced at Erynwen.

He inclined his head with practiced grace, his expression softening. “It is an honor,” he said smoothly, his tone reverent but understated.

“Hi,” Erynwen replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she clung to your shoulder. Though her shyness was evident, she offered him a faint smile before retreating behind you slightly.

“And this,” you continued, your hand resting lightly on the girl’s back, “is Lady Erynwen, my lord.”

Annatar’s lips curved into a polite smile as he inclined his head once more. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” he said, his voice warm and measured, though the natural charm behind his words seemed to go entirely over the little girl’s head.

Erynwen nodded hesitantly before shifting her attention back to her task. With careful fingers, she resumed weaving blossoms into your hair, her focus now on the comforting familiarity of her work. Though she didn’t say much, her small smile suggested that her unease had lessened, if only slightly.

You let out a quiet breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. There was still a long way to go, but this was a start—however tentative. And as Annatar settled himself near you, his gaze lingering on the girl’s careful handiwork and the ease with which you reassured her, you allowed yourself the smallest flicker of hope that this moment could be the first step toward something new.

“What has Lady Thilwen been reading to you?” he asked, his gaze dropping to the book nestled in your lap. His tone was light, almost conversational, though there was a faint undertone of curiosity that you didn’t miss.

Erynwen didn’t look up from her careful task of weaving blossoms into your hair as she replied, her voice soft but clear. “She’s been reading stories about Valinor, from before we came back.”

Her words carried the innocence of a child who only partially understood the weight of the tales she spoke of. You glanced at Annatar briefly, gauging his reaction, though his expression remained calm, his focus shifting momentarily to the book. His presence, while composed, seemed to ripple with unspoken thoughts, as though the mention of Valinor stirred something within him that he would never admit aloud.

You smiled faintly, brushing a hand lightly over Erynwen’s as she worked. “I love the story of the Trees,” she added, her voice carrying a quiet warmth. “Though I think she rather enjoys embellishing the stories with her own flair.”

Erynwen giggled softly, but said nothing more, her attention fixed on the delicate blossoms in her hands. Annatar inclined his head slightly, his gaze thoughtful as his eyes lingered on the book for a moment longer before returning to you. “I never saw those trees, Erynwen, so how could I embellish them?” you teased, a playful lilt to your voice. Erynwen giggled once more, her laughter light and carefree.

“Lady Galadriel said they were the most beautiful creations in the whole of Arda,” she said earnestly, stepping back to examine her handiwork in your hair. “To sit among them was to feel true happiness.”

At her words, you felt him twitch beside you, his composure faltering ever so slightly. The mention of Galadriel and the Trees stirred something within him—old wounds, old memories. You knew how his past deeds had left undeniable marks on the lives of all the elves who called this place home. You glanced over at him with a soft smile, your gaze steady and understanding. Without hesitation, you reached over and placed your hand atop his, a silent reassurance that you were here, and that together you could bear the weight of those memories.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the tension in his frame eased. He returned your gesture with a faint, grateful smile before turning his attention back to Erynwen. “Has Lady Thilwen ever told you the story of the Two Lamps?” he asked, his tone light and curious.

Erynwen’s face scrunched in confusion, her brows knitting together as she looked back at you for clarification. “That’s not a story,” she replied, her voice almost teasing, as though testing the validity of his claim.

Annatar chuckled softly, the sound rich and unhurried. “Oh, it is,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Though I’m not surprised you haven’t heard it. It was before she awoke, before even the first moonrise over Arda. It is a tale that only the Ainur would be able to tell.”

Erynwen’s curiosity was piqued, her confusion replaced with intrigue as she tilted her head and glanced between the two of you. You could see the faint glimmer of fascination in her eyes, the promise of an untold story captivating her young mind. You smiled softly, saying nothing, and let Annatar take the lead, his voice carrying a weight of authority and experience that could only come from one who had witnessed the ancient days he spoke of.

After he finished his story, Erynwen was utterly captivated, her wide eyes sparkling with wonder as she begged to hear more. But Annatar, ever measured, refrained. “I’ll tell you another one another day,” he said with a faint, teasing smile. “I can’t reveal all my secrets at once.”

Though disappointed, Erynwen nodded and moved back to the river’s edge, her curiosity propelling her to explore the water’s edge once more. Her laughter and soft splashing soon filled the air, a soothing backdrop to the moment.

“I think she likes you,” you teased, a playful smile curving your lips as you leaned back on your hands, stretching your legs to relieve the dull ache that had settled in from sitting too long.

“I think she likes my stories more,” Annatar replied smoothly, his tone laced with quiet amusement. He reached over and plucked one of the sage blossoms from your hair, his movements deliberate yet gentle. Heat rushed to your face at the gesture, your heart fluttering in a way that left you momentarily breathless.

He chuckled softly at your reaction, his hand brushing against your chin with a feather-light touch before cupping it. “I think you do too,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, his breath fanning across your face as he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours.

Your body betrayed you, melting into his touch as your lips curved into a faint, almost wistful smile. “I’ve always loved the wild tales you would tell,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “The good and the bad.”

His icy blue eyes softened as they locked onto yours, holding your gaze captive. His thumb traced a gentle path along your jawline, a touch so familiar yet so distant that it almost felt like an illusion. It reminded you of another time, another life, when such moments were effortless and unbroken by shadow.

The spell between you was interrupted by the sound of Erynwen’s laughter and the splashing of water, grounding you in the present. But even with the distraction, the warmth of his hand against your skin lingered, a reminder of the fragile connection you had allowed to bloom once more.

“Erynwen, darling, do not get too wet. Your aunt will be terribly mad at me if you ruin another gown,” you called out to her with a warm laugh. She paused, glancing back at you with a mischievous grin before retreating from the deeper water to the river's edge, her small hands now busy plucking stones from the shallows.

The gentle brush of his fingers against your temple drew your attention back to him. His touch lingered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the intimacy of the gesture sending a quiet shiver down your spine.

“I missed this,” he breathed, his voice low, almost reverent.

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. You met his gaze, the icy blue of his eyes softer now, reflecting something unguarded and raw. It was a vulnerability you had rarely seen, a flicker of the man he had once been—a glimpse of the Mairon you had loved before the shadow had taken him.

Your heart ached at the honesty in his expression, the weight of centuries of regret and longing woven into those simple words. For a moment, you didn’t speak, letting the soft murmur of the river and the distant laughter of Erynwen fill the space where your reply should have been.

His hand moved to cup your face once more, and before long, his lips were against yours, soft and insistent. The sensation was intoxicating, pulling you into a dreamlike haze that made the world around you feel distant and unreal. Your fingers instinctively moved to his face, tracing familiar lines as the kiss deepened, his touch carrying a tenderness you hadn’t felt in centuries.

As his hands gently moved to lower you onto the bed of blossoms, you felt the petals cushion your back, their soft fragrance mingling with the warmth of his presence. Your heart raced as you surrendered to the moment, losing yourself in the familiarity of his touch and the overwhelming rush of emotions his kiss stirred within you.

But even as you melted into his embrace, a small voice in the back of your mind reminded you of Erynwen’s presence nearby. Reluctantly, with great effort, you placed a hand on Annatar’s chest, breaking the kiss. Your breaths came in soft, uneven pants as you gazed up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of longing and restraint.

"We can’t," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of the moment. "Not here, not now."

Annatar’s expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. But it was brief, replaced quickly by understanding. He nodded slowly, his hand still lingering on your cheek as if reluctant to let go.

The two of you sat up together, the moment hanging between you like a fragile thread, delicate and easily broken. His hand eventually fell away, but his gaze remained fixed on you, intense and searching, as though he were silently asking for answers neither of you could yet provide.

“Thilwen!” Erynwen’s excited call shattered the tension like sunlight breaking through a storm cloud. “Look what I found!”

You turned to see the little girl standing by the water’s edge, holding up a smooth, iridescent stone, her small face beaming with pride. The sight brought a warm, steadying smile to your lips.

“It’s beautiful, darling,” you called back, your voice softer now, though your heart still fluttered from the intensity of the moment. “Why don’t you bring it over and show us?”

Erynwen nodded eagerly, skipping toward you with the stone clutched tightly in her hand. You shifted your focus back to her, grateful for her innocent joy, even as the echoes of what had just passed between you and Annatar lingered in the air, unresolved but undeniable.

For the rest of the day, you sat among the blossoms, basking in the gentle companionship of Erynwen and your husband. The warmth of the sun, the soft rustling of the breeze, and the quiet murmur of the river created a rare moment of peace—a reprieve you hadn’t realized you needed. Annatar, though often reserved, seemed content to let the lightness of the moment linger, his gaze occasionally drifting toward you and Erynwen with a softness you had not seen in ages.

It wasn’t until the familiar call of Erynwen’s aunt rang out from the head of the path that you realized how much time had passed. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the blossoms.

“Can we do this again tomorrow?” Erynwen asked, her face glowing with hope as she stood, brushing bits of grass from the skirt of her gown.

“Yes, of course,” you replied warmly, smiling up at her. She leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek in her usual affectionate goodbye.

“Bye, my lady,” she said, before turning to Annatar with a small, shy smile. “Bye, my lord.”

Annatar inclined his head slightly, a faint smile gracing his lips. “Until next time, Lady Erynwen,” he replied, his voice gentle.

At that, Erynwen turned and dashed up the path toward the city, her laughter echoing faintly as she ran to meet her aunt. You watched her go, the sight of her youthful energy a balm against the lingering shadows in your heart.

As Erynwen’s laughter faded into the distance, a comfortable silence settled between you and Annatar. The riverbank felt different now, as though the day’s events had imbued it with a new sense of possibility. You turned to face him, your eyes searching his face, hoping to catch even a fleeting glimpse of what might be going through his mind.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “For today. For being here.”

Annatar’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, the icy walls he so often kept raised seemed to thaw. His eyes softened, and you caught a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name—perhaps gratitude, perhaps longing. “I should be the one thanking you,” he replied, his voice low and steady, carrying a weight that matched your own. “For allowing me this... reprieve.”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken meaning behind his words. This day had been more than a fleeting moment of peace; it had been a glimpse of something you both yearned for. A reminder of the life you had once dreamed of sharing together, now tinged with the hope that perhaps, it was not entirely beyond reach.

The last rays of sunlight danced across the river, casting the pal purple blossoms in a golden glow, and you found yourself reluctant to leave this moment behind. The day had been a rare gift, a fragile thread of connection in a world still shrouded in uncertainty.

“We should head back,” you murmured, though the reluctance in your tone betrayed you. “Before the light fades completely.”

Annatar nodded in agreement, though he, too, seemed unwilling to break the delicate peace that hung between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of the moment holding you both in place. Slowly, your hand found his, your fingers intertwining with an ease and familiarity that made your heart ache. His touch was warm, grounding, and yet it sent a thrill through you as though it were the first time.

And then, just as you began to rise, his lips captured yours with a sudden, fierce intensity. A soft whimper escaped you as his kiss deepened, his hands cradling your face with an urgency that mirrored your own. There was no hesitation, no shadow of doubt, only the pure, raw need to hold onto this fleeting moment of connection.

Nothing interrupted you now—no curious little eyes, no calls in the distance. It was just the two of you, the river murmuring softly behind you, and the blossoms cushioning your shared embrace. The world melted away, until the only background noise was the pulsing in your ears

When he laid you gently among the blossoms once more, his body hovered over yours, you could no longer fight the yearning that had burned within you for so long. Centuries of pent-up longing surged between you, unspoken yet undeniable, pulling you both into a moment that felt as inevitable as it was overwhelming.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as the kiss deepened, and passion ignited like wildfire. The scent of the blossoms surrounding you mingled with his familiar deep metallic scent, driving your need to be enveloped in his very being once more. His hands roamed your body with reverent touches, relishing in every curve and plane.

You arched into him, savoring the weight of his body, pressing you into the soft bed of the grasses. A soft moan escaped your lips as his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

Your fingers trembled as they traced the contours of his face, relearning every plane and angle. His skin felt warm beneath your touch, alive with an energy that seemed to pulse in harmony with your racing heartbeat. As your hands slid down to his clothed chest, you could feel the steady thrum of his heart, a familiar song that called to your fëa.

Annatar's lips found yours again, hungry and insistent. The kiss deepened, igniting a fire that spread through your veins like liquid gold. His tongue danced with yours in a passionate waltz, each caress stoking the flames of desire that threatened to consume you both. His taste was intoxicating, a heady mixture of tartness and charcoal you had craved for centuries.

Your body arched into his, seeking more contact, more friction. His hands continued their exploration of your body with gentle squeezes against flesh and soft caresses, remembering where each gesture could elicit sweet sounds from you.

His fingers moved back to trace the curve of your neck after his gentle exploration, trailing his fingers down to the hollow of your throat where your pulse fluttered like a caged bird. You gasped as his lips followed the path his fingers had taken, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The heat of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, igniting nerves that you had forgotten even existed.

As his mouth moved lower, his hands worked at the fastenings of your gown with practiced ease. The whisper of fabric falling away was lost beneath the sound of your racing heart. Cool air kissed your exposed skin, causing more goosebumps to rise in its wake. Annatar's eyes raked over your form, dark with desire and something deeper—a reverence that made your breath catch in your throat.

His hands skimmed along your sides, leaving trails of tingling warmth. You shivered as his fingers traced intricate patterns across your skin, like an artist memorizing his muse.

Annatar lowered his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. His tongue darted out to taste the hollow of your throat, eliciting a soft gasp. You arched into him, fingers tangling in his silken hair as he moved lower still.

"Breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. "More breathtaking than Varda herself.”

His words sent a thrill through you, igniting a fire deep within. Your hands moved to his robes, fingers fumbling with the fabric in your eagerness. Annatar chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he helped you remove the garments.

The sight of his bare chest, sculpted and perfect, took your breath away. You ran your hands over the smooth planes of muscle, marveling at how he shuddered beneath your touch. Your exploration was cut short as he captured your lips once more, the kiss deep and consuming.

His lips trailed lower, mapping a path of fire across your skin once more. When they closed around your breast, a soft moan escaped you. His tongue swirled and teased, igniting sparks of pleasure that radiated through your body. Your back arched, pressing yourself closer as his hand kneaded your other breast.

Annatar's touch was hungry, almost starved, as if he couldn't get enough of the body that had once laid with him for centuries. His free hand skimmed down your side, tracing the curve of your hip before dipping between your thighs. You gasped as his fingers found your most sensitive bud, circling and stroking with practiced skill.

“So eager…so wanting.” He breathed against the pebbled skin as his teeth took your nipple between them, pulling gently.

You looked down at him at that moment, and he took your breath away. He was as equally as breathtaking underneath the warm hues of the setting sun as he claimed you to be. The way those warm, coppery hues showed in his golden hair and the burning passion in his sapphire eyes brought you back to every time he had taken you to a similar setting. Taking you into his arms and letting you take everything he had to offer.

His love. His devotion. And his light.

Your body trembled beneath the weight of your thoughts, every nerve alight with sensation as his fingers broke past your entrance. Those fingers moved with a skilled accuracy, drawing forth pleasure you had long begged to feel once more. He watched your face intently, drinking in every gasp and moan as they left your swollen lips.

The scent of crushed flowers rose around you, mingling with the musk of arousal. Petals clung to your sweat—dampened skin, creating a living canvas of pale purple against your flushed skin. In his eyes, you could feel through the intertwining threads of your fëa that he would love nothing more than to capture this moment and burn it behind his eyelids, never to part from it. The way you were sprawled out underneath him, covered in the very creations of Yavanna you worshiped faithfully. Their softness caressing you in ways he knew he never could.

You cried out as his thumb met your sensitive bud, circling it in a torturously slow movement as your pleasure coiled tighter in your core. His fingers curled inside you, stroking that spot that made you see stars. Your hips began to rock against his hand, chasing the building tension.

“So needy,” Annatar murmured, his voice a low, melodic purr that sent shivers down your spine. “Always wishing for more.” You nod in a silent reply as you struggle to find your words.

“I…I…” you panted against his ministrations.

“Your what, love? Did I already fuck all the pretty little thoughts from your head?” He tsked on the skin of your neck, fingers moving dangerously slow inside you now. “I’ve barely even started.” You whimpered against his words, while trying to give him the hint to quicken the pace again with the gentle rock of your hips. He took his free hand and pushed your hips down, anchoring them into the grasses.

“Tell me what it is that you wish to say, then…” he trailed off, lips hovering over yours again. “I’ll give you everything, my love; give you the whole world.” You looked up into his eyes through the haze of your lust, there was such a tenderness to him and the vulgar words. Words he had spoken so many times in situations like this. Words that would make your toes curl and release to find you at their implications.

He had promised you an altar once, one as divine as Varda’s and as beautiful as one of Yavanna’s creations, for all to worship you upon. But you did not want all of Arda to worship you as the goddess he saw you as; you only wished for one singular being to worship, and in turn, for his faithful service, you would worship in an equal manner with the devotion of a loyal servant.

“I want it all,” You whispered. “I want you, for all eternity, in every shape and form. My worship will never cease to outdo yours.”

Annatar's lips curled into a dark smile before they moved across your collarbone, pausing to nip and suck at the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. The words of your confession drove him on, continuing to stoke his desire as much as he had been doing with you.

You moaned, fingers tangled in his silken hair once more as he lavished attention on your other breast, this time, his tongue swirling around the peaked nipple. The dual sensations of his mouth on your chest and his fingers between your thighs sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your body undulated beneath him, seeking more contact, more friction.

The hand holding your hip down moved to grip your thigh. He hitched your leg over his hip, opening you further to his touch. The new angle allowed his fingers to delve deeper, curling and stroking against that spot inside you that made you see stars.

Your breath came in ragged gasps punctuated by soft cries of pleasure. The delicate thread of tension in your core wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. His lips found yours once more, swallowing your moans as he kissed you with a passion that stole your breath away.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and husky.

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his fingers, pushed you over the edge. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, pleasure radiating from your core to the tips of your fingers and toes. Your body arched as you cried out his name in release. Annatar watched you intently, his eyes dark with desire as he guided you through the waves of your climax.

As the aftershocks subsided, he withdrew his hand, bringing his fingers to your lips. You took them eagerly and wiped them clean with your tongue, relishing how you tasted against his fingers and how you made his length twitch against your thigh in anticipation.

“Now who’s needy,” you giggled. His eyes darkened with renewed desire at your playful jab. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless. The taste of yourself mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend that made your head spin.

His hands returned to your body with hungry touches, drinking up every curve and swell once more. His fingers traced the arch of your spine, the flesh of your hips, and down the soft plane of your stomach. Each caress left trails of tingling warmth in its wake, reigniting the embers of your passion.

You reached for him, eager to explore in turn. Your hands mapped the broad expanse of his chest, marveling at the play of muscles beneath his skin until your fingers trailed even lower, eventually tracing the defined lines of his abdomen. You licked your bottom lip as he broke away; the anticipation of you taking in the very thing that you had so longed to feel drove the renewed ache in your core.

Your eyes finally looked down and saw how eager and wanting he was. He was larger in this form, but not terribly so. A generous amount of precum glistened against the tip, showing just how painfully ready he was to reconnect with you as you were with him.

Your fingers wrapped around his length, marveling at the silken skin stretched taut over the eager flesh. Annatar hissed in pleasure as you stroked him, his hips bucking involuntarily into your touch. You watched his face, mesmerized by the play of emotions across his features—desire, vulnerability, and a deep, aching need that mirrored your own.

With gentle pressure, you guided him to your entrance. The blunt head of his cock pressed against your folds, hot and insistent. Annatar's eyes locked with yours, silently seeking permission. You nodded, your breath catching in anticipation.

He entered you slowly, inch by exquisite inch. The stretch was delicious, your body welcoming him like the long-lost lover he was. When he was fully sheathed within you, you both paused, savoring the moment of perfect union.

"You feel so divine," he moaned, his voice thick with emotion. "Like coming home after an eternity away."

You cupped his face, drawing him down for a tender kiss. "I've missed you," you whispered against his lips as you felt the tears welling in your eyes. "So much,”

At that he began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm that stoked the flames of your passion. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, building upon the lingering sensitivity from your earlier release. You moved with him, your bodies finding that perfect synchronicity that had always existed between you.

Gods, you had missed this. You missed actually feeling him buried deep inside you, not some shadowy illusion to stoke the flames of your longing. His warmth wrapped around you as the connection between you ebbed and flowed, transcending the physical and resonating on a deeper, spiritual level. Your fëar intertwined, pulsing in harmony with every roll, caress, and vulgar word you both would utter.

To finally have that missing piece of you returned felt magical, like finally gazing on the blessed shores of Valinor, even if you never wished to do so. This—This felt like what Galadriel had explained to Erynwen, what the light of the Great Trees felt like. Happiness. Serenity. And peace.

Mairon was all of those things to you. And now you could not help but let your walls crumble so Annatar—Sauron—whoever he wanted to be at any given moment, could also fit into those things for you.

Because to love a being like him was to love each and every face he bore.

As your thoughts returned to the present, you wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. The new angle caused him to hit that perfect spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure rolling through your body. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his flawless skin as you clung to him.

The soft sound of skin against skin mingled with your breathless moans and Annatar's low groans of pleasure. The air around you seemed to shimmer with the intensity of your passion as if the very fabric of reality was bending to the force of your union.

It was as if the Valar themselves were crying out in happiness at your reunion, for you had always tempered his shadow and brought out the light in him, helping him walk back to that path toward redemption.

His lips found yours once more, the kiss deep and consuming. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, like two instruments playing a familiar melody. Each thrust, each caress, each kiss built upon the last, creating a symphony of passion that resonated through your very souls.

Annatar's movements grew more urgent, his thrusts deeper and more powerful. You could feel the tension building within him, mirroring the coiling heat in your core. Your fingers raked down his back, leaving faint red trails across the perfect skin.

“So beautiful…so divine…when you take all of me.” He panted against your neck after he broke away. “Taking all that your devoted husband has to offer.”

Your body arched into his, meeting his more powerful thrusts. His free hand snaked between your body to meet your swollen pearl, his thumb moving in circular motions had him drawing forth waves of pleasure that left you trembling and gasping.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice thick with desire. "Give me everything.”

Your words seemed to ignite something primal within him. Annatar's eyes blazed with an otherworldly light as he drove into you. You clung to him, the coil of release building in you. All you wanted was to prolong this moment, to stay joined with him in this perfect union for eternity. But your body had other plans, trembling on the precipice of ecstasy.

Annatar sensed your impending climax, his movements becoming more focused and deliberate. He angled his hips just so, hitting that spot inside you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head with each powerful thrust. His fingers worked tirelessly at your swollen bud, and in one long moment, for the first time in an Age, you released over your husband’s flesh. The feeling sent your toes curling in the grass as you cried out his name—his real name.

"Mairon," you cried out, your voice breaking with the intensity of your release. Annatar's eyes blazed with an otherworldly light as he drove into you chasing his own release now.

Your climax washed over you in waves of searing pleasure, each crest higher than the last. Your inner walls clenched around him rhythmically, drawing him deeper. The sensation of your release triggered his own, and with a guttural groan, Annatar buried himself to the hilt inside you. You felt the hot rush of his seed filling you, marking you as his once more.

For several moments, you both remained still, basking in the afterglow of your passionate union. Annatar's weight pressed you into the soft bed of flowers, his breath warm against your neck. The air around you still shimmered with the residual energy of your fëar finally intertwining once more after centuries apart.

Slowly, Annatar raised his head to meet your gaze. His soft eyes took your breath away. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours as he slowly withdrew from your body. The loss of connection left you feeling bereft, but his gentle touch soothed the ache.

His fingers dipped down between your soaked thighs, where he gathered up the spend that had leaked down before sliding his fingers back into your overstimulated cunt, filling it with even more of his spend. You moaned against the action, lifting your hips so he could go deeper.

His lips met yours briefly, fingers still lightly moving inside of you. “I doubt you wish to waste such a precious thing,” Lips met yours again briefly. “So I shall make sure you take every drop.”

"So thoughtful," you giggled as you gazed at your husband. The way his eyes sparkled with mischief and lingering desire sent a thrill through you. Annatar kissed the tip of your nose affectionately.

“Only the best for you, divine,” He whispered as his fingers continued their gentle ministrations between your thighs, spreading his essence within you, hoping that this time would be different. The oversensitivity of your flesh made you shiver, caught between pleasure and sweet torment at his touch. But you welcomed with a lazy smile.

"Mairon," you breathed, your voice trembling as you reached up to cup his face with tender hands. The tears that had been welling in your eyes since the start of your encounter finally flowed over. Your voice broke, a soft plea escaping your lips. “Don’t let this be it, please. After this, I could never bear to lose you again.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against yours, the closeness grounding both of you in the fragile moment as he withdrew his fingers.

"My sweet, beautiful wife," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as his thumb brushed against your cheek. His lips followed, pressing soft, reverent kisses to the tears spilling freely down your face. “I promise you,” he murmured, his voice steady and resolute, “from this moment, I will never leave your side again.”

The words hung between you, a vow spoken with the weight of centuries behind them, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to believe them.

#sauron x reader #sauron #annatar x reader #annatar #trop fic #rings of power fic #trop fanfiction

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bubbleddisasters · 9 months ago

Text

(Can’t believe I’m writing my first ever x reader (kind of) this but the Self Aware Au is so interesting to me)

Code Escaping: Heartstabyl Edition.

(All Students (can be viewed as platonic or romantic, Orthos is strictly platonic though)

Gender Neutral Reader!

——-

After several attempts, and failures, they finally succeeded.

They got through

To your world.

What next? Try and Find you, Rush to your side first thing and try to casually explain that a video game character broke out of their code to see them?

Maybe set things up first? Comfy living, then an easy way to find you? Or go off clues from things you used to say or areas he saw behind you? Or did he get lucky and he’s two feet away?

Man, He should have checked the code for your location…..No time to lose!

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

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒍

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

𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 🌹

——

Truth be told, he got quite lucky.

A library is where he arrived, one he recognized as your hiding spot to study, or simply relax.

So, he found every tome he thought relevant on what he needed to know of the basics of your world, aswell as the one he last witnessed you study, and sat himself in the seat next to where you usually did, awaiting your arrival.

Was it timely? Perhaps, Perhaps not.

You’d been slightly (Very) annoyed that for some reason, none of your Riddle cards would show his appearance. The Chibi was no where to be seen, and your homescreen vacant of him.

So as you made your way to your spot, you nearly shrieked because either thats a damn good cosplay or Riddle Rosehearts was very casually reading the history textbook your teacher assigned while sitting four feet away from your usual spot.

Steel blue eyes scoped to check the noise, and sat up instantly.

“Just as I expected, you’d arrive here sooner or later. You certainly took your time, however.”

Before you could process the fact he sounded suspiciously like Ciel Phantomhive, he quite literally summoned a tea set. Out of thin air.

And was just staring. Most definitely waiting for you to sit down casually like he didn’t summon an entire china set with piping hot tea in a magicless world.

This was the real deal. Mommy Issues Supreme was now officially your problem. Good Luck.

————————

𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒚♣

——

He remembered the name of the bakery down the street you visited.

As a joke, when you’d finished book one, you’d ordered a Strawberry Tart. He couldn’t exactly remember if you actually ate it, or gave it away, but it was funny, regardless.

Using Paint the Roses, he altered a napkin into a very nice resume, and he got a job there.

When Trey up and vanished from your homescreen, you’d gone to get a pastry to cheer yourself up. Not the best coping skill, but hey, it works.

It was pretty late, and it seemed they were closing up, so you planned to just be in and out, not wanting to make their job any harder.

The little bell rung as you entered, and the little alarms in your head went off when you arrived at the counter, and a-wait, why would someone cosplay at their job? Trey and working at a Bakery fit together, but…wait a second. Thats not a wig, and thats not contacts either.

If Ingame Trey was missing, and this guy looked exactly like him…..Nope, Not Possible.

Trying to play it casual , you ordered the usual and once you had it, sat down as you normally would.

But when you took a bite of your treat, it tasted like….Strawberry. Then Chestnut. What the hell.

You unintentionally had an odd staring contest with the current cashier, who then held out a scarily familiar pen, chuckling a bit as he placed it on the counter.

“Surprise.”

After making his way around the counter, he sat down on the other side of the table, doing his best to not freak you out too much.

“Yea, I know this might be a bit confusing, and It’s probably not easy to process all this, so take your time, and I’ll answer any questions you have.”

Great, because you had several.

——————-

𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓♦

——

Social Media Stalking but not Stalking was his forte.

The first thing he did was make pretty much every account he could on medias he knew you had. Like Tumblr.

He decided it would be way too freaky to just pop up out of nowhere, so as he was thinking and exploring, he took a few selfies and photoshoots here are there.

And WOW. They blew up. At first he thought it was the general math of Attractive Guy + Good Photos of him = Alot of Views. He had sorta kinda forgot other people knew about Twist until he noticed the flood of “Cater IRL” and “THE Cater Cosplay” comments. Which gave him an idea.

After the annoyance of all your Caters being lost in the code sauce, you messed around online until you accidentally pulled up a page with the greatest Cater Cosplay you had ever witnessed.

You had to do a double take when the follow button said “Follow Back”. You complied with the buttons wishes and followed them back.

After a while, you somehow ended up dming back and forth with him, and his strangely Cater coded texts. You also discovered that it apparently wasn’t a cosplay, and just his natural appearance was scarily similar to Caters..and his name was Cater, which was accidentally revealed by a Starbucks barista calling out after finishing making his drink while you were calling.

Part of you suspected that this could be the real Cater, with all the math adding up, and the other half of you called you a fucking idiot for that.

Little did you know the first one was exactly what Cater was hoping for.

With that, he managed to do some kinda social media stalking ( but not like, Rook Levels, DW) and found your general area based on area matching (TY Google Maps!) and nearly jumped for joy when he realized it was where he was too.

He subtly managed to sneak that in conversation, and set up a meetup between you two, a brunch and phone shopping. Weird Pick on the last one, but you decided not to judge.

The first thing he said when you arrived confused you, alot.

With a bright smile, he waved you over.

“Hey! Long Time no see!”

Ignoring the aggressive red flag in that statement with a simple “Maybe he meant since we called” as if you didn’t call him last night to plan this out, either way, you scooted in.

You two got so distracted chatting, at one point making up a game of fake gossiping the craziest things to see if anyone reacted, and for your own entertainment.

Because of that, your drink went warm, and as soon as you mentioned it, you got your answer to the “Where did my Caters go.” question.

Why? Because, as if this had happened before, he simply refroze it. Magically.

As you stared in pure awe and confusion, he grimaced upon the realization his cover was pretty much blown.

“Whoops…Lets just pretend that didn’t happen, and I’ll explain later, ‘Kay?”

You just had to pray nobody witnessed that, as Area 51 did definitely did not sound like Cay-Cays ideal Vacay.

——

𝑨𝒄𝒆♥

—

He thought it would be fucking HILARIOUS to prank you, as, unfortunately for you, he ended up in your house, only to find out you were asleep, which gave him the opportunity to PUA (Prank Upon Arrival)

For the next several hours of your waking life, Ace of Hearts playing cards of varying sizes would be infesting your house, or when you’d put something down and look away, there was either a card on it or it had been replaced by a card.

You were also robbed of leftovers you’d been saving, and a few snacks by this card demon.

After you left the house vacant (you fool), the Knave struck again, this time sneaking out and guessing your next move, heading off to a cafe because you needed caffeine after the card madness, until you had already ordered, and you had turned on Twist while waiting for your drink.

Quietly, he slid into the chair infront of you as you grumbled.

“He’s not on the homescreen either—Where the hell are all my Ace cards?”

Hehe, Infront of you. This is the best setup ever.

Leaning back on the chair, he couldn’t contain a grin as he faked obliviousness.

“I dunno. Maybe try looking around a lil’ more?”

Not paying much attention to who was talking to you in your moment of despair , you sighed, swiping back to the home screen.

“They’re not those kinds of cards.”

“Aren’t like, five of them card themed?”

“Four right now, since Ace has seemingly gone and fucked off to another dimension:”

“Yeaaa, about that. It was not as easy to do as you’re making it sound. Just saying.”

You looked up for a split second, then did a double take and nearly skyrocketed out of your chair, making indecipherable confusion noises while he laughed his ass off, totally soaking in the success of his perfect surprise you had unintentionally enabled.

While you stood frozen in shock, he simply grabbed your things, put them in your hand, S̶t̶o̶l̶e̶ grabbed your coffee, and whisked you out the door.

I pray for you, good luck dealing with him.

——

𝑫𝒆𝒖𝒄𝒆♠

——

Woke up in either your garage or kitchen, and was confused. Rightfully so.

Since he couldn’t really find you around, but at least recognized this as your house, he just waddled around more or less, fixing random things here and cleaning up there while trying to find clues to where you might be, or if he should just wait here.

He finally found a grocery list, which you had forgotten, and spent the next 10 minutes trying to find the nearest grocery store while unintentionally locking himself out of the house in the process, so made the genius decision to hope you were still at the grocery store and dashed over.

You’re doing great, dude.

Anywho, he got lucky, because in the middle of carrying off your shopping bags, your notification that your AP was full went off, and as you went to use it, you noticed a severe lack of Deuce on your homescreen.

This lead to sitting on a bench and getting distracted trying to figure out why the hell this glitch had only affected your Deuce cards, so you weren’t paying much attention when you heard a voice somewhat far off but close.

“Oh hey! There you are!”

Assuming it was for someone else, you continued trying to fix the “glitch”, then paused when you heard the voice from before right infront of you.

“Do you need help with carrying those bags?”

The words “I’m good, thanks.” died on your tongue when you looked up, only to be face to face with the guy you’d been suffering trying to figure out where he went for 20 minutes. Ingame. In a VIDEO GAME.

Internally, you practically short-circuited, after you panicked, he started panicking, and you both ended up in a weird confusion panic that had the energy of the spidermans pointing at eachother meme.

Great job! You have now acquired a German Shepard Golden Retriever mix in human form.

————

Bonus :

——

𝑪𝒉𝒆'𝒏𝒚𝒂⤵➟

——

Unlike most of them, he had absolutely zero trouble hopping into your world.

However, instead of revealing himself right away, he decided to be the ghost of good deeds and mischief. And a random black cat you’d suspiciously find on your window sill demanding pets or cuddles.

Luckily transforming, flying, invisibility, and the rest of his magic ability seemed to work just fine.

Sometimes, you’d randomly find things placed in unusual places, spoons on the ceiling, for example, the paintings or pictures sometimes randomly taking on very funny faces, teacups and plates floating around at 2am, leaving you to assume it was a sleepy hallucination.

Other times you’d be aggravatingly trying to fix something, look away for one moment, and not only was it fixed, it looked almost brand new. Or you’d open the fridge or pantry, and notice the lack of food, then open it again, and i’d be filled to the brim.

You never noticed anything too strange on Twist itself however until you got bored one day, and decided to replay Heartstabyls chapters, only to realize Che’nya was…completely missing.

Out of sheer curiosity, you checked his Pomfieore Chapter appearance. Nothing. Gone.

Trying to see if it was just the WIFI connection, you moved rooms, only to see a blink of purple in the corner of your eye.

Lounging in the air by the window, tail swaying lazily, he peeked over, then grinned his signature grin.

“Nya-ice to meet you~”

———

Yay! Thats all!!

Holy shit I can’t believe I wrote this, feel free to take me out (Date or Assassination I really don’t care)

Alright! I might do more but they might not be in dorm order, see ya!

346 notes · View notes

thursdaygxrls · 2 years ago

Text

thin ice — one

part one | part two | part three

summary — she didn’t handle the sports section of the campus newspaper, but apparently, she did this week. interviewing hockey players was easy, though—unless one of those players happened to be peter parker.

pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader

disclaimers — i don’t own peter parker. and pls don't come for me with the accuracy of this situation i'm begging

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (there’s a reason, i promise), slight one sided enemies to lovers, sewer slide jokes (very briefly), possible maybe slightly ooc, and very unedited

“You’re joking. You’re pulling the biggest prank I’ve ever seen, you are the impractical joker,” she huffs out, her eyes wide as furiously clicks her mouse, “I’m gonna die. I’m writing the note tonight—farewell, my lovely!”

“Woah, okay,” MJ, her roommate, had only just entered the room when she was bombarded with a sudden rant. She didn’t even have time to take down her ponytail of thin, red braids before her eardrums were assaulted.

“I mean it.” Spinning her chair, she meets MJ’s eyes.

“I literally just got here,” MJ plops down on the bed in front of the desk, “Care to tell me why you’re writing that note?”

“I’m a dumb, dumb girl, that’s why,” she groans in response.

“We already knew that.” MJ’s words only cause the girl in front of her to shoot daggers with her gaze; “Sorry, sorry. Why are you a dumb, dumb girl?”

“God, okay, so,” she lets out a loud sigh, “Eli is gonna be gone for the rest of the month—Europe or something, good for him. Anyways, they needed someone to cover his assignments for him until he gets back, and I volunteered, but, like, only to be nice, y’know? I did it as an obligation. But…”

“But?” MJ pressed.

“I just got an email, and it’s me,” she grumbled, “They’re putting me on Eli’s assignments.”

“Hm, I see,” MJ’s lips curl into a frown as she gently rubs the girl’s arm, “Too much work?”

“Oh, no, my stuff’s easy,” she waved her off, “Just reading the poetry submissions. I mean, it can be exhausting, but it’s not too bad.”

“Then what is it?” MJ cocks her head.

“Eli…Eli does sports,” she shuddered. MJ couldn’t contain the loud laugh that slipped out, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle it.

“You’re worried about sports?” She giggles, her eyes twinkling.

“It’s not funny!” She smacks MJ lightly, “Sports aren’t unbearable or anything, but, like, why me? I don’t know enough! I’ll screw it up, I’ll lose my spot, they’ll stick me back in—”

“Relax,” MJ grabs her shoulders, bringing her closer, “First off, no, you won’t lose your spot, we both know they’d be losing their minds without you. Second, they wouldn’t just throw it on you if they thought you’d give them bad work, right?” She eyes MJ almost suspiciously. There’s a momentary stare-down before she relents.

“I hate that you’re right,” she sighs, spinning her chair around. MJ stops the spin by putting her hands down on the arms of the chair.

“Thought you’d be used to it by now,” she giggles, “So, what do you have to do?”

“I don’t know.” Is the mumbled reply.

“You didn’t even look?” MJ laughs again, “You were losing your mind, and you didn’t even know what you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry that I’m sensitive,” she huffs. Her gaze moves back to the laptop before her. The email is open on the screen, so she begins scrolling through it, MJ reading the words over her shoulder. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she gets to the end.

“Fuck this,” she almost slams her laptop shut, but is stopped short by MJ.

“Slow down!” The redhead slaps her hand out of the way to read the rest of the email.

The ESU hockey team had made it to the NCAA Division I Men's Ice Hockey tournament for the first time in six years—and they were doing damn good. Eli had been tasked with interviewing the team captain as well as a few other star players, but, of course, it was no longer Eli's job.

"Oh, come on,” MJ rolled her eyes, “They gave you a Google Doc with questions, all you have to do is ask them and write down their response."

“That's the problem, I have to ask,” she shivered.

"You've done interviews before!" MJ was ready to smack her.

"With professors! And cool artsy people! Not hockey guys," she cringed, “I bet half of them are in a frat. They're probably gonna be assholes and tell me I have cooties."

“Are you twelve?” MJ groaned, “You sort of lucked out with this—half the work is already done for you! You don’t need to write up any questions!” A sigh left her lips as she took on a more comforting tone: “If it makes you feel any better, Harry is on the team.”

Ah, Harry. MJ had been seeing him for a little over a month by now. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. A little full of himself, but nice enough to talk to. Her eyes roved over the list of players she was set to interview. Sure enough, Harry Osborn was there. So was Miles Morales, who was described as an extremely promising freshman. Zack Coleson, who had the highest number of goals for the season. Last on the list was the team captain: Peter Parker.

“I can talk to Harry,” MJ offered, “I can let him know that it’s you doing the interviews. I’ll make sure he tells them to go easy on you—”

“No, no,” she shook her head, “That might make it worse. And they already know that it’s not Eli coming. Or they should, at least”

“You sure?” MJ quirked a brow, her features crinkling in a way that was only intelligible as concern.

“They’ll be walking on eggshells around me if they know I’m chickenshit, I won’t get a good interview,” she sighed. Even if the interview wasn’t what she wanted to do, she was going to have to. And she would do a good job—a great job.

“You got this, Kitty,” MJ squeezed her shoulders. The nickname pulled a smile from her, and she gave into MJ’s touch.

“We’ll see about that,” she relented. Her eyes traveled back to the computer screen. The interviews were scheduled two days from now at the Stark Memorial Rink.

“Hey, MJ,” she hummed, “Could you grab me my noose?”

The rink was colder than she expected. The empty stands provided no body heat, not to mention there was a literal sheet of ice on the floor. Tugging at the strap of her messenger bag, she took slow, careful steps to the plexiglass.

Clink.

Her eyes widened. There were around ten to fifteen guys in full gear out on the ice, and another ten to fifteen more on a bench near the glass or flitting around the edge of the rink. She was nervous, so she got there early. Now, she was stuck watching them practice.

Leaving was so tempting. She could go back to her dorm, or better yet, leave college entirely. She could just give up and fall off the grid, cut her credit cards, throw her phone in the ocean, sail off to Greece—

“Hello?”

She cursed the muffled voice that pulled her back into reality. Blinking, she found that standing before her was one of the very hockey players she’d seen skating on the rink before her. He was tall, and gear under his black and purple jersey made him appear far more bulkier than she theorized he was. He slipped his helmet off to reveal brown, curly hair that was drenched in sweat.

“Hi,” she replied, trying not to sound as nervous as he would. He cocked his head at her as he popped out his mouth guard.

“This is a closed practice,” he said, though, he didn’t sound all too upset that she was here.

“Oh, yeah, I know,” she nodded quickly, her fingers toying with the strap of her bag again, “I’m a bit early, I’m supposed to be interviewing some people on the team. I’m—”

“Kitty?” She was interrupted by the sound of a voice as well as skates scraping across the ice. Glancing past the guy in front of her, she saw Harry slide off the ice and clomp to benches where they currently were.

“Hey, Harry.” Her lips were screwed up in a tight grin. He’d heard MJ call her Kitty once, and now it was the only thing he’d refer to her as.

“Kitty?” Mystery guy repeated the name with a hint of intrigue.

“It’s not my real name, my friends just call me that,” she shook her head.

“What’re you doing here?” Harry asked, swinging an arm around the shoulder of the guy in front of her.

“I’m Eli’s replacement,” she explained, trying to plaster a friendly smile to her lips, “I’m doing the interviews.”

“Aw, shit, why didn’t MJ tell me we got the cool Kitty-cat on the case?” Harry grinned.

“Could you try to never say those words again? Really hated it, thanks,” her nose crinkled.

“You got it.” He tried to point finger guns at her, but with the thick gloves on, it just looked like he was pointing his whole hand.

“Hey,” he started up again, “You’re a little early, so practice isn’t over yet, but we’re almost done. It’s just the four of us, right?”

“Right,” she nodded in response. It was a relief that they’d been briefed on the situation.

“Alright, well, I’m Harry, obviously, Miles and Zack are on the ice somewhere, and this right here—” Harry jostled the shoulders of the Mystery guy, “—is Peter. Oh captain, my captain!”

Peter chuckled as Harry clapped him on the back. The noise that emanated from the friendly hit was harsh, but Peter didn’t move a muscle.

“Right,” she nodded, “So, I figured we could do them individually? There’s some sort of specific questions for each of you.”

“Sounds good, Kitty,” Harry replied. She’d smack him if he said that name again.

“Sit tight for a bit,” Peter spoke up. Even with the stubble on his chin, his smile gave him a boyish appearance. He looked her up and down quickly, “We can try to wrap up practice early.”

'A bit' ended up feeling like forever. At first, she tried to distract herself with her phone, but it didn't work: she would open apps, scroll through them, then close them just to reopen them over and over again. So she organized her bag, which took about five minutes. Time seemed to tic by in a tauntingly slow manner. It was only when she saw a few of the players emerge from the locker room did she let out a breath of relief. She immediately sucked that breath back when she realized that she would actually have to talk to some of them.

Harry went first. It was easy enough to go through the questions with him. It was like talking to an over-eager relative at a family reunion, one who was just dying to talk about all the new things they're doing. Miles wasn't all that bad to interview, either. He was a lot more nervous than she was. His awkward pauses and constant strings of 'um' and 'uh' was almost comforting. Then came Peter.

"Kitty," he grinned as soon as he saw her seated on the bench next to the rink. He no longer wore his gear—just a hoodie and a pair of gray sweats. His hair, however, was still wet and tousled. She gave him a tight lipped smile in return.

"That's not my name," she replied. Before she had time to properly introduce herself, his raspy chuckle was already echoing through the open arena.

"You said that's what your friends call you, right?" He cocked his head as he sat down on the other edge of the bench.

"You're not—” If she could just make it through the interview without fuss, she'd be one person away from being free, "—right. That's what my friends call me."

"I'm going to be recording this, just so I can reference it later," she explained almost monotonously.

"This isn't my first time," he responded with another light laugh. She had to physically bite her tongue to fight off any comments. A soft click sounded from her phone as she started a new voice memo. Her eyes scanned the list of questions on the page before her. Some she'd already asked to Harry and Miles: How does it feel to make the tournament? What is the atmosphere of the team right now? She chose a fresh question to start with.

"What's it like to be the captain of this team? Are you proud? Overwhelmed?" She asked, her voice taking on a new tone closer to a news anchor than a regular person. Peter's lips curled up at the change.

"I'm proud, yeah," he nodded, his voice smooth, "This is a great group. But we all work our asses off, so I'm not surprised by how far we've come. Being their captain is really something."

"And—"

"Do you normally do sports? For the paper, I mean." Before she could even get her next sentence out, he interrupted her. Her grip on the papers in her hand tightened.

"No, not normally," she grit out, "And going along with your thoughts on being captain, what about making it to the tournament this year?"

"It's the best feeling in the world. It's something I've been chasing after for years now, finally getting to it is just...sort of indescribable." Even when his tone is nothing but sincere, he can't wipe the cocky grin from his lips.

"I can imagine," she smiled tautly in reply, "What was it like working your way up to captain? Was it a personal journey, or did you get support from the team?"

"I'd say it was an even mix of both," he hummed, "Do you like hockey?"

"What?" She furrowed her brows.

"Are you a hockey fan?" He reiterated, "Because our next game is home, and it's sort of packed, but I could get you some tickets assuming you don't have some already—"

"No—Peter," she let out a frustrated huff, tapping on her phone to momentarily pause the recording, "This is an interview, not social hour."

"Aren't interviews inherently social?" His smirk was infuriating.

"I mean that I ask the questions, you answer them," she grumbled, "Do you act like this with Eli? Are you not taking me serious because I'm a woman?"

"What?" His smirk fell immediately, "What? No—no. I'm taking you seriously, I take women very seriously. I'm all for women. They're great."

"Then can we just do this interview and get it over with?" She sighed, her finger hovering over the unpause button. He nodded, but before she could resume the interview, he quickly added: "But do you want tickets?"

Ignoring the question, she carried on. Peter seemed to mellow out after a while and didn't interrupt again. It was almost surprising how well he'd listened: he was giving her real, insightful answers to her questions without a hint of flirtation. The final interview with Zack flowed easily, and she fled Stark Memorial Rink as quick as she could.

Transcribing the interviews was the easiest part. Days later, she would be hunched over her computer in the darkness of her shared dorm, playing and replaying the recordings and typing out the words onto the screen. Her concentration was briefly interrupted, though, when the door opened and a stream of light threaded its way through the room and onto the back of her head.

"Light bad!" She slapped her hands over her eyes, "Light very bad!"

"You're gonna go blind if you keep staring at your computer in the dark," MJ spoke in a warning tone, but ultimately closed the door.

"Then blind I must go," she sighed, swiveling on her chair to look at her roommate, "How was class?"

"Normal," MJ shrugged, sliding her bag off her shoulders, "But I have a little something for you."

"Something for little ol' me?" She gasped in dramatized delight.

"Yes," MJ grinned widely as her hand reached for the zipper of her bag, "Close your eyes."

She obliged immediately, her nose scrunched in anticipation, "I hope it's a million dollars. Is it a million dollars? Am I close?"

"Almost," MJ giggled. After a moment of anticipation, MJ gently grabbed her hands and place something into them. It was thin and papery and rectangular. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see a white envelope with 'Kitty' written out on the front. Her brows furrowed at the unfamiliar handwriting.

"Is there a check for a million dollars inside?" She asked as she cocked her head.

"No clue, it's not from me," MJ shrugged.

"Then who's it from?" Her fingers slid under the lip of the envelope.

"Harry gave it to me to give to you," MJ grinned, "He said it's from Peter."

She should've sailed to Greece when she had the chance. Inside the envelope were two tickets—Empire State University versus Pennbrook University this Saturday at seven. A long groan left her lips before she finally met MJ's eyes.

"You never got me that noose I asked for."

a/n — not sure how i’m feeling abt this one guys. hockey peter has been causing me brain rot tho so i couldn’t help myself.

731 notes · View notes

asian-hero · 2 years ago

Text

Drunken Confessions

Alhaitham/Reader

It's hard to deny your feelings for the Acting Grand Sage and dear friend when your drunken self speaks them so earnestly. It's a shame you can't seem to recall them.

a/n: i have such brainrot for this man it's not even funny anymore

wc: 3.1k

The first thing you awoke to was the harsh light of the morning sun streaming through the curtains. Groaning, you moved an arm across your face, covering your eyes in an attempt to block the offending light from view.

The second thing you noticed, however, was the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting into the space. It was an alarming scent, considering you lived by yourself and never gave anyone a spare key. Shooting up, you blindly reached around, looking for something to defend yourself with. Though, your momentary panic was short-lived, as a familiar laugh cut through the air, the sound drawing closer with each second.

“So you’re finally awake,” Alhaitham mused, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding out the cup of coffee for you, “Are you feeling alright?”

Relaxing, you let out another tired groan, taking the warm cup from his hands. “I feel like I’ve been thrown off a twenty-foot cliff,”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” He chided, though a hint of laughter could be heard in his tone, his hand resting on your knee, “Considering the only painful experience you had last night was trying to out-drink Kaveh,”

Taking a long sip, you felt your eyebrows furrowing, trying your best to remember the night before. Bits and pieces came to you, with Alhaitham’s anecdote filling in some of the picture. All you could remember was Kaveh asking if you were available, citing some issues with a current client of his and wanting to drink his sorrows. Besides that, you couldn’t remember any other details, including how you found yourself in your current predicament.

Hesitantly, you set the coffee cup on the nightstand, taking in your surroundings. Large piles of heavy tomes and small, eclectic Aranara statues seemed to stare back at you. The comforter beneath your fingers felt soft to the touch, the olive green hue matching the rest of the house. It was also surprisingly heavier than you thought it’d be, its weight soothing your worries and inviting you to fall back into slumber. You felt Alhaitham’s thumb gently caress your covered knee, drawing your attention back to reality.

Looking back at the man in front of you, you felt your cheeks begin to heat up. It appeared that he’d gotten up earlier than you, all of his usual attire neatly in place, save for his cloak and headphones, both of which were surprisingly nowhere to be seen. In the time you were observing his room, he seemed to shift closer to you, his head tilted slightly as he continued to stare at you in curiosity. His watercolor eyes followed your every move, dipping from the fidgeting of your hands to your own wandering eyes. If you were any more delusional, you would’ve thought his gaze softened at your morning form, as if he were somehow enchanted by your disheveled self.

Subconsciously, you ran a hand through your hair in a poor attempt to tame any unruly pieces before tucking yourself into the weighted blanket, covering yourself as much as you could. “So, you brought me back to your home?”

Though it was an obvious question, he nodded his head, answering you seriously. “I did.”

You nodded your head along, your eyes landing upon a pile of clothes neatly folded on his armchair, looking suspiciously like the ones you were wearing the previous day. Peering beneath the weighted blanket, you felt your eyes widen in shock and embarrassment as you gazed upon a shirt that was indeed, not yours.

Your head snapped up, eyes wider than you thought possible. “I—You—Did we?”

At this, Alhaitham’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, I wouldn’t take advantage—” Pausing, the corners of his lips tipped downward, his eyes narrowing as if he were piecing the puzzle together, “Do you not remember anything?”

You winced at his tone, feeling as though you were no better than a child being scolded by their parent. “I’m sorry…I didn’t,” You hesitated, unsure if you should press the topic further, “I didn’t say anything bad, did I?”

For a short while, Alhaitham’s expression became unreadable. While normally he wasn’t easy to read, you were always able to get an idea of how he was feeling; whether or not he was happy and content, if he was irritated or overstimulated. Now, though, you couldn’t even begin to decipher what he was thinking. Before you could question him further, he suddenly stood up from his spot, dusting off imaginary dust from his pants.

“You didn’t say anything important,” He stated, back facing you as he moved to leave, “I have work. Feel free to use the shower, and make sure to wash my shirt before you return it.”

With that, the door to his bedroom closed behind him. If you listened closely, you could hear his footsteps growing further before the front door slammed shut. Though Alhaitham had, rather bluntly, told you that nothing happened, you couldn’t help but feel anxiety gnaw at your stomach, feeling as if you’d missed something important.

Not wanting to take advantage of the man’s hospitality for longer than needed, you quickly hopped into the shower, ignoring the fluttering of your heart as you washed yourself of the night before, and grabbed your clothes from the chair and changed, cringing at the thought of wearing your dirty laundry. Tidying up his bed, you hesitated on whether or not you should leave his shirt behind, before ultimately remembering he’d wanted it cleaned before you returned it. Tucking the aforementioned shirt underneath your arm, you made a break for the front door, not wanting to risk anyone seeing you leave the Acting Grand Sage’s house.

You would’ve made it too, had it not been for the blonde architect who was at fault for the entire night.

“Archons, Alhaitham, would it kill you to be a little quieter—” Kaveh complained, looking equally as disheveled, pausing as soon as his eyes landed on you.

For a few seconds, the two of you were in a standoff, both of you processing what was happening. Kaveh seemed to grasp the situation first, letting out an ugly snort.

“What’s this?” He started, an eyebrow arching playfully, “Bedding the Grand Sage? What, did he promise he’d approve your research proposal?”

You pointed an accusatory finger at him, eyes narrowing. “Do not start with me, Kaveh.”

Your warning did nothing to dissuade the architect, in fact, they only seemed to embolden him. Smirking, he sighed dramatically, placing a hand on his chest for added effect. “Oh dear, you know I’m teasing. I know you’d sleep with him with no ulterior motives, though I can’t fathom why on Teyvat—” Cutting himself off, he frowned, peering around for the aforementioned sage, “Wait, where is your loverboy?”

“He left for work,” You sighed, arms crossing protectively across your chest, “And he’s not my ‘loverboy,’ we didn’t even sleep together.”

Kaveh seemed surprised at this revelation, his lips parting in shock before he fixed his expression. Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, he gestured towards the coffee table, beckoning you to join him. Despite wanting to leave as soon as possible, you knew that as soon as Kaveh caught wind of your problems, it would take nothing less than a natural disaster to make him not help you. So, you took a seat, watching as he moved around the kitchen, brewing himself some tea, putting away the second cup when you politely declined.

As the two of you waited for the water to boil, he turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s going on with you two? You seemed to be okay after your little conversation,”

Your little conversation. So you had said something weird. You groaned, rubbing your temples as you processed everything. “That’s the problem, Kaveh. I can’t remember what I said last night.”

A pause. “Nothing?”

You hummed an affirmative, “When I asked Alhaitham about it, he seemed upset, but I don’t know why, and I can’t apologize for it if I can’t remember what I said.”

At your words, you watched as Kaveh’s expression shifted from one of surprise to one you couldn’t read. For the second time this morning, you found yourself utterly useless at reading others’ emotions.

“You truly can’t remember what you said?”

“I just told you—”

“Think about it,” He started, a hint of exasperated humor tinting his voice, “What could you possibly say last night that would make Alhaitham upset you couldn’t remember?”

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be in this position, you—”

“Think harder.”

When you only continued to look confused, Kaveh sighed, deciding to take pity on you. “Let me rephrase: did you notice anything…different, about him this morning?”

Huffing, you crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair as you thought back to earlier this morning. “I mean, before he left, he seemed, softer? He made sure I was okay but didn’t say much.”

Fingers drifting to your knee, your fingers traced the area where his hand was, heat slowly traveling back to your cheeks. “He was also more touchy?” You pouted, looking back up at the blonde man, “But I don’t see how—”

“Archons you’re dense,” He started, not stopping when you cried out indignantly, “You told him that you love him last night. That’s why he’s upset you can’t remember.”

The two of you were silent, the only sound being the whistling of the kettle, angrily announcing its presence. As if solving a puzzle, bits and pieces of your fragmented night began to replay in your mind, starting from your first drink with Kaveh, to Alhaitham walking in, helping you steady yourself as he led the two of you out of the tavern.

You also remembered how you’d immediately clambered onto the man as soon as you saw him walk into the tavern, a drunken smile plastered on your face as he attempted to steady the two of you, the lightest of blushes crawling up his neck.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked, before craning his neck to look at his roommate, “What did you do?”

You giggled as Kaveh protested behind you, refusing to accept fault for your current state. Smiling up at the gray-haired man, you leaned forward, resting your chin on his chest. “Don’t be mad, Haitham,” Moving your hands to cup his cheeks, you laughed, “‘S not a good look on you,”

“Oh?” He questioned, letting you manhandle his face as you wished, “I suppose I can’t be mad anymore then, can I?”

“Nope!” You chirped, tugging the corners of his lips into a lopsided smile, “Too pretty to be mad. Should smile more,”

As you trailed off, Alhaitham felt you slipping slightly. Gripping you tighter, he attempted to pull you towards the door, “C’mon, it’s time to get you home.”

He expected you to put up more of a fight, but instead, you seemed to melt into his touch, letting yourself be dragged along. “M’okay, thanks Haitham. Love you,”

At your words, he froze, his eyes snapping back to your figure. Taking his silence as disbelief, you pouted, pulling away from his grip slightly to face him.

“S’not nice. I said ‘love you,’” You reiterated, swaying slightly, “Say it back, asshole.”

When he still hadn’t said anything, your frown deepened. Pointing at him, your finger waving in his face. “You don’t believe me? Fine, I’ll shout it to the whole world—” Turning to face the rest of the tavern, you began to shout, “Hey! I’m in love with—!”

A calloused hand came to cover your mouth, and you felt Alhaitham’s strong arm wrap around your waist, tugging you toward the entrance. “Alright, I get it. Let’s go, we’ll talk about this later.”

Though his words were blunt, you noticed that his face was bright red, and there was a smile he couldn’t quite mask in time.

The scraping of a chair against wood floors caused you to snap back to reality. Lifting your head, you watched as a smug smirk began to overtake the architect’s face, though he tried to hide it with his cup of tea.

“Well?” He asked, setting his cup down as he watched you go through all five stages of grief in mere minutes, “Remember now? I’m sure everyone at Lambad’s remembers if you don’t.”

“I told him—”

“Yes.”

“In front of—?”

“Unfortunately,” Kaveh sympathized, though it was short-lived, “It was rather entertaining, though.”

“And he,” You started, voice faltering as you came to your next realization, “He feels the same way?”

The look Kaveh gave you was a mix between relief that you finally came to that conclusion, and disbelief that it took you that long to realize the younger man’s affections. Though, he supposed, it was better late than never for you to realize it.

Grabbing your hands in his own, Kaveh looked you in the eye, exasperation clear in his posture. “My dear, he’s felt the same way about you for a long time, and if I have to watch the two of you pine over each other for another minute I think I’ll snap.”

Looking at your intertwined hands, you squeezed his before dropping them, rising from your seat. “I need to go.”

You barely heard Kaveh wishing you luck before you let the door shut behind you, your legs taking you to the Akademiya as fast as they could. It was almost as if you were on autopilot for the entire way there, as you weren’t entirely sure how you’d managed to secure yourself access to the Acting Grand Sage without a prior meeting appointment. Though, if you were to guess based on the information you’d recently been enlightened to, you figured that Alhaitham had told the Akademiya staff that there was a list of certain people he’d allow into his office at any time, and you were most likely one of them.

You continued to go through the motions until you found yourself standing before the doors of Alhaitham’s office. Hesitantly, you knocked on the door, waiting for his answer.

“Come in.”

Taking a steadying breath, you pushed the doors open, peeking in only to find Alhaitham leaning back in his chair, his eyes scanning the document in his hand. You couldn’t help but stare, watching as his fingers tapped against his desk, seemingly subconsciously.

A loud sigh snapped you out of your daydreaming, the fingers tapping against the desk becoming more rapid. “If you have more proposals, just set them on the table and leave.”

“Oh,” You started, realizing that you hadn’t planned out what you wanted to say, “Sorry, I’m afraid I don’t have any proposals for you to review, but I do have some information from last night that you might like to hear,”

At the sound of your voice, Alhaitham’s eyes moved from the document, widening a fraction once they met yours. Slowly, he set down the papers, his arms crossing against his chest.

“I thought I told you that you didn’t—”

“I remember what I said last night.”

For the second time today, you’d managed to render Alhaitham speechless. Before he could come back with any sort of remark, you cleared your throat, shifting your weight. “I would just like to inform you that I am still very much in love with you, and hopefully it’s more believable now that I’m no longer ‘under the influence,’”

For what seemed like an eternity, the two of you were silent. You began to fidget with your hands; the tension in the office felt suffocating, and it didn’t help that Alhaitham just continued to stare at you, as if he were dissecting you, trying to find the truth within your words. Eventually, as anxiety continued to shred up your insides, you heard the sound of a chair being pushed back, and footsteps drawing closer to you. Long, elegant fingers wrapped around yours, pulling them apart from each other in order to intertwine them. Thumbs gently rubbed circles into the backs of your hands, similar to how they did this morning.

“You know,” He started, the smallest of pouts gracing his lips, “That was quite rude of you, to confess while under the influence and then not even remember the next morning.”

You laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. “Well, it’s rude of you to not even give me an answer. I laid out my love for you in front of everyone last night, and you didn’t even say it back!”

He hummed, the ghost of a smile lighting his eyes. “I suppose I was rude, wasn’t I?” Leaning closer, he reveled in the way you froze up, tensing underneath his touch, “I should make it up to you, right?”

Moving his hands to caress your cheeks, he smiled, unabashed and unrestrained. “I am unequivocally and irreversibly in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for ages, and I’m so thankful that you’ve finally decided to open your eyes and see it.”

When you continued to stare at him in awe, he laughed, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He waited patiently for you to come back down, his hands trailing down to hold your waist.

Once you finally regained your ability to speak, you said the first thing on your mind. “I didn’t wash your shirt.”

You heard an unelegant snort come from the man in front of you, turning his head to the side in an attempt to hide his mirth. “I noticed.”

You nodded your head, humming as if you were lost in thought. “I love you too, by the way.”

“I figured,” He drawled, squeezing your waist teasingly, “Otherwise you wouldn’t barge into my office without notice.”

“Oh, so I’m that predictable, huh?” You challenged, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Habibti,” He tested, enjoying the way your face heated up, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, there’s almost nothing about you that I can’t predict.”

“Oh really?”

Before he could make a snide remark, you cupped his cheeks, surging forward to press a kiss to his lips. You could feel Alhaitham stiffen against you, before melting into your embrace, his hands moving to card through your hair. His lips were soft and warm against your own, allowing you to take control. You could feel his breath tickle the skin beneath your nose, and you eventually had to pull away, giggling at the way Alhaitham’s lips chased you.

You pressed a quick kiss to this cheek, enjoying the slightly dazed look in his eyes. “I bet you didn’t see that one coming, did you?”

At this, he laughed along, pulling you closer to him. Dipping his head for another kiss, he smiled against your lips.

“I can’t say that I did.”

everyone say 'thank you kaveh' bc these fools certainly won't </3

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #al haitham x you #alhaitham fluff #genshin fluff

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advisorykitty · 2 months ago

Note

I NEED CAT-NAP PART 2 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭ME AND OOMFS R UR BIGGEST FANS

Rat Runners and Fury

How could i say no to my biggest fans! ^_^ this also gave me a good reason to write lmao

The day started innocently enough. The Ivory household was relatively quiet for once. Nyen wasn’t stomping around, Nyon was “borrowing” more magazines from who-knows-where, Randal and Sebastian had gone and some odd adventure something about cody at the gas station Master Luther was resting and the ratmen were… well, alive and causing chaos somewhere as usual. Perfect time for a little covert operation: feeding the ratmen. Again.

You crouched low in the pantry, carefully packing up a small stash of scraps—half a loaf of bread, some almost-cheese, and a suspiciously soft apple. “Alright, guys,” you whispered, peeking into the crack in the wall. “You know the drill.”

Robert poked his head out, his nose twitching nervously. “You sure about this?” he whispered back. “Last time, Nyen nearly turned me into a throw rug.”

“Relax,” you said, stuffing the food into a small cloth bag. “I’ll handle Nyen if he shows up. Now, hurry up before he—”

“HEY!”

Too late.

Nyen’s voice roared from somewhere down the hall, and the ground shook slightly as his heavy boots stomped closer. The ratman froze, his eyes mildly wide.

“Run!” you hissed, tossing the bag into Robert’s thands.

The ratman bolted, scurrying through the cracks and crevices of the house with impressive speed. You spun around just in time to see Nyen appear in the doorway, his eyes blazing with fury.

“TRAITOR!” he bellowed, pointing an accusatory claw at you. “You’re feeding them again?! You sneaky little—!”

“What?” you said, feigning innocence. “They looked hungry.”

“They’re always hungry!” Nyen snapped. “And you’re making it worse! Where are they?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, shrugging. “Maybe you should… cool off a little?”

Wrong answer. Nyen’s tail lashed like an angry whip as he stormed past you, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. “I can smell them,” he growled. “Where’d they go?”

You followed him, keeping a safe distance as he stomped through the house. Meanwhile, you casually dropped little clues for the ratmen to follow—a tap on the wall here, a soft whistle there. You couldn’t see them, but you knew they’d pick up on the signals.

Nyen suddenly stopped, his ears twitching. “There!” he snarled, lunging toward a small crack near the baseboard.

“Um-! not so fast!” you said, stepping in his way. “Maybe you should think this through. You’re scaring the rats.”

“Good!” Nyen barked, shoving past you. “They deserve it!”

In the next room, you heard the faint scuffle of feet. Robert was close to his escape route. You quickened your pace, throwing Nyen off just enough to give them more time.

“Over there! They went that way!” you shouted, pointing in the opposite direction.

Nyen paused, glaring at you suspiciously. “Why are you helping me all of a sudden?”

“Maybe I’m tired of stale bread,” you said with a smirk.

He didn’t buy it for a second. With a guttural growl, he turned back toward the crack in the wall, but it was too late. The ratmen had already slipped through their escape hole and disappeared into the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the house.

“NO!” Nyen roared, slamming his fist against the wall. “Goddamn rodents! Traitors! EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE IS A TRAITOR!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Better luck next time, big guy.”

Nyen turned on you, his face a mask of pure rage. “You think this is funny?! You think you can just waltz around here undermining me?!” He stepped closer, his chest heaving. “You’re worse than the rats. Worse!”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things,” you said, grinning.

That was the final straw. Nyen snarled, grabbed your shoulder, and shoved you back. You stumbled but quickly recovered, twisting to throw off his grip with a dramatic, exaggerated spin. The move sent you both off balance for a second—comically enough to make even Nyen pause in confusion.

“What the fuck was that?!” he bellowed, his tail swishing furiously. “You’re messing with me now! ON PURPOSE?!”

“Sure am,” you said with a grin. “And I’m winning!”

Nyen let out a guttural scream of frustration, storming off down the hall while shouting a barrage of curses that grew increasingly incoherent. You caught words like “ungrateful,” “goddamn meddler,” and something that sounded suspiciously like a threat to ship you to Siberia.

You watched him go, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Better luck next time,” you muttered to yourself.

“You… stop,” came a thickly accented voice from behind you.

You turned to see Nyon standing there, holding a half-eaten pickle and looking unusually serious. His eyes—normally glassy and disinterested—were fixed on you with surprising intensity.

“Stop?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Stop what?”

“Annoying Nyen,” Nyon said slowly, his Russian accent thicker than usual. He gestured vaguely with the pickle. “Not… good. He… uh… very mad. Not safe.”

“What’s he gonna do? Growl at me some more?” you said, brushing it off.

Nyon shook his head, his expression unreadable. “No. He do…” He paused, struggling to find the words. “He do… bad. You stop.”

“What kind of bad?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Nyon opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of something crashing in the distance cut him off. He glanced over his shoulder, his usually relaxed demeanor slipping into something closer to… fear?

“You stop,” he repeated firmly, stepping closer. “Not joke. Big bad.”

Before you could press him further, he turned and shuffled away, muttering something in Russian under his breath.

You stood there, frowning, your mind racing. What did he mean by “big bad”? And why did he look so worried? Sure you pissed Nyen her and there but he wouldn't actually hurt you.. right?

Maybe this game with Nyen wasn’t as harmless as you thought…

(kinda short sowwy T-T)

#ranfren x reader #nyen catman #nyen ranfren #nyon ranfren #fanfic #nyon and nyen #randals friends

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jimblejamblewritings · 1 year ago

Text

the fake date plot | part 6.

Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.

Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: yeah I know I've been gone for a year... I have no words, my bad

Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)

James came down with the rest of the marauders to find you had already fixed a big plate of breakfast for him. He gave you a peck on the cheek as he took off his quidditch jumper before sitting down.

“Thanks, bug.”

“Why do you call me that?” you asked, taking a bite of your English muffin.

“Do you not like it? I can call you something else.”

“No, I like it. I was just wondering why.”

James shrugged. “Never thought about it… You’re cute and little, some bugs are cute and little. Yep, makes sense.”

“I’m not little.”

“You’re littler than me. It counts.”

“You’re freakishly tall.”

“Remus is freakishly tall.”

“So are you.” You popped a fried potato chunk in your mouth.

“Just accept it, bug.”

You went back to your breakfast, deciding his answer and little argument was satisfactory enough for you. James nudged you with his shoulder, beginning a mini battle between the two of you until he finally conceded. It was still a learning process for the two of you, trying to figure out how to play up your fake dating. Your friends were definitely suspicious and while Lily seemed to move a bit closer, Xeno didn’t even glance your way.

You were worried that maybe you and James were switching places in regards to the objects of your affection. You felt something squeeze your thigh ever so slightly and looked over to see James was seemingly in conversation with Peter. He must’ve caught you staring too long at the Ravenclaw table and a certain someone.

Shaking your head, you went back to eating. That’s right. You were with James and you two needed to be sickeningly in love. Besides, Lily was coming around so maybe Xeno was just distracted right now. You opened up your journal to jot down a few notes. A looming presence hung over your right shoulder.

“Yes, Jamie?” you asked without looking up.

“I’m just looking at your calendar.” He pointed to a blank Wednesday. “Quill in a study date, right when classes end.”

“Study? James Potter, when have you ever studied anything that wasn’t Charms and Defense?”

“Well, do you really need to study wand lore or broom craft? And does memorizing a whole script count as studying?”

“It does when you’re in a drama club. And if I can’t become an actress then I need to feed myself so I’m learning to make quidditch equipment. You idiots break at least two brooms every week each, not to mention the other stuff. I’ll never have to worry about money.”

“You’re learning about quidditch?”

You finally looked up, recognizing the shift in James’ tone from when you two were acting for your friends versus being genuine. Giving your fake boyfriend a smile, you stole some food off his plate.

“It’s not because you like it. It’s because you, especially, are rich and will buy my brooms and convince all your teammates to buy my brooms.”

He laughed so loud it made students at the other houses’ tables, including Xeno, look over. James squished your cheeks and gave you a peck.

“I should have known you were only with me for my money. Well, I hate to inform you, love, I’ve just squandered the family fortune on flying carpets.”

You rolled your eyes. “How do you have a cute comeback for everything?”

“You think it’s cute?”

You stood up from the table. “You are the cutest, Jamie. The most adorable scrumdiddlyumptious squishy-wishy super-duper boyfriend in the whole world.”

“I sense I’m being teased.”

“I would never tease you, Jamie bo-baimey taimey waimey rai—”

“Ha ha, very funny. Now you deserve the punishment jumper.”

“Punishment jumper? What am I, five years old?” Your words were muffled by a red jumper covering your face before your head popped out the other side. You looked down. “You just wanted me to wear your jumper.”

James blushed and you wanted to laugh. Natural blush wasn’t easy with fake dating but the two of you figured out a relatively uncomfortable trick if the two of you weren’t on the same page. You were allowed to picture Xeno whenever you wanted and James was allowed to picture Lily. He was totally imagining her in his jumper— it probably helped that you and Lily were the same height and body type so the jumper fit exactly like it would on her.

Your fake boyfriend scratched the back of his head. “Some of the team was talking about how they like seeing their partner in their jumpers and I wanted to know what that was like.”

“And?”

“Don’t know yet, it just looks like I dropped it on you.”

“That’s cause you did drop it on me. Wait, let me fix it.”

You pulled out the collar and untucked your shirt so the tails were sticking out. The sweater almost covered your skirt entirely since it was already oversized on James that you weren’t sure if you’d get a violation or not but you didn’t try to adjust it. You gave a little twirl.

“Tada.”

“You look great.”

Leaning over James, who covered your skirt with his hands to make sure nothing showed, you collected your stuff. “I’ll see you later, okay? Marls, are you coming with me to Herbology or still eating?”

Marlene tried to recover from getting caught staring, mouth open, at you and James. She shook her head no and you made your way out of the Great Hall to head to Herbology. James left only five minutes after you in order to give your friends space to gossip in peace.

The two of you were counting on Sirius and Mary to get louder by the minute until it garnered everyone’s attention. You were sure it worked when Alice came into the greenhouse practically squealing at you. You and James were the hottest topic in school. All you could do was roll your eyes and keep taking notes as Alice started planning your entire future together. You turned to look at your friend. James wouldn’t hate you for telling one person. You both had planned to tell your closest friends when the time was right and you couldn’t take keeping a secret anymore.

“Hey, Alice. Me and Jam—”

The door to the greenhouse swung open but it was Professor Sprout that came in. It was James standing in the threshold.

“Your birthday is this weekend,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger.

“Yes, James.”

“Bug, you didn’t say what you wanted for your birthday.”

“I’m okay.”

“What?” His eyebrows crinkled together. “You don’t want anything?”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“Birthdays are a completely big deal.”

“Well… I just don’t want anybody spending too much on me this year. My parents and I are saving up for university… if there is a university.”

It was an unspoken thing that no student might make it to university when the war was ramping up. If Voldemort and the Death Eaters got bigger, a draft was likely to happen. And unlike muggles, men and women were drafted in the wizarding world since all the fighting was done with magic and didn’t require any strength outside of mental. James shook his head.

“That’s an even better reason to give you something. It won’t be large, I promise.”

“Small things can still be very expensive.”

“Honestly, I’ve never looked at a price tag in my life.”

You sighed. “You and Sirius live totally different lives from the rest of us, I wish I had rich parents… Okay, I concede. If it isn’t big then it can be whatever you want.”

“Good. I have to go now before Slughorn loses his mind that I’m not there or worse pairs me up with Snape as a punishment.”

(part 7...)

THIS TAGLIST:

@starsval @helloitsmeeeeeee @callsigndiamond @isabela30 @rachelccollier @ghostkingblake @b3t0xic @tendous-pretty-hair @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @superduckmilkshake @sendnuwudes @prongsprincessworld @slightlynotslightlyobsessing @wildernessflora @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @mommymilkerfanclub @amandachrystinallc @lupinsbookshelf @harrysgoldenwatermelon @loving-and-dreaming @that-simp-sin @bubybubsters @peachesgaeass @jellyfishlioncrab @cenkisabibl

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107 @i-have-no-life-charlie

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter fic #marauders fic #marauders imagines #marauders fluff #marauders era #harry potter fic

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luza-wayne · 9 months ago

Text

an important question.

miya osamu x reader

1.8k words

osamu bby! hope you enjoy this!

the sliding door opened and you quickly turned around and smiled at the person who just went in.

“welcome!” you and your workmates said, everybody's reflex making everyone speak in chorus.

when the customer settled for a seat, you quickly walked to them and pulled out your notebook and pen.

“good afternoon, what would you like to have today?”

“yes. i’ll have today’s special.” they answered, smiling.

“roger.” you said as you wrote it down. you turned around and looked at the kitchen’s door where the cook patiently waited for orders.

“today’s special for one!” you shouted and he gave you a thumbs up to say he's got it.

as you were about to clean out one of the tables, you heard the door open again.

“welcome!”

i think we're going to have a busy day today.

…

“phew…” you exhaled.

“(y/n),” the owner who also manages the counter calls. “please do the honor.” he joked.

you chuckled as you made your way to the entrance.

you turned the signage around and showed the ‘closed’ side.

finally, you sighed.

you walked back in after you picked up the board outside.

“one customer said that there was a graduation ceremony nearby.” your colleague informed everyone.

“so that's why…” you replied.

“let's clean up fast so we can go home already.” the owner ordered and you all headed to your designated cleaning areas and started the work.

as you were arranging the plates, your workmates called you.

“(y/n), hey.” she said,

you turned around to look at her, but suddenly you're being pushed to the back door.

“eh? why? i'm not done with the plates yet.” you said.

“i’ll do it. i’ll do it. he’s waiting for you. i still owe you a favor for covering for me last time.” she said, giggling while she went back inside.

you knew who she was talking about, so you just thanked her and went to your locker and changed.

you tried your best to be as fast as possible, your feet probably moving faster than shinkansen.

you looked at the clock and noted that he's already waiting for fifteen minutes. fortunately, you're already done packing your things and retouching your makeup.

you went to say goodbye to your workmates and to the owner.

you opened the backdoor and saw him sitting on the railing wearing earphones and scrolling through his phone, most likely, he's on tiktok.

since he didn't notice you were out already, you walked behind him and covered his eyes with your hands.

“guess who?” you uttered with a slightly different voice.

“damn. hmm… i wonder who… i can't think of anyone… oh my god… who is this?” he replied with the most monotonous voice you've ever heard in your life.

“haha, you're so funny.” you said as you removed your hand off of his eyes.

“why? i played along though?” he asked as he opened to you the plastic bag he was holding.

“whatever.” you said as you scan for a certain flavor of onigiri in the bag.

he noticed you searching for your usual pick of onigiri.

“ah, shit. sorry, it was sold out today. i told one of my workers to leave some, but he was a newcomer, so he forgot it. pick a different flavor for now. i'll be sure to bring some next time.” he explained as he scuffled through the bunch of onigiri, looking for a certain one.

“here, try this. it's a new flavor. i'm still working on it. if you think it's good enough, then i'll add it to the menu.” he muttered and handed you the food.

“come on, don't say that. you’re pressuring me.” you whined, but still accepted it.

“well, your favorite flavor was also made because you kept inventing and mixing up ingredients, ingredients that are kinda suspicious actually, but who would've thought it'll become a massive hit to the customer.” he muttered as he stood up.

“first of all, i didn't know you put it on the menu and second, that just means that my taste buds are for the masses.” you said and took a bite off of the onigiri. “it's delicious, but it's kinda bland.” you commented.

“of course, i'll put it in. you said you liked it and that i should put it for sale. also, noted. thanks for the review.” he replied. he held you on your waist to silently tell you two to start walking.

“i was obviously just kidding about putting it for sale! why would you take it seriously?” you told him, looking up at him. all while still continuing to eat.

he just chuckled at your complaints and then went to grab one onigiri for himself too.

“at least, many people liked it.” he countered.

“well… of course, i'm glad about that.” you replied.

you squeezed closer to him and rested your head on his side of his chest. he held your body a bit tighter, so that he could guide your body on the way home.

“anyways, how was your work?” you asked, starting a new topic.

“well, it was quite hectic today.” he started and you hummed as a reply for him to continue his story.

“the newbie i was talking about earlier made a lot of mistakes, but he's getting the hang of it.” he added.

when there is a crossroad, the traffic light is still red. he stopped and looked at the remaining time. there's still a lot left.

you automatically stopped walking too when he did, but didn't bother to look at the lights. you know he'll tell you when it's green already.

while waiting he rested his chin on your head, before planting kisses on your hair. he likes smelling your hair. even after work hours, he said it still smells good and would smell it regardless.

“let's go.” he softly informs you when the lights say go.

responding to his voice, your body just moved on its own and followed the guidance of his hold on your waist.

“how about yours? did your work go well?” he queried next.

“it was so busy today.” you immediately replied, your voice unintentionally made a whining sound, not that you mind him hearing it. “there was a graduation ceremony near our work and a lot of families were celebrating there.” you complained as you wrapped your hands around his body and buried your face on his shirt.

the smell of his perfume is still present. the fragrance that you like the most.

he straight away comforted you by rubbing your back up and down.

“good work.” he chuckled.

you looked up at him, glaring.

“what? why did you laugh?” you asked.

“you're so cute.” he said, without missing a beat.

you immediately hide your face by burying your face once again on his shirt as soon as you feel your face heating up.

“stop it, idiot.” you said.

“yeah, yeah.” he replied while ruffling your hair.

as you turned a corner, osamu remembered one thing they were talking about earlier.

“that's right. are you free this weekend?” he asked.

you glanced up at him and tilted your head.

“why?” you told him.

“we're having a vacation with the whole family. wanna come with me?” he nonchalantly asked.

you let go of him and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“are you serious?” you questioned him.

“that was a genuine question.” he answered.

with his family?!

“i-i'll give it a thought.” you replied.

“you don't have to come if you don't want to.” he reminded you as he pulled you closer again and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“i'll understand, don't worry. 'tsumu's also there so i definitely understand.” he snickered.

“it's not about atsumu! i actually get along with him pretty well. ah— that's right, i saw him the other day. he treated me to a drink, haha.” you said, thinking back about that day.

“what?” he halted and of course, because he was holding you close, you stopped too.

“why didn't you tell me about that?” he asked with a serious voice.

you were not an idiot. of course, you know why he's acting like that.

you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“don't worry. he didn't do anything funny. he was quite respectful to be honest. he knows his boundaries.” you smiled at him to calm him down.

he was unsure at first, but he did calm down from his obvious intent to land a punch on his very lovely twin. all thanks to you, though.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust atsumu, it’s just with the current situation, he might blurt out something unnecessary.

“here's my house. thanks for walking me home.” you said as you stood in front of him and tip toed.

“you're welcome, madame.” he replied to you.

noticing that you were tip toeing, he smiled and leaned down.

“thank you.” you said as you kissed his cheek. you smiled at him and he didn't even try to hide his blushing face.

“hey,” he hesitated for a moment.

“hm?” you hummed.

“i just wanna ask… are we—” he looked at you.

he sighed and shook his head sideways.

“nothing. good night.” he uttered, smiling.

“be careful on your way home, okay? bye-bye.” you said as you turned around and walked inside.

“i will.” he smiled watching you go inside your house.

as soon as he made sure you got inside safely, he started walking towards his house. since he's alone now, he can now walk faster.

when he arrived home, he saw atsumu arriving too.

“why are ya' here?” he asked.

“what? can't i visit my twin's place?” he answered, already sounding offended by his twin's question.

osamu just rolled his eyes and opened the front door.

“did ya' just arrive home too? ya’ sure are late.” atsumu said, looking at his wristwatch. “ah. ya' walk (y/n) home, didn't ya'?” he guessed— right.

“hm… being so clingy with each other and even kissing, on the cheeks, picking her up from her work and even walking her home. are ya' sure ya' two ain't in a relationship?” atsumu smirked.

osamu looked back at him and glared.

“shutting yer' mouth will get ya' dinner, just so ya' know.” he threatened.

atsumu knows it better than anyone else. he really won't give him his home-cooked dinner if he won't shut up.

osamu walked to the kitchen and started preparing dinner.

“stupid 'tsumu. i also wanted to ask her that.”

meanwhile, you turned the lever of the shower and closed your eyes.

i thought he was gonna ask me about our current relationship earlier. you thought as the water hit your skin.

i chickened out earlier. osamu thought as he turned on the stove.

both sighed in defeat.

next time, i’m really going to ask it! they both said for a million times, only to not bring it up tomorrow.

hope you enjoyed that one, because i did. reblogs would be much appreciated!

if you'd like to support me and my broke ass, you can tip me at my ko-fi acc! thank you very much!

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #osamu x yn #osamu x you #haikyuu x you #luza-wayne #luza-wayne works

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