#i will enjoy this last opportunity to call it the last of us 3: the last of the seraphites because it bc no way it has staying power

[oddthumbswetsleeves]

Hiding - Oneshot

Inspired by this post by @crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington <3

“Have you heard from B today?”

Elita-1 looked up from her datapad at her former-incompetent-subordinate turned leader. He looked stressed, or maybe nervous? It was hard to tell ever since he received the matrix.

“No. I haven’t seen him since the last time he messed up putting the supplies in storage.’ She looked back at the forms she was filling out. “He’s probably avoiding us cause he’s embarrassed.

“Embarrassed?” Optimus sounded confused. Elita realised she had neglected to tell the prime about B’s latest incident.

“He put a lot of the supplies he was sorting into the wrong places. I mean, seriously! I gave him possibly the easiest job I could have, and he still messed it up.” Optimus didn’t look like her answer had put him at ease. “He’ll be fine. If he’s embarrassed it might teach him to listen a little more.”

“Just-“ They met optics, “Tell me if you see him, or if you can get through to him. He won’t answer my comms.” He sighed. “I’m worried.”

He definitely looked nervous now.

“Yeah, sure.” Elita went back to reading. Optimus was silent for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but left quickly.

Once he was out of audial-range she tried B-127’s comm, certain Optimus was exaggerating. B never missed an opportunity to blabber.

“B”

Nothing

“B-127, respond.”

Still nothing

“B, this isn’t funny. Answer me.”

Silence

Elita never thought she would be able to use that word to describe the yellow bot. She started feeling slightly worried before it was replaced with something else.

How dare he hide away from his duties as an Autobot because he was embarrassed. He wasn’t the only one struggling with his new status. Being the Autobot commander and essentially second-in-command of Cybertron was exhausting. Every moment she wasn’t recharging or refuelling she was working. B was not going to get away with skirting his duties.

She was gonna find him.

Where the frag was he?

Elita had spent nearly half the orn asking around for the little mech. No one had seen him since she had. Not Jazz, not Ratchet, not even Prowl, who was usually aware of all Autobot activity. The other scouts had gibed her about B-127’s unrivalled skills in what they called “Extreme Hide and Seek”.

“If B’s hiding from you there’s no chance you’ll find him” one taunted. Primus, she hated being around the scouts, nosy bunch.

“Wait, why do you think he’s hiding from me?”

“Why else would you be looking for him? He’s told us about how busy you are.” Another one answered.

“Well, you’re not helping!” She stormed off before they could peeve her off more.

Elita was definitely getting hangry, so she decided to stop to get energon before anyone could risk mentioning it to her. Everyone had really been enjoying the abundance of it. The decreasing rations had been affecting the cogless bots hard. She remembered after being transferred to waste management seeing how some of the supervisors were stealing others rations off the delivery lines for themselves. That was one of the first things she fixed, especially since many of the bots on lower levels didn’t leave their stations during their breaks. Mostly the bots on the sub-

The sub-levels

“The best hiding spots are ones that other bots don’t know exist.” B-127 told her that once while he was training to be a scout. He was mostly talking about places that taller bots couldn’t get to, but almost no one knew about the 10 extra sub-levels.

“Scrap”

The elevator rattled more the lower it went. It was also getting noticeably hotter. The doors opened and after stepping out they surprisingly didn’t close behind her. Strange. She didn’t say anything at first, trying to hear any noise that wasn’t coming from the furnace.

She felt isolated.

Even though Elita knew she could contact anyone she wanted instantly, there was just something about the room emanated loneliness, but B had to be here.

She looked around. The room was small, nothing besides the furnace, the conveyor belt, and the trash chute.

Unless…

One of the walls seemed to have a handle, and when she moved it... Another room! She pushed it over.

What on Cybertron?

The walls were lined with multicolour string lights. The room had a table and chairs, but in the chairs were 3 piles of trash. They were kind of bot shaped. She guessed one of these were what “Steve” was, who Orion supposedly killed and D-16 insisted wasn’t real. Primus this guy was weird. Just before she turned away, she saw it. There was something golden-yellow barely poking up from behind the table. Elita had to stop herself from groaning. Some hiding expert he was.

“B” He didn’t move. Elita crossed her arms.

“B-127 I can see you.” He slowly ducked out of view. Elita’s face scrunched up, “Get out here right now or so help me, I will drag you back up to Iacon by your finials.”

The bot cautiously stood up, looking anywhere except her face. Neither one said anything for a few moments. Elita tapped her finger against her arm, making sure B could hear it. He still did not say anything. Elita started feeling nervous again, B didn’t even recharge this quietly. She wouldn’t show it though, he wasn’t getting any pity from her.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Why are you down here?” He asked quietly.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Elita leaned forward, but B still didn’t look up. “Why are you hiding? Do you think I’ll just forget your screw-up if I don’t see you for a few orns?”

“I’m not hiding. You know I’m here now, you can go back to work.” He fidgeted with his servos.

“What, so you can keep sulking here?”

“I’m not sulking.” His voice was low, but a bit rough.

Had he been crying?

“Then why are you down here?”

“You were really mad at me the last time I messed up. You said I was running out of chances.”

“So?” Her gaze steeled. His breath hitched.

Was he going to cry again?

“Well, that’s what supervisors used to say to me before I would get demoted” their optics met, “and you were a supervisor…”

“So, you came down here?” She gripped her arms a bit tighter.

“I’ve never had a boss who was my friend before.” He looked down at his servos, still keeping his voice low. “I just didn’t want to see your face when you decided to give up on me.” Fluid dripped from his optics.

“Give up?” Her voice was suddenly much softer. She cleared her throat. “Why would you think I’d give up on you? We’re friends, you said it yourself.”

“Megatron was Optimus’ friend, and he dropped him to the centre of Cybertron.”

Elita felt a pang in her spark. That might have been the scariest moment of her life, including everything that happened leading up to it. B had been the one to stop her from trying to grab Orion as he plummeted. In the frenzy she might have fallen after him. B had probably saved her life.

She was definitely failing to hide her pity now.

They were both silent for a while, the furnace rumbling softly behind her. Elita sighed and walked around the table. B shrunk under her gaze. This was the first time she had ever felt bad about making a subordinate scared of her. She put her servos on his shoulders, taking care to be gentle, and bent down slightly to be at optic level with the scout.

He was definitely crying.

Elita wrapped her arms around him tightly. He tentatively moved his servos up to her back. She felt him shake.

“Are you not mad at me?” B’s voice quivered. She sighed, squeezing tighter.

“I’m not sure I am anymore.” Letting go to hold his shoulders again. He sniffled and she moved her servos to cup his face. “Why haven’t you answered any comms? Optimus is practically beside himself.”

“I didn’t know you guys were calling me.”

“What?! Is your commlink broken?” She turned his helm to look at his audials. He pulled her servos away from his face. They had tears on them.

“No.” He looked towards the furnace. “I’m pretty sure no signals reach down here from the surface.

Elita’s face scrunched. She turned away, reaching a digit up to her commlink.

“Optimus, come in.”

No response. She swore quietly.

“We’re going back to Iacon before the boss starts pulling walls down to find you.” She held her servo out. B hesitated.

“He’s looking for me?”

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” B tapped his pedes nervously.

“I thought you guys were kinda fed up of me.” Elita chose not to address that. She grabbed his servo and pulled him towards the elevator. It was still open.

“How come these doors didn’t close behind me?”

“Cause they don’t open from this side. It’s so if somebot comes down here to get something they won’t get stuck.”

“But that means…” Her spark sank in her chassis.

“Yeah, I can’t call the elevator.”

She stared at him. She felt the rage she frequently had for Sentinel and his lackeys build up.

“So you planned on staying down here forever?” B started wringing his servos again.

“I dunno”

“Well how would you have come back up if I hadn’t found you here?”

“Optimus, Megatron and I climbed up through the chute.” He pointed at it. “I probably could have done that again.”

“Would you have?”

B didn’t answer.

“You’re coming back to Iacon with me.” She put a servo on his shoulder. “I cleared my schedule when I went looking for you so we can do whatever you want, ok?” She led him into the lift. He shrugged. “There are a couple movies I’ve been too busy to watch. We can watch them in my quarters if you want.”

“Sure” He smiled for the first time since she found him.

“We do have to go see Prime first. I’m a bit worried he has actually turned headquarters upside down in my absence.” B giggled. Elita felt a weight lift off her spark. Once the elevator started moving, she pulled him into another hug, more forcefully this time.

“Never scare me like that again, or I will actually kill you.”

“Okay”

[baltimorebullets]

Like the New Yorker before me, this week’s viewings will cover THE SUBSTANCE (2024), which I actually saw a week or two ago but am still thinking about, and A DIFFERENT MAN (2024), which I did actually see this week and am kinda bummed about A24’s throttling of its release. As they are both very heavily about The Body, I am going to talk about The Body, so here is a very broad content warning about that. Also, my “reviews” are diary entries. With spoilers. On we go!

TRACK ONE

So one opinion I have that I can’t quite square even with myself is that I’m fairly anti-cosmetic and plastic procedures. It’s a stance I can’t defend from reasonable counters concerning bodily autonomy, especially when it comes to gender-affirming care. I can’t imagine myself as someone with any authority to say, any right to judge, what people have to just live with. I don’t think I have much to add to one of the hot topics when it comes to choice feminism vs. liberal feminism. But I guess that’s the magic of Genre and Cinema to give some new form to discussion.

The Substance is disgusting. As in, it’s body horror, and I spent multiple scenes hiding behind my hands, groaning out loud, kicking my legs. And please believe I am generally someone who believes in the holy sanctity of quiet theater experience; it was all involuntary responses to an undeniably visceral movie. There was the obvious parts to it — lumbar punctures into oozing, infected wounds are gross — but undeniably the momentum also rode on the rush of schadenfreude, watching and waiting for someone to pay the price for not following the rules. No one has ever been more botched than Elisabeth Sparkle is by the end of this movie.

I texted a friend after leaving that the ending is a Carrie for the modern era. Blood and blood and gore and tits and blood. Elisabeth — some form of Elizabeth — crying out, “I’m still me.”

Of course I felt bad. I felt like an asshole. That’s the whole thing. Elizabeth is never a bad person. She’s not even a mean person. She just got older. What that meant to her existed outside of herself. 

So, I found Contrapoints’ video Beauty to be one of her weakest, and while I value Envy a lot, I was equally unimpressed by her decision to leave the Kardashian disdain as just envy. I’ll take their money, sure, but there is also something peculiar in the experience of my eyebrows, my mouth, my skintone, my ass but not my stomach becoming a trend, something to be bought—

And then, on the horizon, like the great evil it is, some TERF rises up and starts in on and it’s the same for the commodification of womanhood—

Anyway, I’ve been recreationally starving myself this year. By some measurements, it’s gone pretty great. I talk about it with exactly no one, because I don’t want to hear about it. Once again, I find myself caught between a diet culture that I hate and fat acceptance that I full-heartedly believe in, but, also I’m still doing this. And not for health reasons. I’ve always breathed easy, my joints have always been strong, I’m never sick, except for all the times I just say I’m sick because I’m so constantly and deeply miserable it’s hard to explain any other way, and by some definitions of disability, it’s an accurate description, so. 

More than my body feels like my body, it feels like a site of neglect, and not in the way people who hate fat people mean it, but in the inhale deeply then list everything that has ever gone wrong in your life starting from conception sort of way. My body that is a poor body and a rural body and an abused body and a neurodivergent body and a Black body and a body of my family before it is my body. Any choice I made was preceded by those realities, which is to say there was no choice but to withstand, until I reached this point where I can make decisions about what I want for myself, from this body. 

… Want? Aw, fuck.

TRACK TWO

So the protagonist of A Different Man, Edward, has a leak in his apartment ceiling. He’s too embarrassed to have someone come by and fix it. The hole gets worse. Eventually, a piece of rotten wood falls free, into Edward’s face, and takes a chunk with it. The wound heals miraculously fast, because he is on a drug that will cure his neurofibromatosis.

When Edward goes to the doctor, he explains that the whole “chunks of face falling off” thing is kind of scary. The doctor dismisses him. He goes home. He spends a sweaty, bloody week literally clawing his face off, revealing him to be Sebastian Stan. 

Once that’s done with, he calls someone to fix the hole. He denies being the man — Edward — who lives in the apartment. He goes out and gets a blowjob in the bathroom of a seedy bar. He changes his name and gets into real estate. Edward was an actor.

Not a particularly good one, it’s worth noting.

I’ve kind of painted myself into a corner here, because I’ve read a fair bit about director Aaron Schimbergm’s motivations with this movie, and because I feel that in some real ways it’s dangerous to put A Different Man and The Substance too close together, and I don’t know the point where (over?)sympathizing with the experience of living with a physical disability becomes patronizing. But seeing A Different Man called shocking was, for me, a bit like seeing Parasite shocking. Which is to say, I wasn’t shocked, because the feel of it was too real. The anonymous Guy was cured, and, in denying Edward, lost himself in a real way he can’t reclaim. And for what? Adam Pearson’s Oswald is loved, and talented, and confident, and appreciated, and Guy is still Edward in all the shitty little ways, too.

Schimberg is pretty clear about the treatment being for medical motivations, driven by the medical team, over aesthetic purposes, both in interviews and within the film. Edward has had countless surgeries to address his condition, and it affects his vision, his hearing. Schimberg himself has a cleft palate and had dozens of surgeries related to it that, as a child, he just had to watch happen through a mirror. There’s a steady theme in the movie about #OwnVoices, which I understand to be Schimberg responding, in part, to the response to his last movie, and Pearson’s role in it. Once again, there’s the obvious side to it, that representation and diverse creative expression are desperately necessary, but also the flipside of it: the discourse, the cannibalization, the alienation within the question of Is this still yours?, then back home to What are you without it? Does it even matter?, and the answer, the fierce defensiveness within Yes, it matters, it’s me, still, always.

INTERSECTION

In I Saw The TV Glow, which is just about the most painful coming out allegory I’ve ever experienced in my life, a character monologues about asking to be buried alive, trying to convince another character, Owen, to join her:

I counted to 10,000 without skipping any numbers. I pissed and I shit my pants, and I forced my mouth to produce whatever saliva it could muster just so I would have something to drink. 

— and I think, the script I found doesn’t show it, but I’m pretty sure the character looks into the camera and says, “And that was part of it.” — 

I screamed as loud as I could for help. I apologized for the whole thing. And I begged God for someone to come along and save me. I tried and tried to claw my way out, but that burnout guy had packed the dirt in too tight, just like I had asked him to do. And then, after I don’t know how long, I felt myself start to leave myself. … 

And then I was clawing my way up out of the ground. And then I was at the surface, gasping for air, rain pouring down on me. Thunder and lightning. And I was finally back there. Back at our old sleepaway camp. And just like I was waking up from a bad dream, that whole life… that whole reality where I was Maddy Wilson… drifted away. Like a brief hallucination that, after a few moments, I could hardly even remember. And all those memories that had felt so real washed away with the rain back at our old sleepaway camp. And I was me. I was finally me again.

Whatever it is that I feel, I do not believe that the human body is a sacred temple that should not be tampered with and for which a perfect form exists. Change, by choice or force or nature, is inevitable, and beautiful, and natural, and also terrifying.

In the great trans health text that is Youtube, there are countless, countless hours of postsurgery content. Incisions, swelling, draining, bruising, stitching, scarring, all carefully documented for the usual reasons, and so that the next person goes in slightly less blind. 

There was also this nonbinary person I watched once who was transitioning while on a low dose of T, and I can’t remember what exactly they were talking about, their voice or their facial hair, but they were saying, “Well, do I actually dislike it, or do I just feel vulnerable, having other people see it?” and I was just like, aw, shit.

I’m not, like, unaware that the changes I’ve committed to in the last year or ten have by and large been socially demanded of me, and they have done very little to make me happier. I have been slapped pretty viciously back into place for trying for better. I do get caught between the idea that, well, this is adulthood, and a certainty that something has gone very, very, very wrong, and I carry it with me everywhere I go, and everyone can always see it, and that’s why things are the way they are.

And I don’t really want to be bullshitted, you know? Elizabeth’s problem was that she got old. That’s real. There’s a lot of real shit that goes into living in a body like mine. And more than anything I just don’t want to deal with that bullshit.

… But is that true? There are parts of me that I would be horrified to lose, not because I draw from some deep well of self-worth but because it’s me; you cannot tell me my eyes would be better by any meaning of word if they were blue.

But the other stuff. Oh, the other stuff.

If I got The Substance’d up, what would crawl out of my back? A better version of myself, according to who? To what? What performance would be required of them? 

So a problem I have with gender hypotheticals along the lines of If you woke up like— or Would you press a button that— is that I am petrified by the concept of actual change, and my actual flesh body feels really dicey subject to gamble on. Do I want my voice and my hair and my skin and my muscle and my fat and my face to be different? Do I want to look someone in the eye and introduce myself different, and have them look at me different?

I just want to feel better.

And, besides, that’s all rhetorical, because I���m not transitioning, I’m losing what could be called a significant amount of weight. Which, again I don’t even know how to talk about. I’m not really proud of it. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it started the second I got my head back above the poverty line and away from my last living situation. I don’t care to imbed the idea in another person’s head that it is a good and necessary process, especially in the hows and whys of how I’m going about it. I spend many hours of most days hungry, and semi-frequently Google What is my body doing? only for Google to say You might be malnourished, to which I close the tab and try to remember to drink more water and take my multivitamin. I don't know how to say this without romanticizing ~the struggle~ or minimizing its impact, the effort, why it's not as easy as people thing. All I want is better.

Semi-frequently, when people talk about their weight loss, they talk about how their self esteem is still shit, or that they hate how people treat now, actually, compared to before, or they feel numb, depressed, hollow. And people will respond, but the health benefits, which, yeah, of course, and it takes time for your brain to catch up to the progress you’ve made, and, also, it’s grief, of who you were, who you had to be.

I catch myself being nostalgic for times and places that tore me apart all the time. All the time. But they’re gone, now, choices already made, doors already shut, so of course they still feel safer.

So there’s the reality, right, of that double consciousness of people very much do look at you all the time and instantly make decisions about your value and abilities. But there is also very much the point where reasonable defense crystalizes into shame, and, well.

A thing in all of these movies is that, for as dramatic as every change is, there remains a steady, unmovable constant that you are still you, and no amount of sleepwalking denial or radical transformation or miracle cures can touch that, and trying to deny yourself can be absolutely fatal. Elizabeth got a very pointed warning from another user of The Substance, before she continued barreling towards her finale: “It gets harder each time to remember that you still deserve to exist. That this part of yourself is still worth something. That you still matter. Has she started yet? Eating away at you?”

She had, of course, and, god, yes, okay, you caught me, THE CINEMA and ASK POLLY of THE CUT, I am so fucking ashamed of existing, unfinished and imperfect and hurting and so unsure of everything, and I don’t want anyone to perceive me until I’ve accurately rendered myself a product I can be proud of, and it all sucks so fucking bad, and I have no clue what I'm supposed to do different at this point.

SO THIS IS A MOVIE REVIEW?

… Huh? Right. Right right right. 

PROS: Thank god these were movies for adults and not Dove commercials, because oh my god. Like I said up top, thank god for genre, because what better than horror and comedy to really crack open a few ribs and not judge a single soul for it. 

CONS: The Substance should have been ten minutes shorter. Not a lot shorter, but just enough to light a fire under the editor’s ass to get shit done a little tighter. A Different Man’s last little movement was pretty, like, whatever. Kind of familiar, honestly, because I also frequently know a few more scenes past what should be the final scene of a story, but sometimes you really have already said what everything you need to say. 

CONCLUSION: Very different movies, both crafted very well.

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend 

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33

authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3

Part one: breakup and new beginnings 

Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more. 

Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million. 

By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything. 

Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it. 

Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends. 

-

“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here. 

“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two. 

“You’re right.” 

“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier. 

“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…” 

Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen. 

“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy. 

“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes. 

“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.” 

“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you. 

“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly. 

“Hm..Well I give it a week.” 

-

After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences. 

The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off. 

“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up. 

You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had. 

A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you. 

“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures. 

“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face. 

“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly. 

“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman. 

“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.” 

“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces. 

“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling. 

“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out. 

“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone. 

“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up. 

“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off. 

“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug. 

“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up. 

“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt. 

The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out. 

-

Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy. 

Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;) 

The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back. 

While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest. 

Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)

Thank you for reading <3

part two

[c0llisiion]

NEED TO KNOW — j.jk

★Pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader

★genre: smut

★: older!jk, dads bestfriend!jk , oral (giving and receiving ) , unprotected sex , reader has a crush on jk, bachelor!jk, big dick jk, size kink kinda, hair pulling, gagging, slapping, pervert jk , dry humping , anal play , degradation, name calling, nicknames - lmk if i missed any!

★W/C: 4,395

A/N: remember that time I mentioned a jk fic that i was writing? This is that fic. Literally put this on hold for 2 months and finished writing it last night 😭 anyways enjoy!!

.02 <3

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“But i dont wannnnaaaaa goooooo!..” you whined as you declined your dad’s offer to go to his big company party. “Sweetheart this is a huge deal for me …” your dad countered. “… more over, mr.jeon is going to be there ..!” Your ears perked up at the mention of Mr. Jeon. The tall, tatted bachelor with his piercings and built body, who has been your dad’s best friend since his college days.

Since you were a teenager, you have had the biggest crush on him. He was perfect in every way. He was older. More wiser. Handsome. Just your type. The initial infatuation was small, but as you grew into your adult years, it grew stronger.

You were starting to dream about him. Not even the usual kind. Wet dreams.

He grew older like fine wine. Body covered in beautiful art. Built like an actual Greek god.

Surprisingly, he was not yet married, even though he was well off in his late 40s. He used to say 'no woman has ever caught my attention' when someone mentioned him still being single at his age—from what you've heard.

Your dad and him, being business partners, frequently bring him to your home. Always hanging out at the bar or in your dad’s study. You capitalized on these small visits and began attempting to attract his attention. Whenever he came over, you started hanging out at the bar. Offering to make him special drinks. Talking about his interests , which you found out through intense stalking just to impress him. wearing revealing clothes, buying him his favorite food and snacks whenever you visit his office to pick up something for your father. You got very close to him. Your obsession with him became stronger because he seemed so nonchalant about your little tactics. The worst thing you have ever done was hire someone to break off one of his relationships. Only you were meant for him. No one else.

Hearing your father say that he would be there was another opportunity to impress him. You shot up. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS BEFORE???” You say as you rummage into your closet for the perfect dress. Your father believed that your attraction to Jungkook was innocent and similar to that of a child. You had always said you hated the smell of alcohol, so he thought it was strange for you to start hanging out at the bar. Despite noticing many changes, he dismissed them as 'innocence', so he expected you to join him if he mentioned Jungkook. He left your room with a satisfied smile on his lips. You finally found the dress. A satin spaghetti strap dress in black, his favorite color, with a dangerously low open back. The dress was revealing when you put it on; the side of your boob was peeking out, but it hugged your curves perfectly. As the time got closer, you finished up spraying on your most expensive perfume, taking a final look at yourself before leaving.

The party was classy. A huge venue with what appeared to be millions of waiters with champagne. Upon entering the venue with your family, your eyes immediately searched for Jungkook. It wasn't long before you spotted him in the middle of a small group. He seemed to notice your family and hurried towards all of you without delay. As he got closer, your heart was beating fast. “Hey hey! My man!” He said taking your dad into a tight hug. “You could have come a bit more later!” He said sarcastically, taking a jab at your dad’s late-coming habit. “Don't blame me! This one took too long!” Your dad exclaimed, hugging you by your side. Jungkook’s eyes landed on you. He stared you down. Taking in each and every curve, his eyes eventually landed on your chest before he looked at your face and smiled. “So glad you came! You look gorgeous tonight.” He said, taking in your hand and kissing the back of your palm slowly, in a sensual way, while deeply staring into your eyes. He pulled away and rubbed the skin with his thumb before giving you a smirk. You felt your insides melt and your brain malfunction at his simple gesture. You were frozen in place and didn’t know what to do. You shyly backed away and looked down , trying to hide your wide smile with your bangs, which Jungkook took notes on.

Time flew by as you watched Jungkook speak in front of the huge crowd with charisma and confidence. One of his best traits. He always caught everyone’s attention with his choice of words and tone. It was embarrassing for you to admit that, but it turned you on. Your legs were crossed, rubbing your thighs together from time to time, and no one seemed to notice, except for Jungkook, of course. He eyed you every time you made a small movement.

All the speeches and boring talks concluded, which made you run out onto the balcony for some fresh air. You stared off into the distance, thinking about what Jungkook had done to you earlier. Was it platonic? Was he just being nice? Does he have feeli- “did all those old men bore you out?” Jungkook was behind you. His voice husky. His lip and eyebrow piercing, shining under the moonlight. You were caught off guard and turned around to see ‘your man', “mr.jeon! Ugh you scared me!” You said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. He gets closer with a charming smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you!” He let out a soft chuckle. “How is your night going?” He asked you. “Hm? Oh good i guess, it’s kinda boring, but i would do anything for my father..” He chuckled and gave you a side eye. “For your father? Really?” it seemed like he knew the real reason why you were here in the first place. “Wdym really? I love my dad!” You said in a playful, offended tone.  He chuckled once again. “Fine fine! I know how much you adore him.” You sighed softly and smiled.

“I like that dress on you. It suits you a lot.”  He said while eyeing you. You blushed at his compliment, looking down and fiddling with your acrylic nails. “Thank you..” you mumbled under your breath. You feel him getting closer to you. “Sorry? I didn’t hear you,  sweetheart.” His hands were on your hips, squeezing them softly. You froze in place. Heart beating faster. Your legs threatening to fall. His hands creeped towards your ass. Groping it softly, not wanting to seem too pushy. “Mr.jeon…-“ you let out a shaky whimper at his touch. “It’s jungkook for you, doll.” He said leaning in closer to your ears. He took a huge sniff of your neck and hair. “Thierry mugler alien eau de parfum? You have good taste.” He said while softly chuckling in your ears before pulling away. He lifted your chin so you can look at him. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you stared into his intoxicating eyes. “What did you want to say earlier?” You gulped before speaking up. “Thank you… jungkook.” He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. His hands went under your ears, caressing the soft skin gently. Your eyes widened, and you just stood there. “I’ll see you around okay?” He said smiling before he left. You were standing put, like a statue, your limbs refusing to move. 

A few days went by, and you were still processing whatever happened with jungkook that night. His kiss. The way his hands caressed your body. His little nicknames. It was just too much to process. You didn’t see or hear much from jungkook since that day. There were small interactions, but he seemed to ignore you each time. You were starting to get worried. What happened? What did you do wrong? Did you fuck up? Does he hate you?. You never stopped overthinking.

One morning, you heard the familiar voice of Jungkook from the kitchen, laughing and giggling with your father. You quickly put on your clothes and dolled up, still hoping to impress him, before you went downstairs. “Ah! She’s finally awake! We were just talking about you!” Your father exclaimed. You observed jungkook as he sat on the kitchen island and ate what appeared to be lucky charms. His favorite cereal. He glanced at you briefly before turning away. You felt your heart shatter. After all that he did? Is this the way he treats you? . You walked past him and got yourself a glass of orange juice. “Did you sleepwell princess?” Your father inquired. Jungkook was still not looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the newspaper in front of him. “Yeah yeah i did.” You said putting on a fake smile. “Oh!” Your father exclaimed as he heard his phone ring. “Excuse me.” He said before rushing out of the kitchen.

You glared at jungkook and gulped down your orange juice before dropping the glass onto the table. Jungkook noticed your action, which made him put his newspaper aside and walk towards you. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning onto the island. “Hmph!” You huffed, turning around. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come onnn! Tell me.” He said while hugging your waist from the back. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back around. “What did I do wrong? Why do you keep doing this to me?” You asked. “Doing what?” “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know?” You said folding your arms. Jungkook had a confused look on his face. “You are ignoring me damn it!” “Ohhhhh! About that! I just didn’t have anything to say.” He said shrugging. You rolled your eyes at him. “Admit it, Jungkook, you just want to play with my feelings. You don’t care about me. You never did.” You let it all out. It was weird for you to act like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkooks eyes darkened, and he stared at you. You gulp.  “You think I don’t care about you? Me? Not caring about you? You think i come to your house almost every other day for your father?” He said while pushing you down onto the island. He turned you around and hugged you close to his body; you could feel his clothed hard dick on your pussy. You shudder when he slowly grinds his hips into your behind. “Ya feel that doll? Thats how you got me everyday..” he said whispering into your ears. His free hand found your right tit before he gave it a squeeze. Tugging the thin white fabric of your crop top down to expose your hardened nipple. You hear him darkly chuckle in your ear before giving the sensitive bud a squeeze. His hips never seemed to stop as he continued dry-humping you. You felt yourself involuntarily lowering yourself on the island, pushing your ass back into him for more stimulation. He immediately pulls away, leaving you weak and clenching around absolutely nothing. You whined, turning around to face him with pleading eyes. “What?” He scoffed at how desperate you were. He got closer and fixed your shirt. He didn’t say anything and just rubbed your shoulders down before walking away. 

A while later, you were napping in your bedroom. It was not uncommon for you to take naps in between the day since you were basically unemployed and didn’t have much to do, and you also needed one after what happened with jungkook.

All the blinds were shut, leaving the room completely dark. It was silent; the only sound that was heard was the faint noise of the air conditioner. You were in deep sleep and didn’t notice or hear Jungkook entering your room. You felt the bed sink next to you before you felt a cold hand on your hip. His hands, kneading the soft flesh of your ass before it grazed around your desperate cunt. You whine when you feel his fingers touch and draw circles on your sensitive part. “Shh..” he shushed you before pressing onto your pussy. He chuckles at how quickly you got wet. Your mouth was agape, soft grunts escaping every second. He slowly pushed you onto your stomach, climbing on top of you before pulling your pink panties to the side.

It was dark, and he couldn’t see much, but he could feel how soaked you were. He spread your cheeks and lowered his mouth down onto your cunt, sucking on it. Your eyes shot open, heavy breathing as you turned around to see the man of your dreams eat you out from behind. “Ju-jungkook..?” He shut you up by lapping his tongue over your dripping cunt. You let out a loud moan, your head falling sideways, already drooling even though he barely started. He lifted your ass up using his strong hands, making you arch your back. He dropped his head lower and started sucking on your clit, his big nose pressing into your soaking pussy. You grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pushed him closer. He hummed into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Loud slurping and squelching sounds, along with his groans and your moans, echoed throughout the room. You were seeing stars. The way his mouth ate you out and the feeling of his cold lip ring on your pussy were beyond comprehensible. Your heart started beating faster as you felt your body warm up, and a knot formed in your abdomen. Jungkook took notes on your body language and pulled away. You cried out when you lost contact.

He leaned in and switched on one of your bed lights, finally giving the room some light. He observed your body. Your ass was still up, your pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal. It was clenching and unclenching around nothing. He let out a scoff before turning you around. Your face already looked fucked out. Tears painted your cheeks, and drool was all over your mouth. He hovered over you, placing a hand on the headboard. He used his other hand to wipe your face clean. “We have gotten ourselves a good hour; better make this quick, alright?” You nodded softly and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a soft and tender kiss. He kissed you back and hugged you closely to his body. His hands went under your tee, squeezing your tit. You whined into the kiss. “You are so sensitive, sweetheart…” he mumbled. You break off the kiss and cup his face. “Jungkook… want more..” He tilted his head to the side and stared at you. He put on a smirk before standing at the foot of the bed.

He took off his pullover, revealing his tatted arms and toned abs and pecs. The soft bed light that was illuminating the room was able to capture every detail of his body. You stare. Hand in between your legs, squeezed shut. You bit your lip softly before your eyes met his. He gestured for you to come closer, which made you crawl to him. Your face was now right in front of his hard dick. You could see the bulge growing. His hand went behind your head, grasping your hair gently. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, which instantly made him fold, but he kept his composure. He gave you a nod, pushing your head closer to his crotch. Your nose nudged the bulge before your greedy fingers hastily unzipped his pants. Your eyes widened when his cock sprung out and hit his stomach. He was big. Girthy. The tip was red, and you could see his precum peaking from the slit. Without wasting time, you took a stripe from the base of his dick until the tip before you sucked on it. He hissed at the feeling of your plump lips sucking on his sensitive tip. He was starting to get impatient and pushed your head down, filling your mouth even though he was only half way in. You looked at him with teary eyes as you choked around his girth. He almost lost it when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours. His other hand caressed your cheek, pushing himself further down your throat. You could feel him. Your jaws were hurting, and you grabbed onto his hips for stability. Your throat spasmed around his cock. He noticed how you were kinda struggling. “Better make me feel good, okay? I want that throat to show me what it got.” With that, he started thrusting into your mouth. You started choking and gagging around his length, which just turned him on even more.

He yanked your head off of his cock. A string of pre cum and saliva connected your lips and his cock head. You looked up at him and whined, wanting his dick to stuff your mouth again. He bent down to your level before licking your chin clean, swallowing the mixture before speaking to you. “On your knees and hands, baby girl." You obliged immediately, taking off your flimsy tee before throwing your ass in the air and arching your back for him. You felt the bed dip behind you, and jungkooks long dick landed on your ass, slowly grinding through the sheer panties.His wet cock making it translucent. You whimpered, already feeling yourself getting hotter. “You are such a dumbslut.” He lowly chuckled.

“You think it wasn’t obvious?” He removed your skirt and ripped your panties. You gasp at his sudden action. “All these skimpy skirts and tops.. and just when I'm around? Were you that desperate, princess ?” He said while pushing his cockhead into your sopping hole.

You let out a loud moan; his tip was enough to stretch you out. “Not gonna lie… i was very flattered” gripping your ass cheeks as he slowly pushed further, letting you adjust to his size. He continued. “I only kept my cool because you were my best friend's daughter, but—holy shit-“ he gets cut off as you clench around his length, tears already dripping down your face. Your mind fogging up. You were constantly letting out soft moans and whimpers as he slowly bottomed down into you. “Woah there-“ he chuckled. “im not even half way in sweetheart” he said while grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. You looked at him with teary eyes. Lips quivering. He smirked before kissing your cheek. He let go of your hair and pushed your head down into the pillow using his hand. The other hand was on your hip as he finally pushed all the way in. “Since you are begging for it— ” you let out a loud scream as he filled you to the brim.

Although it was painful, the pleasure made you forget about the pain. you felt warm spit fall on your pussy as he starts moving. “Gon’ fuck you silly, alright? Isn’t that what you wanted? Getting dicked down by your father's friend? What a whore…” You nodded incoherently. A loud cry left your lips as his hips thrust into you harshly. His pace was slow, but the way he thrust in was so... Your body was moving forward with every thrust. Sounds of wet skin slapping echoed through your room. You were not able to focus on anything. His pace increased, and so did the harshness of his thrust. You clenched around him, making him fall forward. He caged your tiny body under his larger one. “Fuck babygirl.. you are gonna rip my dick off..” he chuckled. “Jungk-kook… feels too good…” you managed to blabber out as he fucked into you like a madman. “Yeah? you like that? You liked getting fucked by older men, dont you sweatheart?” You whined as his large hands gripped your hair.

This was wrong. Very wrong. This man has seen you grow up. He has been there since you were a baby.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds…” he said while landing a tight slap on your ass, reddening the area almost immediately. You gasped and whimpered, letting out a loud pornographic moan as Jungkook hit a specific spot. His other hand found your swollen clit and started drawing rough circles on it. Pinching and tugging the abused nub. Your legs trembled, and your moans got louder. “F-fuck! Jungkook…don’t s-stop! Feels so good!” You babbled. Jungkooks eyes were focused on your pussy. The way you took in his length. Your milky white cream coated his entire length, collecting at the base of his cock.

He stopped thrusting in you for a moment. You whined as you felt him suddenly stop. Jungkook smirked before leaning over and whispering in your ears. “Fuck yourself on me, doll.” You cried in defeat. Jungkook placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to start moving. You gulped before slowly rocking your body forward and backward. You could feel his every inch penetrating the insides of your gummy walls. His large tip hitting your cervix over and over again. “Thats all you can do? Wow.. so pathetic..” he scoffed. You shook your head furiously and started going faster. Jungkook let out a satisfied groan as he watched your ass ripple. “Play with that little clit of yours.” He commanded. You reached down in between your legs, finding the sensitive nub almost immediately. You slowly rubbed your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned out as the stimulation of your pussy and clit was getting overwhelming. You fucked yourself faster on his cock. Mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes crossed as his cock hit your gspot every time you moved in and out. Jungkook was in a different world. His eyebrows were furrowed, and sweat dripped down his neck. He was close to cumming just by seeing you fuck yourself on him.

His hands spread your ass cheeks, before a glob of spit landed on your asshole. You shuddered and panicked, stopping for a moment. “J-jungko-?” “Just focus on fucking yourself; everything is going to be alright…” he reassured you. You nodded before going back. His long fingers toyed with your rim. You grunt when you feel his fingers prod into your asshole. “Shh- shh.. youre safe .. jus’ wan’ try something new..” You gulped and shut your eyes tightly as his fingers ventured further into your asshole. He shoved three of his fingers into you, making you moan out loud. “Fuckkkkk- so tight…” he whispered. You melt and crumble when you feel his fingers move inside of you. You buried your head in your pillow, muffling out any unholy noise.

Your pussy and asshole clenched around his fingers and dick, making him groan. “So damn sensitive… has any guy fucked you, this good princess?” You shake your head. “N-no sir …” Jungkook shot up at the name. His fingers increasing in speed. You let out choked-out moans and cries as his fingers curled inside your asshole. “Say that again, will ya?” His other hand found your hips and started stretching your pussy out again. “Please.. f-fuck me harder… sir.” That was all it took to make Jungkook go feral. His cock left your pussy and was immediately shoved inside your sensitive ass. Your eyes shot out, and you couldn’t make any noise as you looked back at jungkook with tears rolling down your cheeks. He pinned your wrists behind your back before moving in and out. He struggled, initially. curse him for not stretching you out more, but his cream-coated cock provided enough lube for him to start pounding into you smoothly. “Shits so fucking tight- gah-“ your lips quivered and legs trembled as Jungkook fucked into you with great strength.

You screamed out, finally getting your voice back after he fully plunged his cock into you. Your cunt was leaking arousal, dripping down your thighs. Jungkook didnt seem to stop. His heavy, cum-filled balls were slapping against your pussy. “Jungkoook…- its too- too much!” You cried out. “Take it. You are a big girl. Take it like a big girl. I know you fucking can. Look at your little ass sucking me in. So good. So fucking good.” He pulled your body back and pounded into you. Your face was a mess. You cried and moaned like a bitch in heat every time he filled you to the brim. You felt your orgasm approaching as the feeling of the familiar knot in your stomach began growing. “Jung-jungkook- gon’ cum…” you whined. “Go on princess… be a good girl and cum all over me..” you nodded weakly, focusing on reaching your high. Jungkook flipped you over, laying you down on your back. His hands pushed your legs up against your chest. You were in ecstasy as the new position had you seeing stars. You observed Jungkook's sweaty body and fucked-out face.

A slap was landed on your glistening, sopping pussy before two fingers were shoved inside them. His thumb stimulating your clit. “Ngh- oh fuck- jungkook m’ so close…!” Your eyebrows were knit together, and sweat dripped down your face. The overstimulation getting too intense. Both his hips and hands increased their pace, determined to help you reach your high. You saw white as Jungkook pressed down on your sensitive bud. Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy and landed on his abdomen. You screamed as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Yeah.. just like that.. so dirty.. you are such a dirty little girl..” Jungkook's movements got sloppier. Your orgasm turned him on by a mile, and he was close to cumming himself. You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, not noticing that he had slipped out of you and was furiously jerking himself off. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out all over your body. Coating your stomach and your boobs. You moan as you feel his hot cum land on your body, taking the mixture in your shaky fingers and licking it off while staring into his eyes. Jungkook smirked at you with half-lidded eyes.

“My dirty little girl."

A/N: HEHE THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGG! how was it tho? This would have been a stepcest fic but i changed my mind in the middle 🙁💔 im currently writing fics from my inbox! You can send in your rqs <3

[lecsainz]

A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please

˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER

parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader

an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!

summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.

Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.

You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.

"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.

Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.

According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.

After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.

"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.

Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.

During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.

It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.

"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.

After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.

Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.

"Touch her, and you'll be dead."

You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.

"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."

You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 4

Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words

A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)

All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.

The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up. 

There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.

This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.

How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.

You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.

Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”

Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”

“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.

“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”

You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”

"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"

“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”

And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.

How could you be upset about that?

"I'm not... mad.”

There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"

You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."

“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you? 

"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.

"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”

Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.

Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.

"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.

“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”

"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”

“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”

“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”

Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”

“And?”

You rolled onto your side. “And what?”

“Do you not miss my absence at work?”

“Well…”

“Well?” He prompted.

Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.

Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.

There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”

“…like what?”

“Like you’re out of breath.”

You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.

It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”

“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”

You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”

“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”

You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”

“In every way?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”

“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”

“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”

“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”

“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”

"I don't understand."

At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.

“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”

You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

"I find precise communication to be very important.”

You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”

His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"

"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”

You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.

He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."

You could, but you’d rather not.

"I didn't want to sound desperate."

"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.

“Tell me, what do you want now?”

You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.

“I want… you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”

“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.

Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.

Your hand began to move.

“I… I want your hands on me.”

“Where do you want my hands?”

“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.

“Everywhere?”

You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“On my hips…”

Your hand danced across your hips.

“My stomach…”

Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.

“Between my thighs…”

You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.

“Where else do you want me?”

Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.  Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I…”

“Are you?”

“No…”

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”

“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”

"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”

There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.

“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.

“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”

You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”

“Describe it to me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”

And you wished he was the one touching you.

You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.

Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”

You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.

“Better?”

You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”

“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”

His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.

“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"

"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.

“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”

You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.

The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”

"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”

You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.

Yet look at how much effect he had on you.

"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."

"In a good way, I hope?"

“Very good,” you assured him.

You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”

You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.

"How does that feel?"

"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.

“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”

You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.

“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”

“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”

You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.

“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”

You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.

“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”

You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.

“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”

Your breaths came in short gasps.

“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”

Your legs fell further apart.

“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”

How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.

“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”

You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.

“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”

You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”

Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.

“Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”

You hummed a reply.

“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”

A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.

“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”

You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”

“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.

“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”

“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.

“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”

You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”

And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”

You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”

“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.

Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”

You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”

You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”

Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.

"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”

With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”

The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.

Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.

“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”

A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"

You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”

"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"

You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”

“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”

You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”

Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Well, yes, but now it's… different."

You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"

"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."

A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”

“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”

“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”

He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”

“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“But if you insist…”

You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”

“Wait—You’re hanging up?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”

He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”

And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.

But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.

It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.

“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.

You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.

“How do I turn this into video call again?”

[purinfelix]

lost and found ✮⋆˙ - franco colapinto

pairing: reader x franco colapinto summary: when you find a curly-haired rookie lost in the wrong garage, you don't think much of it - that is, until he continues showing up, and you begin questioning his intentions w/c: 1.3k (wow jet writing an actual long-ish fic? you better believe it)

a/n: FIRST FRANCO FIC !!!! i've literally been having franco brainrot ever since azerbaijan so here you go (this is your sign to send in franco requests <3)

You spot him out of the corner of your eye nervously ducking out of the way of engineers and strategists, as you prepare for the race ahead. Considering that this is the Red Bull garage, his bright white fireproof sticks out like a sore thumb and when you turn to look at him, his own eyes widen in embarrassment - confirming your theory that he's lost. He's that newbie you've been hearing about, frank? or something, you don't really care to be honest, but he's in the wrong garage and even though he's not one of your drivers you're sure Williams is worried about where he is.

"Are you alright?" you say, and he stops his frantic looking around to look at you with flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, I'm-"

"In the wrong garage," you say flatly, trying your best to stay serious and hide how amused you are at this.

"Yes, I got that, I just can't figure out how to get back to mine," he laughs in a slightly offended tone.

You nod, feigning annoyance as you silently walk ahead and hope he knows to follow you. "Look kid, I don't know if this is your first time on a paddock but you can't really be wandering around other team's garages, even if you are lost. It kind of looks like you're spying on us or something and feeding information back to whoever you've reserve driving for."

His footsteps pause behind you. "Who are you calling Kid?" he scoffs, equal parts irritated and entertained.

"Huh? Well, how old are you? You don't look older than 19."

"I'm 21, thank you very much," he spits out, crossing his arms with a smug look, "and how old are you?"

You pause, awkwardly looking around, "20, but it's clear I have a lot more experience in this than you do." You huff and spin back around, trying to ignore the fact you can hear him stifling laughter.

As you finally make it back to the Williams garage, you open the door and let him in through it, but before he does he pauses to turn you.

"Thank you-" he says, pausing for you to give him your name, and even though you're reluctant to give him the opportunity to spread the news about this embarrassing encounter, you do anyways. Something about the way he looks at you, eyes expecting and a smile toying at his lips, you feel strangely like you'd do about anything he asked.

"And you are?"

"Franco," he says, with an earnest smile, almost as if he's enjoying this situation more knowing how awkward you feel. "I'd wish you good luck, but I doubt you guys will need it," is the last thing he says before he disappears back into his own garage.

And even though you feel a little flustered about the entire situation, you shake it off and head back to your own area, determined not to let it get the best of you - not now, not before a race. You don't even think of him again, besides an occasional glance up when you hear his name said by a commentator, or when you spot his car coming into the pit lane, but that's nothing outside the realm of your duties as a mechanic. You really couldn't care less about him, you tell yourself, and you feel as though you'd be perfectly fine never crossing paths with him again.

But he doesn't seem to share the same idea, because the minute the race is over and you're turning to join the rest of the team out near the podium, you spot him lingering near the door of your garage once more.

"Lost again?" you say as you walk up to him, trying your best to keep as straight a face as you can.

"Not anymore," he replies once he sees you, a reassured smile on his face, "did you see how I did?"

Two feelings wash through you simultaneously - one rational, one asking who the hell this guy is and why the hell he thinks you'd be watching him instead of the very team you work for, and the other a sense of embarrassment, because as much as it pained you to admit, you had been watching him.

"8th?" is all you say in response - not wanting to give too much away about how you felt.

"Yeah, my first points!"

"Well, it's hardly a podium," you scoff, eager not to inflate his ego - after all, he was older than you and surely didn't need to be treated like a preschooler with gold stars. But the minute the words leave your mouth, you watch his excited expression change until slowly he dons a look of embarrassment. Your heart twists and you're suddenly reminded that for whatever reason, instead of celebrating with his team, his family, the girlfriend - which you were sure he had - he had come here, to tell you - someone he had met for the first time mere hours ago.

"Sorry, that was rude, congra-" you begin.

"Is that a challenge?" His voice is low, and it hits you unexpectedly.

"Pardon?"

"Are you challenging me, to get a podium? I mean, I'm still a rookie but I guess if I had a good enough motivator I could do it."

You're caught in a dilemma again, why on earth would you be motivating a different team's driver to do well? If anything, you should be doing the opposite, you had the opportunity to do something for the sake of your team right in front of you - albeit something definitely against FIA ruling - but for some strange reason you couldn't bring yourself to take it, instead playing into his game further.

"And what kind of motivator are we talking about here Franco," you pause to watch him smirk at the sound of his own name, "if you're after secret team intel I can't help you there but if you want, let's say, to know where to get the best coffee on paddock or-"

"How about your number?"

"Wh- Huh?"

"Your number? How about if I get a podium, you give me your number."

He says it so plainly as if it's a simple conclusion, and yet you're speechless. As you stand there silently taking in what he's just said you're equally aware of the fact that he's watching you, which only makes you more flustered.

"What for?" is all you manage to get out, and even though you know it's a stupid question, you want to be sure.

"Oh c'mon, you're a mechanic, surely you can't be that clueless."

"Right," you nod, looking down at your feet shyly and after a moment of silence his concerned voice pipes up again.

"I mean, I know we basically just met, and I know how ridiculous this is, so if you really don't want to I'm not going to force you into anything. You see, I'm really not that kind of guy, I'm actually really a gentleman and usually I'd-"

"Alright," you say definitively, cutting off his nervous rambling - which, if you're being honest, you can only just hear over the pounding sound of your own heart.

"Wh- really?" he asks in disbelief, even though he's the one who proposed the bet.

"Sure, if you can get a podium before the end of this race season, I'll give you my number."

Just at that moment, you hear the rest of your team filing back into the garage to pack up, as well as the distant sound of someone calling for Franco. You look up, partially to silently tell him that the two of you needed to be wrapping up soon, but mostly to watch his face turn from shock to a proud smile as he nods eagerly.

"Okay, yes, sure!" he says sort of breathlessly, "well I guess I'll see you around then. Same time next week?"

You let out a low laugh at his joke, "Sure see you then, and good luck." You watch him turn to jog out of your garage, and as he turns the corner you can still see a beaming smile on his face as he goes - leaving you with the weight of realising just what the hell you've gotten yourself into.

[httpsserene]

can you do a smau if you want where the reader is a driver and makes music on the side (music like sza or Megan thee stallion and kaliii) and she makes a music video for area codes and all her other music and it has the drivers in it

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 (𝐟𝟏) - 𝐲𝐧. 𝟎

summary: you make hit songs when you’re not driving a formula one car. your fellow drivers love to feature in your music videos. content warning: driver!reader makes music. toxic internet culture. profanity. hateful comments. attempt at humor. fluffy. light angst ig. there's no specific face claim, just pretty black women! ex-haas driver, current aston martin driver!reader. reader is american. seb retires in 2021, fernando is on the grid just not with aston martin. nikita mazepin mention lol. lando norris and george russell get bullied (humor). light british slander. no plot just vibes. pairing: platonic f1 grid x fem!black!driver!reader genre: smau.

from serene: i have a disease and it's called "being unable to make a normal length smau." it's a sickness, idk if i'll ever be abl to fulfill a request without the plot running away from me. anyways, enjoy loves xxx

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

yn ln signs multi-year contract with aston martin • espn f1 • 2021 post-season

ESPN F1 yn ln has signed a multi-year contract with Aston Martin! The American driver completes the team’s lineup with Lance Stroll. Even though she was an F4, F3, and GP3 Champion, and she won the F2 Championship on her first try with Prema; her F1 career began with unexpected opportunities and last-minute substitutions—becoming a reserve driver for Haas and filling in for Romain Grosjean after his accident in 2020, and then replacing Nikita Mazepin halfway through the 2021 F1 season—an official seat of her own in Formula One was a long time coming and well deserved. Congratulations to yn ln, the first Black woman to race in Formula One!

instagram • yn0 • 2022 pre-season

liked by astonmartinf1, lewishamilton, maxverstappen, sza, and 3,451,967 others

yn0: i have always believed that being an f1 driver would become my reality. it was a never a dream to me because i KNEW i was going to make it here. i’m incredibly thankful to haas for giving my first chance to race in the big league and i will miss all the incredible people who helped me grow and improve while i was there. however, i am extremely grateful and excited to have a seat of my own at aston martin in 2022 and onward. some critics have called me "conceited" to bet on myself, so i made a song just for them < 3

tagged astonmartinf1

view comments

yn0 on sundays, we wear green 💚

➥ user1 you're an inspiration to all women in motorsport, especially women of color 💚💚💚

➥ user2 praying that your aston is quicker than your haas! prove the haters wrong 😤

astonmartinf1: we'll bet on you every race! can't wait to play this in the garage 💚

haasf1team: take care of our songbird 🥲

➥ haasf1team: and keep the tea and honey STOCKED for her vocal cords

➥ user3: i’m gonna cry :(

user4: yeah who paid for her seat? no way she got it off skill. she's never been above p12. f1 has changed for the worse now that a woman's out there. she's a hazard.

➥ user5: incel mindset 😒

➥ user6: bro she was in a haas. reaching p12 in that car is enough of an achievement. better than mazepin ever did, even with his daddy's money 🤷‍♂️

lewishamilton: LFG 💪🏽💪🏽💪🏽 can't wait to see you in the paddock

➥ yn0: lfgggggg 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

➥ yn0: i wouldn't be racing at all if i didn't see you do it first :)

sebastianvettel: prove them all wrong and never apologize for it.

➥ yn0: i learned from the best 🥹 happy retirement, seb!

mickschumacher: "no reason to make friends, i'm cool"??? is that line about somebody else or should i be worried 🤨

➥ maxverstappen: yeah let us know 🙄 your seat on the jet can be revoked

➥ yn0: bros...we all know who it's really about

➥ user8: you can say it's about mazepin nobody will be mad at that 🤗🤗🤗

landonorris: wish it was papaya, but i can't wait to see you in green!

➥ yn0: you know what?i think I CAN wait

➥ yn0: i'm actually going to quit f1 rn i think 😐

➥ user9: lando stop, get some help

lancestroll: hi teammate!

➥ yn0: hi teammate!

➥ user6: oh,,, this is awkward

charlesleclerc: finally 🙌🏻 i thought you would never drop this song

➥ yn0: the music is more important than my f1 seat to you 🙂

➥ charlesleclerc: encore encore encore 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

georgerussell: i would be happy for you if i didn't know this meant you'll be bullying me every race weekend

➥ alexalbon: she smells your fear which makes you an easy target

➥ alexalbon: CONGRATSSS 🥳🥳🥳🥳

➥ yn0: 🤭

instagram • yn0 • 2022

liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, megantheestallion, and 2,191,042 others

yn0: thee "cognac queen" learns how to celebrate their FIRST EVER f1 points in italy with their honorary prince 🇮🇹 im in my gacccc, i wanna danceeee, come get yo man, come getcho maaaannnnn 🍾🍾🍾

tagged charlesleclerc

view comments

user10: WOOOOOAH WHATS ABOUT TO PLAY 😳

➥ user11: she PUT IT ON HIM last night apparently 🫣

➥ user12: he calling her BACK TO BACK????

astonmartinf1: you only win first points once but you only have one liver. please show up to the paddock next week 🥴

➥ yn0: don't worry admin i'll be there bright and early!

➥ user13: drink responsibly kids alcohol poisoning is not fun

➥ user14: aston martin shouldn't stress. it sounds like charles took very good care of her 😏😏😏

user15: i feel like i shouldn't be allowed to watch that video (i'm 23)

➥ user16: they were having a tiiiiiiiiime out in italy 🫦

➥ user17: if she was all over me like she was on charles i would be asking about marriage. he's so much stronger than i am 🙂‍↔️

charlesleclerc: went courvoisier crazyyyy

➥ charlesleclerc: je suis très fière de toi (i'm very proud of you) ❤️

➥ yn0: thank you charlieee (for the mv too x) 😚

➥ user18: oh so she really got charles thinking that he's her man???

➥ user19: you were DOGGING it? i didn’t know charles had it in him 🐶🐶🐶

user20: ew this is gross. charles is in a happy relationship and we're all going to pretend like yn isn't a homewrecker???

➥ user21: i was waiting to see this comment! this is like proof she used her body to get on the grid 👀

mickschumacher: no way you put charles in a video before me...i thought we were locked in 😞

➥ yn0: mick be so for real. you hate cognac :(

➥ user22: mick said we suffered through haas together and you already forgot about me

landonorris: are you looking for a cognac king?

➥ alexalbon: boys point and laugh 🫵🏼🤣

➥ charlesleclerc: 🫵🏻🤣

➥ maxverstappen: 🫵🏻🤣

➥ georgerussell: 🫵🏻🤣

➥ mickschumacher: 🫵🏻🤣🤣🤣💀

➥ user23: 🫵🏾🤣

lewishamilton: xnda feature when you make it on the podium

➥ yn0: i'll be up there next week.

➥ user24: bring back xnda girl !!! for all of us 🙇🏽‍♀️

instagram • yn0 • 2022

liked by alexalbon, astonmartinf1, maxverstappen, sza, and 4,233,761 others

yn0: my girl is my girl, is your girl, heard that's his girl too...he's like 9 to 5, i'm "the weekend"

tagged alexalbon, lilymhe

view comments

astonmartinf1: highest race finish of your career can you drop a fire song to celebrate 🥵

➥ lancestroll: team karaoke when????

➥ yn0: make it happen and i will show out for y'all 💯

user25: this video was funny af! my favorite song from you so far 😁

➥ user26: yessss i was not expecting her to flip the song in the video like that 🤌🏻💋

➥ user27: the premise of her and alex fighting over lily was perfect 👌🏽

lilymhe: make me lose my mind every weekend 😮‍💨

➥ alexalbon: you take wednesday thurday 🧎🏼‍♂️‍➡️

➥ yn0: then just send her my wayyyyy 🤤

➥ user28: think i got it covered for the weekend 🎤🎶

landonorris: i'm available any day of the week with no other commitments blocking my schedule ☺️

➥ georgerussell: mate this is embarrasing

➥ mickschumacer: lando no wins & no rizz what a shame 😒

➥ user29: MICK CHILLLLL ⁉️⁉️

➥ user30: whatdidhedo to deserve that calm downnnn

➥ charlesleclerc: lando please just listen to the song like everybody else this is painful to see 😣

maxverstappen: you laced this song with something addictive

➥ schecoperez: i hear it on repeat through the wall he is not lying

➥ user31: yn ln gives you wings 🤪

user32: just because lily was in the video and yn made the focus of the song about her doesn't mean that the orginal song is okay? it's not like she stopped singing about being a side chick.

➥ user33: no, it literally IS okay. because lily and alex both said they made the song with her and were happy to be in the video 🙂

➥ user34: i don't know, lily agreeing to the video makes me dislike her

➥ user35: yeah this song was a miss not a good message at all

instagram • danica patrick • 2022

liked by 10,764 others

danicapatrick: “This past weekend the Aston Martin F1 crew celebrated yn’s P5 finish track side and, honestly, that was unnecessary. It’s not like she managed to reach the podium and personally, I feel like she doesn’t take F1 seriously. I mean, it seems like she spends more time making explicit songs than she does preparing for a race weekend. Her little songs are a distraction to the men on the grid and she appears as a promiscuous, immature, and unfocused girl. She’s not the formula one standard, in my opinion.”

I discuss yn ln’s career in the new episode of my podcast, Pretty Intense! Click the link in my bio to hear it all!

tagged prettyintensebydanica

view comments

user36: ms. patrick are you familiar with the idea of having a hobby 🤔

nicorosberg: how are you qualified to be an expert on sky sports?

user37: woman who's never raced in f1 gives her unsolicited opinion on the only black woman to race in f1 😂

user38: danica this screams jealousy girl

user39: nothing is worse than hearing a fellow girl hate like a man smh

user40: "her little songs" disrespectful as hell don't forget one of them charted on billboard's top 10 😤

user41: SHE GOT P5 IN AN ASTON MARTIN how is that not taking f1 seriously????

user42: if her songs were a distraction to the men on the grid aren't they the ones who should be described as unfocused🤫

➥ user42: anyways, yn would be doing us a favor. maybe max wouldn't win as many races if that were the case

instagram • yn0 • 2022 post-season

liked by dominicfike, keithpowers, tchalamet, summerwalker, and 7,988,531 others

yn0: "girls need love," too.

view comments

user43: OH MY GOD the drought is over 😭😭😭

➥ user44: i thought we'd never get another song after the hate she was getting for it 😫

michaelbjordan: are you interested in a private studio session?

➥ landonorris: she don't want u lil bro 🤣

➥ user45: yn's pulling with three photo's and a song,,,teach me your ways

astonmartinf1: the spine tattoo 😍 good choice to get it during the off-season 💚

➥ user46: i misjudged you aston... i thought y'all told her to stop making music glad to see the support is still there :)

mickschumacher: let’s go get some gelato?

➥ yn0: as long as you don’t snitch to my trainer 😚

➥ mickschumacher: i’ll pick you up 😇

➥ landonorris: imma bout to crash TF out ong 💢💢

patriciooward: there's a spot on my side of the garage whenever you want to watch an indycar race

➥ landonorris: oh wow is this really what we're doing pato 😐

➥ user47: the tension in this comment section scares me

jjetas2: if you're near minnesota one day fall through

➥ landonorris: win a superbowl first 🥱😴

➥ user48: LANDO you haven't won a race or a championship either 😭

judebellingham: have you gotten any better at football since the last time we spoke?

➥ landonorris: knew i supported man united for a reason 😒

lore_musetti: call me if you want a real italian to give you a tour of italy x

➥ landonorris: didn't know an italian could disrespect charles like that honestly 🤨

➥ user49: 💀💀💀

instagram • yn0 • 2023

liked by georgerussell, mickschumacher, megantheestallion, and 4,178,063 others

yn0: japanese nightlife captured in my new music video “mamushi” !!! thank uuu yuki-san for being my tour guide 💋💋💋💋💋💋

tagged yukitsunoda

view comments

georgerussell: i quite enjoy this song 😌

➥ alexalbon: bro what

➥ yn0: tEa aND cRuMPets SConEs AnD biScUIts 💂🇬🇧

charlesleclerc: triple platinum in my house rn ⭐️⭐️⭐️

➥ alexandrasaintmleux: i'm responsible for at least a million views on my own 🥱

➥ yn0: 💚💚💚💚💚

user50: at least we know that yn and yuki can qualify for formula drift if they ever lose their f1 seat

➥ user51: 95% of the driving they were doing in that video looked illegal (but fun asl i'm not a buzzkill)

➥ user52: she's a bad influence on yuki 🙄

➥ user53: i don't think you're familiar with yuki tsunoda at all @/user52

maxverstappen: yeah the song is catchy; where's mine 🥱

➥ yn0: damn you're gonna win a third championship this year and you want a song too 😱

➥ yn0: just big and greedy fr 😒

➥ user54: big back attitude

➥ user55: like sheesh leave something for the rest of us 🤯

user50: gets p3 in suzuka driving an aston 🗿-> shrugs when asked how she did it 🗿 -> makes a banger mv in japan with yuki 🗿 -> refuses to elaborate 🗿

pierregasly: yuki explain your behavior in this video

➥ yukitsunoda: no 🤗

➥ user56: maybe he would've told you if you stayed at alphatauri

➥ user57: now you're in an alpine 🫵🏻😭

instagram • yn0 • 2023 post-season

liked by charlesleclerc, logansargeant, glorillathepimp, and 9,337,272 others

yn0: he don't "wanna be" saved don't save him 🤫

tagged maxverstappen

view comments

yn0: i don't need insurance cause a bitch CAN'T WRECK ME

➥ user58: no like she's never been in a crash her entire f1 career 🤓

➥ user59: she's untouchable srs

logansargeant: WHITE BOY WASTED CHANNING TATUM

➥ yn0: hoes love me like justin bieber 👅👅👅

user60: omg an old picture from yn's haas era when max's redbull wasn't a rocket ship 😩

➥ haasf1team: good times

➥ astonmartinf1: 💚💚💚

maxverstappen: you graduated from the max verstappen school of being unstoppable 😼

➥ charlesleclerc: austria 2022

➥ georgerussell: brazil 2022

➥ mickschumacher: my dad’s 7 championships

➥ alexalbon: i have nothing to add (literally)

➥ maxverstappen: out of the five of us we have three total world championships and they're all mine 😐

glorillathepimp: go yn 🥵

➥ yn0: get it glo 👅

➥ user61: i am no better than a man

➥ user62: i want this video tattooed on my eyelids

mickschumacher: i don't wanna be saved don't save me

➥ yn0: on gang 🤞🏾🔒🙅🏾‍♀️

kellypiquet: twenty missed calls...

➥ yn0: i would like to initiate a trade! i offer: max :) in return i receive: my twin p 🤲🏾

➥ kellypiquet: i will have a bag packed for her TONIGHT

➥ user63: kelly definitely won in that trade agreement! a childfree night??? sign me the fuck up ‼️

user64: i didn't think it was possible but this song is the worst thing she's ever made 😂

➥ user65: it's weird. max is in a committed relationship with a woman and has bonded with her kid. yn's getting involved with him when she shouldn't be 🤷‍♀️

➥ user66: girl she's been around since wayyyy before kelly as max's friend.

➥ user67: she forced max into friendship when they were karting back when he thought he couldn't have racing friends🥺

➥ user66: trauma bonded besties fr

sky sports f1 • 2024 testing

instagram • yn0 • 2024

liked by natalie_pinkham, danielricciardo, laybankz and 5,438,023 others

yn0: (my honest reaction when the internet can't stop talking shit about me) can't i make fun music videos without being called a homewrecker or a whore? sometimes "girls just wanna" f1 !

view comments

user68: no bc she makes hot girl music and y'all dont appreciate it 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️

➥ user69: if you don't like her music you're not a baddie i don't make the rules 🙅🏻‍♀️

user70: did she just make the song of the summer 😱😵‍💫☠️

➥ user71: song of the YEAR !!! and people calling her a whore smh

landonorris: what if you make an mv with me and instead of being called a whore i call you my girlfriend?

➥ mickschumacher: corny. delete your account 🚮

➥ user72: i disagree with mick, he ate that up imo 👀

➥ user73: isn't he messing around with that model/actress though…

➥ user74: you mean m*gui lol

➥ yn0: who's that

➥ user74: lando's recent sneaky link or gf i thought

➥ yn0: oh

charlesleclerc: if i were to call you one thing it would not be homewrecker or whore ✊🏻

➥ charlesleclerc: it would be hit-maker because you DO NOT MISS 😩

➥ alexalbon: one could even call her the 🐐

➥ georgerussell: grammy caliber artist

➥ maxverstappen: they compare her to lebron and simone biles in discussion of being the greatest of all time 😌

➥ yn0: just yesterday y'all said i give slut energy (affectionately) 😕

➥ maxverstappen: many things can be true at the same time

➥ charlesleclerc: false ‼️ accusations

sabrinacarpenter: girls just wanna have fun 😋

➥ user75: OMG sabrina what are you doing here

➥ user76: what in the disney channel crossover episode is going on

imessage • yn -> lando

instagram • yn0 • 2024

liked by mclaren, mickschumacher, lewishamilton, laybankz, and 8,765,392 others

yn0: dropping the "tell ur girlfriend" video tonight as celebration for lando's first win (me next please!) i DO NOT codone cheating but the song is too hard for me to pretend like it's not a banger 🤪

tagged landonorris

view comments

landonorris: you look good in papaya 🧡🧡🧡

➥ astonmartinf1: it's a little too much for our tastes 🤢

➥ yn0: i look good in any color but i do happen to prefer green 💚

➥ user77: i think lando's on to smth w the orange tho 🤔

landonorris: that's my girlfriend !!!!

➥ yn0: NO I AM NOT ❌❌❌

➥ yn0: WE WERE ACTING IN THIS MUSIC VIDEO

➥ yn0: LANDO I WILL SUE YOU FOR DEFAMATION 🤬

➥ landonorris: i'll wait for you 😔

➥ mickschumacher: she's so uninterested in you mate 🙃

user78: he gets his first win and a yn ln music video i know he's on cloud nine 😭😭😭

➥ user79: lando how does it feel to be living my dream 😩

oscarpiastri: oh thank god maybe he'll stop talking about you nonstop now that he got a video 🙏🏻

➥ landonorris: bro delete this comment

➥ user80: i screenshotted it too late 🫡

user81: she doesn't condone cheating but makes a song promoting it anyways 😑

➥ user82: she doesn't condone cheating but messes with lando even though she knows he's taken by magui 😑

➥ user83: she doesn't condone cheating but makes a song about it because it sounds fucking fire 🫦👅🔥🔥🔥

alexalbon: great video too much lando for me 😪

➥ georgerussell: he really just ruined the vibe

➥ charlesleclerc: y'all just mad you haven't been in one of her videos yet 🙂‍↔️

➥ maxverstappen: i don't see how you can hate from outside of the club 🤷🏼‍♂️

➥ landonorris: you can't even get in 🫵🏻🤣

twitter • yn0

instagram • yn -> the day ones

instagram • yn0 • 2024 post-season

liked by maxverstappen, fernandoalonso, zhouguanyu24, kaliii and 12,779,436 others

yn0: hoes mad about my roster being INTERNATIONAL smh stay mad and watch the music video for "area codes" it features all the men (my FRIENDS ✨) you'll never have a chance with 😇😚🤗🤭🤤💚💚💚

tagged f1

view comments

user84: no xnda feature but she got lewis in the fucking video

user85: i just wannna know hwo the fuck she got checo to be in the video 💀

user86: idc what the haters say: she just said y'all have no motion, no aura, no bitches and what are you gonna do about it 😳😳😱

user89: she got lando and mick in a photo together??? how they've been beefing in her comments for years 😧

➥ user90: can't believe im saying this but esteban did not deserve to be punished like that 😬

georgerussell: i am the one feeding her pasta and lobster btw

➥ yn0: you don't send me money tho :(

➥ georgerussell: you are an f1 driver too you don't need my money 🧐

charlesleclerc: can you leave some talent for the rest of us 😒

➥ yn0: bro u are mozart on your days off be serious

lilymhe: cause why are u never in town 😞

➥ alexalbon: cause she'll steal you from me 😭😫

➥ yn0: i'm pulling up rn lils 🫦

lewishamilton: you want a mercedes or a xnda feature?

➥ yn0: im tryna take the mercedes seat you left behind 👀

➥ user91: omfg toto sign herrrrrrrr ✍️

maxverstappen: anything for my favorite lady 🙇🏼🧎🏼‍♂️

➥ yn0: i gotta go they just lmk that i could pick up my mercedes 🏃🏾‍♀️💨

user92: lando in two photos? sus

➥ landonorris: you said it not me 🤫

➥ mickschumacher: bro you acted like her shadow the entire night don't let it go to your head 😠

fernandoalonso: very fun song!

➥ user93: you too old to be doin all that fernando :/

➥ user94: literally choked when i saw him in the video

logansargeant: hey you did manage to get me in "one of your little music videos" 🤭

➥ yn0: if only they knew that you agreed with a bribe of two zebra cakes

➥ user95: they couldn't fathom the delicacy that is a zebra cake 🤤

yn0: stop pretending to dislike my songs and realize that the boys are my homies. you'll be a lot happier when you come to terms with that 🥱

© httpsserene 2024

[dietcokegirly12]

“Call Me”

featuring satoru gojo and suguru geto ♰.𖥔 ݁ ˖🔪 

── ⋆˙⟡⋅☏. ₊˚ ☎︎⋆˙⟡⋅ ── ⋆˙⟡⋅☏. ₊˚ ☎︎⋆˙⟡⋅ ── ⋆˙

art credit: @aransmind (plsss check them out their art is so.. (っ´ω`c)♡

── ⋆˙⟡⋅☏. ₊˚ ☎︎⋆˙⟡⋅ ── ⋆˙⟡⋅☏. ₊˚ ☎︎⋆˙⟡⋅ ── ⋆˙

I needed to write a fanfic w these fanarts before halloween is over, so pls take this jjk oneshot ik its not my usual content but (♡﹃♡)

tags: squirting, overstim, knifeplay, threesome, oral (fem!recieving), masturbation, teasing, spitting, edging, degrading, cock piercing, unprotected sex, double penetration, creampie, etc etc

word count: 2.7k of straight filth

100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!!! i love and appreciate every single one of u bakas, and im so grateful you guys enjoy my writing you all mean the world to me :3

⋆˙⟡⋅☠︎︎☏𓌪₊˚⁺——— ⋆˙⟡⋅☠︎︎☏𓌪₊˚⁺ ——— ⋆˙⟡⋅☠︎︎☏𓌪₊

It was Halloween night, and you had been sprawled across the couch, idly watching Halloweentown, and going back and forth to the door to give out candies to trick-or-treaters when you heard it.

Riiing! Riiing!

Your phone lit up with an incoming call from an unknown number, which was unusual at this time. Confused, you press accept, holding it up to your ear.

"You hang up, and you die darling."

Rather than being frightened of the threat however, you laugh.

"Suguru, I know it's you."

Your two best friends, Satoru and Suguru, were always doing dumb shit like this, pranking you at any given opportunity, and you knew that this time was surely no different.

In an act of defiance, and maybe just to see what would happen, you brush off his warning and hang up, the dial tone signifying the end of the call.

The second you do however, you hear two ominous knocks ring out through the stillness of the night.

Startled, your head turns toward the door, feeling a hint of fear and.. something else, for the first but certainly not the last time that night.

Standing up, you hesitantly walk over to open the door, unsure what awaited you.

It swings open to reveal a Satoru dressed in a complete Ghostface costume, mask and everything, holding a knife in one hand.

You gasp softly as he begins to stalk toward you, placing his hands on either side of your hips and pushing you back onto the couch you were just on.

Your phone begins ringing again, and he simply stares at you, breathing softly as you reach for it, picking it up a little shakily.

"Hello?"

"What did I say doll?"

Your breathing slightly picks up as you listen, Satoru standing motionless before you.

"Now, since you decided to disobey me, our little friend over here is going to have to do something about that, hm?"

You gasp as in one fluid motion, Satoru has you pinned, the heat of his body pressed firmly against yours making your heart rate increase.

The hand that's holding the prop knife lifts to brush against your cheek, and it's then that you realize it's real, the cool tip of the metal making you shiver as he lightly draws it down your jaw.

He keeps going, past your neck and between the valley of your breasts, until it's grazing just in between your thighs, where the wetness of your arousal is rapidly pooling.

You bite back a whine as he ever so slightly brushes the very tip of the knife up and down the seam of your panties, having only put on a baggy t-shirt prior to this, expecting a cozy night in.

It's dangerous, and you know with one wrong movement, the knife could nick the most sensitive part of you, but it just felt so good.

With skilled fingers, Satoru's hand holding the knife comes to the strap of your lacy black panties, gently tugging it down using only the tip, and dragging it off your body to reveal your glistening pussy.

His head tilts, the hollow black eyes and stretched mouth of his mask seeming to stare at you tauntingly.

"Touch yourself." Geto's heated voice over the phone demands, and you inhale sharply as Satoru draws back expectantly.

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks at the prospect of being intimate with yourself in front of your two best friends, but that quickly fades when Satoru's knife warningly grazes your thigh, urging you to hurry.

You bite your lip nervously, reaching one hand in between your thighs to circle your sopping wet cunt, your fingers gliding easily across your slickness.

You hear Satoru inhale, and spurred on, you continue, adding a finger into your entrance and beginning to slowly pump it in and out, biting back a moan.

The obscene sounds of your cunt squelching become the only sound in the room, and your back arches as you lose yourself in the pleasure, eyes fluttering shut and forgetting about the fact that both Satoru and Suguru were still very much there.

As your pace increases, and you add a finger to rub your clit in unison, you can feel yourself getting closer, whimpering softly as your stomach tightens and coils. You spread your legs wider, orgasm so close you can practically taste it as you prepare for the whiteness of pleasure to overwhelm you and explode behind your eyelids and... it stops.

Your eyes fly open as Satoru's muscular arms pin your wrists together and hold them firmly over your head, leaving your cunt to throb desperately from the loss.

"You don't get to come yet, pretty." Geto's voice.

"Not with how rudely you hung up on us earlier."

You whine softly in protest, trying to arch your hips up but Satoru is quick to stop you, pinning your body to the couch.

"Please I-I'm sorry, I thought it was a prank!"

You break off into a sudden moan as Satoru's fingers come to cup your dripping pussy, long fingers spreading across you.

His other hand raises to lift the Ghostface mask off his head, revealing messy white hair sticking up in all directions, and hazy blue eyes wild and frantic-looking. "Fuck.. need to.."

Before you can even react, he drags you toward him, and buries his face between your thighs, inhaling deeply as his tongue instantly flicks out to taste you.

"Here's what's going to happen, doll. If you can manage to hold off, and not come within a certain period of time, we'll reward you. If you do come, well..." His voice breaks off, and you can practically hear the smirk on his face.

You open your mouth to respond but only small whines and moans manage to come out as Satoru settles into a more comfortable position, busying himself between your legs as his nose bumps your clit.

"Fuck!" Not wanting to anger Suguru more than you already have, you grab a fistful of Satoru's snowy white locks intending to pull him off of you, but your body betrays you and you end up only pulling him closer until his whole face is pressed right against your throbbing pussy.

You knew at this rate you weren't going to last, especially with how close you already were from earlier, and desperately, your hips twitch upward, soft pleas and moans for him to slow down proving fruitless.

He begins kitten-licking your cunt gently, and your legs tighten slightly around his head as you focus on something, anything other than the man between your spread thighs, trying your best to hold off as long as you can.

"How's that feel?" The deep purr of Suguru's voice snaps you out of your haze as you remember you're still on the phone with him, and you glance over quickly, flushed.

"Ah i-it.."

Ever eager for your attention, Satoru takes your sensitive clit into his mouth and sucks, and it's all over.

Your thighs clamp around his head tightly, and you feel him groan as you come hard, drenching his face in your sweet slick, eyes rolling back in your head, slutty moans of his name spilling out of you as white-hot pleasure consumes you.

Just then, the creak of the door opening cuts into your haze, and with a jolt, you see Suguru dressed in a similar get-up, his mask tilted up on his head to reveal the glinting piercings on his smirking lips, phone in hand.

"Well, well, well."

He shuts the door with his foot, coming over to the couch you're splayed across to coo at you softly, one large hand coming to slip under your shirt, and squeeze your breast firmly, causing you to whimper in response.

Satoru's still lapping up the remnants of your essence, lifting his head to gaze at you almost adoringly. "She's s' sweet, 'sugu."

He chuckles in response. "I bet she is. Though she still is a disobedient little whore, and one who can't seem to learn her lesson, at that."

Your breathing is shallow as your eyes flick between the two, unsure of what's going to happen next now that you hadn't listened to Suguru.

He leans close to you, lips almost brushing yours as he pauses just a few millimeters away. "Since you like to be a little slut, we're just going to have to treat you like one."

With that being his only warning, he nods to Satoru who quickly stands up from the couch to start undressing, the black velvety fabric of his costume falling to the floor in a pile.

Suguru does the same, revealing toned, muscular thighs and rippling abs, his muscles flexing and tightening as he steps out of his costume.

Next to go are their boxers, revealing two, very impressive cocks, both hard with pearly pre-cum beading from their slits.

You take a moment to ogle them for a moment, never expecting your two best friends to have such pretty dicks.

Satoru's is so long, longer than Suguru's, and sticks up straight in the air, flushed a pale pink and coming to a perfect pointed Cupid's arrow at the top, veins running all along it.

Suguru, on the other hand, is not as long but he's thick. So thick in fact, you don't think you can fit your hand all the way around him. The tip is a dark reddish hue, and what most draws your eye to him is the presence of piercings. Three, to be exact, all leading up to the thick, mushroom head of his cock, leaking pre-cum all over his stomach.

He nods again at Satoru, and they both put the masks back on, leaving two naked Ghostfaces in front of you.

Your breathing increases, this being a fantasy straight out of one of your wet dreams, but before you can speak, Suguru's large hands come to grip tightly on your hips, flipping you over roughly onto all fours.

Your cheeks heat up, and you whimper softly, hearing shuffling behind you as they move into position.

One of their hands comes to smooth over the curve of your ass, as they line up their cock to your entrance, gliding the tip over your slick folds as lubricant. "Ready, love?"

Satoru's voice. You nod, and he immediately pushes in, stretching you as he tries to fit all of him into you.

You cry out softly as you feel him deeper than anyone has ever gone before, but he shushes you gently, bending down to whisper softly into your ear, "It's not even halfway in, love."

Choked whines and moans pour out from you as, inch by inch he slowly sheathes himself deep inside, your cunt tightening and rippling around him adjustingly.

Before you can get a chance to recover however, you feel another thick, spongy tip prodding at you. Suguru.

"Fuck 'sugu!.. mnngh.. 's not gonna fit!" You desperately try to move, but only succeed in sucking Satoru even further in, making him groan into your ear, shifting to make more room for Suguru.

" 's okay, baby. Jus'.. fuck.. let us do all the work." He begins to slowly slide himself in, you desperately scrabbling for purchase on the couch as he stuffs you even fuller.

You feel the cold metal of his piercings brushing your walls, and let out a broken wail as you desperately try to hold yourself up, your legs already shaking.

When he slowly continues to push into you, the seconds seeming to stretch on painfully, you instinctively try to crawl up the couch, but Satoru is quick to pull you back by the hips, slamming Suguru's cock into you fully as he pulls you even further against them.

Suguru gifts you a sharp smack! on the ass, growling as his voice turns slightly breathier. "Don't run from us now, doll."

You're so full at this point, you can barely breath, able to feel them all the way in your stomach, tears filling your lash line as you desperately try to accommodate both of them.

Roughly, Suguru suddenly pushes you forward, your face squishing into the cushion as he lifts your ass higher, your back arching instinctively.

They both groan at the lewd sight, your abused, stuffed cunt on full display for them to see and use as they please, slick dribbling down between your thighs as muffled moans spill out of you.

"G'na move now, mmkay?" Suguru's husky voice sounds above you, and you can hear Satoru struggling for breath as he slightly pushes his hips forward.

You take a deep breath to prepare yourself, but all the air leaves you in a soft huff as they begin thrusting into you, perfectly synchronized with each other, the rough metal of Suguru's cock catching on your tight walls.

"Fuck I- nngh.. t'much t'much!" You can barely breathe with both of their pulsing cocks steadily rocking into you, drool seeping into the cushion below you as your eyes flutter and roll back, your ass arching higher.

"You can take it, baby." Satoru practically whines out, the rich soft grunts spilling from Suguru in your ear causing your pussy to clamp desperately around both of them, hisses and soft curses sounding from behind you.

Your sweet whines and whimpers become progressively louder and louder as the room fills with the harsh smacking sound of skin against skin, and Suguru grabs a fistful of your hair, lifting your head up to cover your mouth with his hand, your teeth instantly sinking into his palm as tears spill down your cheeks freely.

You can feel your stomach tightening as they continue plunging into you relentlessly, Satoru whimpering pathetically as Suguru's thick, veiny cock grinds against his own, throbbing faintly inside you.

"S'fucking good. Why didn't we do this sooner?" Suguru grunts out, either to you or Satoru, you don't know as the only thing you can do is whine, pushing back on them slightly as warmth builds in your tummy.

One of Satoru's hands snake around you to rub your clit in unison with the harsh thrusts they're delivering, your mouth falling slack open from the sheer pleasure of it all.

As Satoru continues pressing against your throbbing clit, Suguru begins to roughly grope your breasts, squeezing and pinching tightly before moving down to your stomach to press against the bulge that disappears and reappears with every thrust.

Your climax now rapidly approaching, you turn your head over your shoulder to look at them, which turns out to be a huge mistake because what you see resembles something straight out of a porno.

Suguru has his head tilted back, hips languidly thrusting in and out, his mask slipping downward slightly to reveal long black hair fanning out messily around his shoulders. Satoru is a whiny, pathetic mess, his mask not being able to conceal how flustered and needy he looks as his hips piston in and out, shamelessly rubbing himself against Suguru's dick for more friction as his pale chest heaves up and down with every breath.

Before you even realize what's happening, you're coming, a muffled whine leaving your throat as your orgasm crests and crashes over you, a thin glistening geyser gushing out of you and covering both their cocks and chest as you squirt, not even realizing as your body falls forward, slumping onto the couch.

"Fuck baby, did you jus'..." Satoru can't hold back anymore after the lewd display you just gave, and comes with a groan, spilling himself deep into your velvety walls.

Suguru follows close behind, a milky white ring forming around his base from just how much cum he's pumping into you, hips stuttering erratically.

They both collapse on top of you, the weight of their bodies against yours comforting as you all gasp for breath together, sticky bodies sliding along each other, them pulling their masks off to reveal mussed hair and sweaty, flushed faces.

After a few moments of coming down from their highs, they both pull their softening cocks out, leaving your sticky, sweat-sheened body to heave for breath, desperately needing a reprieve.

But, you don't get a chance, as Suguru suddenly flips you back over, and spreads your legs wide, spitting a warm glob of saliva onto your sensitive, ruined cunt still seeping all the cum they had just filled you with mere moments ago.

You twitch, overstimulated and trying to turn away, but he just holds you down by the hips as Satoru crawls closer, his head bending down close, warm breath fanning over your poor pussy, and soft white hair brushing against your inner thighs.

"Come on baby, you haven't given us our Halloween treat yet."

[pseudophan]

PHANNIE COOKBOOK SIGN-UPS!!

Do you have a really good recipe you think Dan and Phil would enjoy? Consider submitting it to this collaborative phannie cookbook that will be given to DnP at a meet & greet! It will also be available to everyone to download as a PDF.

Family recipes or your favourite dish from your country/culture is a bonus, but it doesn’t have to be that personal. All I ask is that you don’t go rip something random off the Internet right now just to be in the book, I want food you genuinely enjoy!

I’ve decided the most efficient way of doing this is to let you submit up to 3 different options, that way if there are any repeats (and I’m certain there will be) I won’t have to message everyone it concerns to ask if you have any alternatives. Besides, that way I can choose which version gets in based on your other options rather than which one “sounds better” to me, cause I think that would be a little unfair. I also have no idea how many people will actually participate in this yet, which is currently the biggest hurdle in terms of planning. If only a few sign up there is a chance we’ll end up using multiple recipes by some, and if somehow we get too many I’ll have to pick and choose. I do really want to include as many people as possible, but until I actually see the recipes it’s hard to tell what will end up happening.

The main focus of this will be actual food, but we obviously need to include a few desserts, so feel free to submit those as well just be aware the chances of those getting picked might be lower. The same goes for soups, I assume a lot of people have soup recipes and we might include a couple, but for obvious reasons it's a low priority.

Some key things to keep in mind:

Phil is a bit picky and has some dietary restrictions! He shouldn’t have dairy or chocolate and he doesn’t like cheese or mushrooms, among other things. That doesn’t mean you have to avoid these things entirely, but maybe your grandma’s mac and cheese recipe isn’t the best choice

While neither of them is vegan they do eat a lot of vegan food, so we definitely need some vegan dishes. I also think it would be really great if you suggested vegetarian and/or vegan substitutions you know work well with your recipe! That isn’t a must for every dish, but it’s a nice addition where possible

Tragically, Dan and Phil are British, meaning they won’t necessarily have access to all the same ingredients as you. Luckily they are also rich and live in a major city with a lot of options so they aren’t limited to what they can find at their local Tesco, but since the aim of this book is to encourage them to cook we probably shouldn’t be sending them on a scavenger hunt either. I don’t think this will be a huge issue, but if your recipe calls for something you think might be very niche or local to you it might be worth googling it or asking around

The final book will be using UK measurements, but if your recipe doesn’t then don’t even worry about it for now. We’ll get to that later. You also don’t have to worry about typing out the whole step-by-step in detail in the sign-up form, I just need a list of the ingredients and roughly how to prepare it to gauge whether it’s a good fit.

I promise I’m almost done yapping but lastly, about some of the questions on the form - you don’t need to know exactly how long the dish takes to prepare, that will depend on the person or people making it anyway, but we do need a rough estimate. The difficulty level is obviously quite subjective, but I just want to hear how you personally would rank it, and if there is a specific part of the process you think someone who doesn’t cook a lot might struggle with. As for the last question about photos, I’m asking both if you have the time and opportunity to make the food and if you are able to take a good photo of it. Obviously it doesn’t have to be anything professional, a phone camera is fine, it just needs to be well lit and decent quality.

Okay, I think that’s everything-

Here's the sign-up form

The deadline is in a week, at midnight Thursday to Friday CET :)

(I also made a blog for this @phookbook for information and updates! A lot of it will probably still be on this blog, but I'll try to post/reblog the most important things on there for those who want to keep up with everything but who may not want to deal with all the chaos of pseudophan)

[zyafics]

HIII!!! I love ur writing sm <3 If you're taking requests, I was wondering if you could do one about a reporter reader who used to date Rafe but they broke up and now she has to interview him??? Set in college if possible! Thank you so much! I hope you're having a good day 🥰

hi baby! yes, i do take requests and i absolutely love this one 🥰 i made reader work for a network company but she's still in college and he plays basketball! (but fair warning, i know absolutely nothing about basketball so if i got the terminologies wrong, look away!!) i hope you enjoy <3 this is angsty as fuck

ALL FOR THE GAME | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot) | College Basketball Player x Ex!Reporter!Female Reader .ᐟ

Content — college au, athlete/reporter, prior breakup, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort

Word Count — 4.2K

You couldn't believe it.

It's considered lucky. For someone in your position—having received this entry-level job a couple of weeks ago—to have the opportunity to interview an athlete. In fact, many people would call it a great honor.

And it is. Under normal circumstances, you would be more than happy to oblige—elated, even—because people at this stage in your career rarely get such an opening. Especially since you're in college, fully prepared for this internship to be nothing more than grunt work.

Yet, this? This would allow you to advance your career at an expedited rate only offered to nepotism. You should be thrilled, overcome with joy, jumping at your feet and thanking whatever deity you believed in for such a chance.

But you don't.

Because the person to interview is Rafe.

Rafe Cameron, the top prospect of the NBA draft picks.

Rafe Cameron, your ex-boyfriend.

Your boss waits for an answer. He proposed the question a few moments ago, about covering the press conference for the last game of the season. Because of a sick reporter who called out at the last minute, your objective is to build a profile on Rafe Cameron. Since he's the leading prospect, with scouts all over the country looking at him, many people want to know more about the rising all-star who's done nothing but dominate the court.

This proposal, however, was done more out of common courtesy. No one would be stupid enough to say no, and when your boss raises a brow, signifying his manifesting annoyance from your silence and lack of celebratory cheers—you stammer.

"Um, um," you say.

"Um, what?" He prompts. "Will you be doing it or not?"

You shouldn't. There are many reasons why you shouldn't attend Rafe's basketball games. There's resentment because when you step back into that arena, back onto that court, you're reminded of how Rafe picked it over you. There's lingering sadness, residing heavily against the back of your heart, dulled from the passage of time, but not completely forgotten. And lastly, there's anger, because sometimes, all you want to do is scream, cry, and yell at the man who shattered your heart into a billion different pieces.

But that doesn't matter, does it?

Romance has no place in a reporter's life because you're nothing more but a projection for the audience, a vessel for the readers to learn about something else. You don't have feelings; you're a prop. And, certainly, it doesn't matter to your boss, who's only asking you because you're the last choice.

"Well?"

Seconds away from retracting the offer, something in your chest tightens. Logically, you know the choice to make. But your heart doesn't agree. It still hurts, aches, and burns at all of the past memories. It wants nothing more than to bury itself in a hole and pretend that such a critical part of your history does not exist.

But you can't. Life only moves forward. So, all you do is move with it.

"I'll do it."

By the time you arrive at the stadium, all you want to do is run. Anxiety pricks at your spine and your palms grow clammy by your side. Everything inside you is blaring like a warning, cautioning that this is a mistake, that you aren't ready, and that you should turn back.

Despite the badge dangling around your neck, you almost listen. Put your career on hold for a man who hasn't given a single thought about you since the breakup. You can't let him win, and with that reminder, you move with the mob, flocking to their seats.

The atmosphere is charged with exhilaration, and you're reminded of everything before. It's automatic. How easy it is for you to return to old patterns, to follow them, and to find yourself trickling down the steps and towards the courtside seats reserved for family and friends of the team.

Until a hand is placed on your lower back, and a security guard guides you to the press box instead.

It's quieter. The enclosure of the room dulls the energy of the crowd, with a thick sheet of glass separating you from the rest of the people, and reminding you of your purpose.

You take a seat on a cushioned chair, reserved for your network, and look around the place. You're among the most seasoned reporters in their field, chatting with one another, familiarity engulfing the air that somewhat alienates you. They pay you little mind—saved for a curious-yet-judgmental glance at how you wore a jersey compared to their formal suits and pencil skirts. When you follow their line of vision, you realize it wasn't an ordinary merch of the UNC team but Rafe's.

"Fuck," you mumble. You hadn't realized you picked out his jersey; it was left in the back of your closet and you couldn't see yourself attending your college's game without a visual form of support. This probably appears to the rest of the journalists that you're nothing more than a superfan who managed to weasel their way into their network.

It makes your stomach flips with nausea. You want to separate Rafe from you as much as possible, and with a quick run to the bathroom, you change out of the merch and throw it over your tote, straightening out your blouse underneath. When you return, the players are slowly filling out to court.

The visitors' team enters first; UNC follows. You count each player that exits the locker room, watching their expressions as they grin and absorb the energy of their home stadium, as they walk down the length of the bench, as they talk among themselves and share playful jests and banter. You didn't even know you were holding your breath until Rafe stepped out last, to the loudest cheer of the crowd, with a solemn look on his face.

You watch as Rafe searches the stands. Not in the same manner as his teammates, where they're acknowledging fans, or sending flirtatious winks to pretty girls sitting front row. It's different— with purpose. He's searching for something—someone—and your heart clenches in your chest at the thought of Rafe having found your replacement.

But it's been months, hasn't it? It should be more than fair game for him to date whatever he wants. You can still act professionally with this developing news, but it's striking down at your armor.

However, whoever he's looking for, he doesn't find. Rafe goes to huddle with the rest of his team as their Coach gives a final motivational speech before releasing them.

The game starts with a tip-off, and once the referee throws the ball in the air, Rafe takes it into his possession.

He sprints across the court, slicing through the opponent players, and scoring points on the board. Rafe is powerful, knowing exactly when to exchange his hands and pass to his teammates, where exactly to cut through, and when to commit to a play. Commentary heard from the built-in speakers can attest to it, as their primary focus is on how Rafe is taking the last game of the season by storm.

But, while everyone's eyes are glued to the game, as much as you try not to, you can't do anything but stare at Rafe.

He's just as incredible as he was when you were dating him; if not, more. In some way, it makes your heart tighten, knowing that this validates his reason for the breakup. You just wish he felt some semblance of the pain you feel. But as much as you hate it, you're also proud. Rafe has come so far, and trained so hard, to make it to where he is. If he secures a win for the last game, it will be nothing but a guaranteed track to the NBA and luxuries and fame ahead.

All without you.

By the time the game ended, Rafe scored the last shot in a close game, delivering the end of the conference with a secured UNC victory. Everyone in the press box stands from their seats, heading to the media room where they'll be meeting a panel of UNC athletes for questions.

Yet, you linger. You step up to the glass, watching as the erupted cheers of the audience surround the entire stadium, much to the glee of the UNC team, while Rafe stands in the middle of the court for a few seconds, soaking everything in. His eyes pan across the bleachers again, in search for something, before his expression falls and he retreats to the locker room.

When you enter the room of journalists, you slip into a seat. It'll be a while before the players come shuffling in, and you take each second to rehearse and calm your nerves. In one hand, is a tape recorder, while the other is a notepad of the written questions you plan to ask.

UNC's Publicist steps out first to provide an official statement and give a brief overview of the conduct of this press conference. She'll be the moderator, giving everyone enough time to ask all of their questions, and she'll be selecting the networks to her own accord. After everyone comes to the general consensus, the door opens and the Coach steps out with his players.

You watch with bated breath as Rafe is the last to enter, freshly showered and changed into grey sweatpants with a matching UNC zip-up jacket. His headphones dangles around his neck, while his expression exudes nothing but boredom and reluctance. Rafe has always hated interviews, especially post-games, during your relationship. At least that's the one thing that hasn't changed.

You drop your gaze to your lap, swallowing hard as you calm your racing heartbeat. It's been months, yet you still feel the same emotions coursing through you as if no time has passed—longing, hurt, sadness. You whisper positive affirmations, reminding yourself that it's just a job, and that'll be short and simple. You won't even have to speak to Rafe, because your boss may have said to find out more about Rafe Cameron for your profile, nowhere did he say you have to ask him specifically.

When Rafe sits on his chair, he lazily scans the room, a habit of his to pass the time, before he spots you among the crowd. In the third row, second seat; your favorite choice to sit. You don't see it, but a corner smile lifts to his face, demeanor changing, and he straightens up in his seat.

Throughout the conference, the publicist hands the microphone off to whoever she selects. They often direct their questions at Rafe, to which he gives monosyllabic and deadpanned answers. Then, when they try to seek more clarification, Rafe gives them nothing, much to their grimness.

You keep your head low, writing down notes, and drawing doodles on the edge of your notepad. Anything to avoid making accidental eye contact with Rafe. But, regardless, you feel him. The heat of his stare remains on you the entire time, especially when the publicist approach you and hands you the microphone.

It’s time.

With trembling hands, you stand from your seat. You turn your attention to the front of the panel, introducing yourself, your network, and your job. Smiles spread across Rafe's teammates as they recognize you, and you offer a polite one of your own.

Beginning at the furthest player at the end of the table, you ask, "How would you describe Mr. Cameron as a teammate?"

He grins as if he was prepared for this. "Rafe's an incredible teammate and captain. He's a capable leader, who's strong on the court, but also strong on having his teammates' back. You saw it back there—" That earns a small laugh from the reporters. "But, yeah. Rafe's one of my favorite teammates, if I'm being honest."

You tilt your head at that conclusion, because, if you remember correctly, in freshman year, he often rivaled with Rafe and got into fights over minor things. Regardless, you nod, thanking him for his response, and moving on to the next player with the next question.

"What do you think about Mr. Cameron's plays throughout the season?"

"Is that all you got for me, Mrs?" The second player teases playfully, causing heat to warm your cheeks. "Whatever, I got this. Well, let me think. Rafe's always had solid stats. He's one of the hardest-working players on and off the court, and he always keeps his head focused. Even when he had a bit of a bump a couple of months back, he adjusted his plays and bounced back. That’s his resilience."

Your breath hitches at the implication. You try your hardest not to sneak a glance at Rafe, but you can't help yourself. Turning to your side, you discover Rafe watching you, his expression grimacing at the confession of his teammate.

Months ago. The only thing that changed was your breakup. Does this mean he was as affected as you were?

You try not to think too much about that. Thanking the player again, you move to the next, asking more about Rafe's character—his prospects for the NBA, and his experience managing a student-athlete. You didn't ask just about Rafe, you asked about the games and conferences too, but most of the players always return their answers to Rafe. Positively. As if they had this unspoken agreement behind the scenes to hype Rafe up to his ex-girlfriend.

Time goes on, and you start to immerse yourself in the role. It wasn't as difficult as you expected, especially because you're entertaining a team who've known you all throughout their collegiate career. They answered the questions with enthusiasm and a playfulness that can only be recognized by years of familiarity. You can feel the energy from the reporters shift, stewed with envy, because of how the players are showing favoritism to a novice reporter who barely has her foot in the door.

Rafe watches you the entire time. How truly riveting you are in your role. How you command the room with your questions, how you captivate the players, and how you grow more comfortable as you talk to your teammates. He waits patiently as you make your way down the table, for his chance to talk to you.

But just as he's about to be next, you return the microphone to the moderator. You were going to leave him hanging. Before you can fully hand off the mic, a voice commands the room.

"What about me?"

It was Rafe. You lift your head to find him leaning against his own microphone propped on the table, his blue eyes pinned on you, his expression full of want. Your lips part, but no words fall through. The publicist doesn't take back the microphone.

You stammer. "What about you?"

"Don't you have any questions for me?" He questions, as the crowd murmurs with surprise. On any other day, Rafe would've gladly taken the lack of questions aimed at his face. You've done your research; you've seen his previous interviews.

"I..." You can't seem to answer him. All eyes—from the Coach, to the players (who are smiling their head off), to the reporters—turn to you. "I've asked all my questions."

"I'm sure you can think of one more," he declares, his eyes not once straying from your face. As if he's taking the time to memorize all of your features, to absorb any changes. "Come on, hit me."

Everyone waits. Eagerly. With jealousy. The media room stills with a palpable silence, and you can't do anything but retract your arm, holding the microphone back up to your lips.

You blink, racking your brain for any questions. You truly did ask all of them, and there's nothing appropriate enough to ask in front of a room full of people who are recording and monitoring your moves. So, you settle on something safe.

"How did you feel scoring that winning shot?"

Rafe takes a deliberate moment to consider his answer. His silence tells it all. Before he leans down against the mic, his lips centimeters from the pop filter, and he says, "Empty."

Flashes of the camera go off, and hushed whispers are heard throughout the room. But none of that matters to you. Your eyes remain on Rafe, your heart skipping beats from his confession, and you tame enough of your voice before asking a follow-up. "Can you explain why?"

He nods. "Basketball is great and all, and I'm grateful for everything that has happened, and all I have accomplished. Hell, I'm even grateful for this team right here that's been such a hardass on me since day one," he gestures to his teammates on the panel, and they all grin and laugh. One even blows him a kiss. "But, at the end of the day, it's just a game. Without the people you love by your side, it's meaningless."

You truly feel like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs and tears crowd your waterline. When his words finally deliver through, it's almost a straight shot to your chest. This was the admission you'd been waiting for, but it didn't feel satisfactory whatsoever. It's painful, all of the old wounds opening by their stitches, and grief comes crawling up your throat, demanding to be felt.

You don't answer him. You can't. Rafe watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see if his words had any impact, but you hide them well. For now. With tears stinging your vision, and seconds from unraveling at the seams, you drop the microphone onto the chair and leave the room in a rush.

That's when he realizes he fucked up.

Rafe stands from his seat, ready to follow after you, but his Coach commands him to sit down. His gaze remains on you until you exit the room, but with direct orders, he can do nothing but slump back into his chair.

When Rafe finishes the rest of his interviews, with more reluctance than he had before, he wants nothing more than to go back to campus to search for you. But he doesn't know if that's such a good idea. Clearing out, Rafe steps out of the doors.

To where you were waiting.

"You had no right," you snap, as Rafe heads to the exit of the stadium. He whips around at the sound of your voice, finding you leaning against the wall. As much as he knows he fucked up, he can't explain the happiness he feels at seeing you still here.

"For what?" Rafe prompts with an easygoing smile, "Talking? I'm pretty sure that's what the press conference is about."

But you don't take it so easy.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," you huff, "You used my words against me."

During the breakup, Rafe had said something along the lines of focusing on his basketball career. You had rebutted that basketball can't be the one thing in his life. At the time, he disagreed, prompting the necessity of the breakup further. It had hurt to hear your words twisted and used against you.

"It was friendly," he reassures. "Just like the rest of my teammates. Talking like we're friends."

"We're not friends and you know that."

He frowns. "We said we would be."

"No, you said that," you hiss, clenching your hands by your side, memories slapping you and prickling your skin. "To rid yourself of the guilt, or to make it seem like permanent. I don't know. But it doesn't work that way with me, Rafe. We aren't friends."

His brows pinch together, and agitation flares through his hard features. "So, that's what it's gonna be like? You come to my games and you interview my entire team but you ignore me because we broke up? That's unprofessional."

You falter. "That's not fair."

"It isn't?" He challenges, stepping closer into your space. "How do you think I felt when you were interviewing every single one of my teammates about me, but refusing to talk to me? To look at me? What does that suggest?"

"That I got everything I needed from your teammates."

"You could've gotten it directly from the source."

"I didn't need to,"

"You could've,"

"Why are you so adamant about me talking to you?"

"Because you're acting like a vindictive bitch."

You stagger back as if he struck you, and Rafe instantly regretted the words that left his mouth. But he can't take them back. Your lips part, and you stare at him in disbelief, but you come up with nothing to defend yourself.

With the hardest glare you can muster, you proclaim, "Fuck you, Rafe."

And you turn to leave.

Rafe quickly follows after you. "Wait—that's not—I didn't mean that."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Just like you didn't want to talk to me in the conference room?"

"You broke up with me!" You snap, stopping in your tracks with such abruptness, that Rafe almost ran into you. Turning back around to face him, you say, "You were the love of my life, and you left me, and you expect me to keep it professional?"

Rafe says nothing.

"I'm trying," you croak, tears crowding your vision again, and you hate how vulnerable and pathetic you feel in his presence. Like it was back to that night in the car, where Rafe said it was over. "I'm trying to do this right."

Rafe watches your face with anguish, but he can't say anything. You're trying hard to keep your composure, and regain some semblance of stability, you say with a even voice, "I'm glad everything is working out the way you want it to. I'm glad you get this bigshot career and you're about to make it in the NBA, and I'm glad you found it so easy to move on but that's not how it worked with me." Your voice cracks. "I loved you. I can't just forget about it like it's nothing."

His voice is small when he answers. "I didn't."

"You didn't?" You repeat with disbelief. "Rafe, you're thriving. You barely look like our breakup had any impact on you. You're about to secure one of the biggest deals in NBA history. What else could you possibly be missing?"

"You."

His dark eyes connect with yours in utmost vulnerability and it cripples you. All your aggression and anger, all your pent-up frustration—it makes you upset that Rafe manage to disarm you with one word.

"No," you step back, shaking your head, "You can't do that."

"It's the truth."

"It's too late."

Rafe looks pained at your declaration. "Don't say that."

"Don't say what?" You sniffle, your vision blurring with hot tears. "My truth? Did you expect me to wait around for you to come to your senses? To beg for you to take me back?"

"I didn't..." Rafe stammers, searching your face for any indication that it isn't too late. That he still had a chance. But he doesn't find any. "I was honest back there. Any win without you feels empty."

"Stop,"

"I made a mistake."

"Rafe—" You shake your head again, sucking in a deep breath, and needing him to listen and step back. "I'm not here to talk about that. I don't want to talk about that."

"But I do,"

"But I don't," you declare firmly. "I just... I need you to understand. You can't do that. I'm trying to move on with my life. And I understand that we're going to be seeing each other, no matter how I don't want to. But I'll get used to it. I'll numb that pain. But you can't do that. Here; back there. It wasn't fair to me."

Your words sound too permanent. Too real. Rafe can't stand it.

With desperation, he pleads, "Can we talk?"

"We're already talking."

"No, I'm talking about us," Rafe says, taking a step forward. Only for you to take one back. "Please."

"There's nothing to talk about it."

"There's so much to say."

"Name one."

"I miss you."

"Rafe," you cry, tears streaming down your face that you can no longer contain. He hates seeing you cry. He hates it more to be the reason. All he wants is to pull you into his arms and apologize, over and over, to soothe the pain, but it looks as if it would hurt worse if he tried to touch you. "Please stop. You're breaking my heart again."

He made a mistake. There are so many times he can say that. When he saw you in the media room, for the first time in months, it came rushing back to what he's missing. How much he's losing you. He wanted to ask you so much—about how you're doing, to learn how you got the job, to uncover more about how close you are to achieving your dreams.

But he was barricaded. By responsibilities, obligations, and duties. He couldn't ask you in a room full of people. He couldn't help you when his father pressured him to break up with you for his career. He couldn't do anything, then. But he wants to do better now.

He says your name, so defeated, in a last-ditch effort. But you shake your head.

You need to leave this place with whatever is left of your pride and dignity. So, you straighten your spine, take out his jersey from your tote, and hand him the last remnant of your relationship. "Congratulations on your win, Mr. Cameron. I wish you the best in your career."

And when you turn to leave this time, he doesn't stop you.

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

[crescenthistory]

i hear searching for fluff. i raise you cat animagus reader and the animal politics that come with being a cat. oh that’s a glass of water you’ve placed on the counter? what a perfect place for my paw to go. they’re a total goodie two shoes but can never stop themselves from swatting at and generally terrorizing sirius, dog form or not. i’ve seen so many videos of woodland animals like stags befriending cats or stealing their food and everyone just being like “wdym i didn’t know they could do that”. reader starts slow blinking at people without realizing. i could go on for forever i would love to see shenanigans and hijinks

beautiful thoughts, i enjoyed all of them. i let them inspire me into a drabble situation of cat!reader terrorising sirius with reg (and rem) on her side. this is just pure chaos and silliness, thank you for the opportunity lovie<3

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, no use of y/n but your cat form is called "whiskers", james and sirius pranked you mildly, you get revenge as a cat, you are only in cat form throughout this, sibling squabbles, super minor injuries (you put your claws in sirius), platonic physical affection, general chaos and fluff

Note: this is technically in the same universe as my other two (first, second) cat!animagus!reader fics with regulus, but can be read alone. it is more of a platonic!sirius x reader fic though, it focusses on the interactions between them + reg, rem and james

Sirius had been made aware by many a parent, professor and otherwise nosey adult, that actions had consequences. Which was all fine and dandy with him, the consequences were often the sole inspiration for his actions. 

This, however. This, they did not warn him about.

“Ow, ow, ow!” he hissed, trying to shake the feline creature off his shoulder. 

Just a few seconds ago, she had been innocently peering down on his textbook, front paws resting on his shoulders as she stood on the top of the sofa he was reclining against. That didn’t last long though, as her claws came out and dug in through the fine material of his shirt, seeking the pain and destruction this evil creature seemed to live off of.

Unaffected by his shaking, she elegantly climbed down his arm – claws still out and still using him as leverage – to plop onto the table before them with a soft prrt!

“Remus, your friend is hurting me,” Sirius sneered at his boyfriend who was sat in a grandfather chair beside him, flipping through a newspaper Sirius was quite certain was out of date.

The other boy hummed noncommittally. “Does she have reason to?” he asked without looking up from the paper.

“No!” Sirius exclaimed at the same time as Regulus said, “absolutely.”

He shot his brother a glare on the other side of the sofa. He was reading through a novel in pristine condition, only looking up to glance fondly at the menace currently parading around the coffee table. Sirius was growing miffed that none of his hangout companions were sparing him any attention.

“I haven’t done anything, and if I had the minx should be over it by now.” Sirius did his best to seem authoritative, but he had a tough crowd.

You hissed at him from where you were standing on the table. Regulus looked up at that with mirth swimming in his eyes despite his impassive facial expression.

“She seems to disagree, Pads,” Remus said nonchalantly. “She’s also been running around as Whiskers for the past few hours, which she only does when she is either really pleased and really upset.”

“And she’s not pleased,” Regulus added unhelpfully.

Sirius muttered something under his breath that amounted to “I wouldn’t be pleased either, if I had to be in a relationship with such a grump” to which he received a throw pillow to the face, another hiss and an admonishing “Pads”.

"It was just a little prank," Sirius defended himself. "It's quite literally what we do." He didn't feel the need to go into the specifics; this was a dog he wanted to bury yesterday. Or, well, cat.

"To no one's enjoyment but your own, I'm sure," Regulus huffed. "If she's bothered by it, that's entirely her right."

Sirius looked to Remus for some backing up, and when he found none, he let out another groan, collapsing further into the sofa in his evident despair.

He would have happily stayed there, bitching and moaning as he pleased, had it not been for the suspicious sounds coming from the coffee table.

There, he found that you had not looked away from him and were sitting disturbingly close to the little homework station he had sat up earlier to then promptly ignore – an open textbook, half-written essay, quill and unscrewed inkpot. The look in your eyes was one you had picked up from Remus in your early days together, full of mischief and tomfoolery. 

“Don’t you even dare–” Sirius managed to get out as he sat up in his seat and pointed a chiding finger at you, but the damage was done.

With what almost sounded like cat laughter – something most unknowing students would brush off because why would a cat laugh but Sirius knew all too well must be your joy at his expense – you knocked over his inkpot. The pot was almost full and the ink fell right on top of his essay and textbook. He let out a half-screech as he moved forward to correct the damage, but you walked straight into the pool of ink, ensuring you were spreading it further around his essay and the feather of his quill. 

Regulus let out an unrestrained bark of laughter as Sirius sank to the floor in front of you, blabbering anger, while Remus simply snorted as he shook his head, choosing not to get involved yet.

“You furry bastard!” Sirius called out as he picked up his parchment, trying to shake some of the excess ink off, only worsening its condition. “You absolute menace.”

Some of the ink he shook off got on your fur, adding to what was already coating your paws from dragging it around. You solved this in the only manner that made sense in cat-world – by launching yourself at Sirius, effectively doubling his screeches within the second.

“Oi! Oi!” Sirius kept calling as you hopped onto his chest, burying your claws into him so he couldn’t simply shake you off, ink smearing all over Sirius’ previously white shirt. The assault of a lifetime, if you asked him. “Azkaban! Azkaban for all of you!” he called when he saw Regulus doubling over with laughter on the opposite end of the sofa.

“Pads! What’s going on, mate?” James’ voice called as he came half-running over after spotting the commotion the second he entered the common room. 

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but upon James spotting the feline devil currently attempting to smear more of the ink across his being, he interrupted with a coo. 

“Oh, hi there little Whiskers!” James greeted, bending down to pick you up by the neck. In that James-Potter-way he simply peeled you off of Sirius and held you out before him, just far enough that the ink wouldn’t get on him. “What’s got you in such a tizzy, huh?” he asked, poking at you with his free hand which earned him a petulant hiss.

“The bloody puma destroyed my essay and leaped at me,” Sirius huffed as he clambered back up, ignoring how he sounded like a first year telling on a classmate to McGonagall.

“I believe she is seeking revenge from that little stunt you two pulled earlier,” Remus drawled from his seat, sharing a look with Regulus who rolled his eyes. They knew.

“Which is fully within her right, I must add,” Regulus said, ever the devoted boyfriend. Bloody lucky you. “And she’s not a puma, you wanker, you’re just scared of cats.”

“Slander! ‘M not!” Sirius defended himself, but James ignored him, turning his attention to the cat wriggling in his grip.

“Did we upset you, little kitten?” James asked so friendly you almost wouldn’t catch the teasing in his tone. “So sorry. Next time we’ll hex your tie a different colour. Robe too, yeah?”

Upon receiving another hiss from you and a lunge of your paw, James outright giggled and petted the top of your head carefully, neutralising you if for but a moment.

“How come she’s forgiving you right away? I have had my property destroyed and was lightly maimed in her quest for revenge!” Sirius shook his head in disapproval, attempting to stare you down. It wasn't turning out to be fruitful.

“Sirius, I have a question for you.” Regulus didn’t continue until Sirius reluctantly met his gaze. “Did you know – and be honest with me now – that you’re a wizard?”

Before Sirius could give him a snarky response, Regulus had waved his wand casually over the ink pools on the table and stains on his clothes, cleaning both up effectively as if nothing had happened. Then he gave Sirius a smug smile that made him want to turn into Padfoot and lunge at him – which probably wasn’t a good idea given there were other people in the room.

“Imbécile grossier,” Sirius muttered under his breath as he kicked a leg out at Regulus, intended more for effect than harm.

He received a “connard stupide” in return as Regulus dodged any further assault by getting up and walking over to James, who was now fully petting the rabid killer, whispering something about “please forgive me, it was just too funny not to”. Traitor. 

“Hey there, amour,” Regulus said as he picked you up out of James’ arms. “Are you regretting marrying into the family?”

You made a huffing sound, climbing out of his arms to settle along his shoulders, over his neck, were you could cuddle against him while still scowling at Sirius.

“You and me both, sister,” Remus mumbled half-heartedly. Sirius gasped at him with every theatrical bone in his body, earning him an eye roll and – at last – for Remus to abandon the paper to give him a quick smooch.

“I didn’t realise sister-in-laws were allowed to be as sibling-y as an actual sister,” James mused as he folded his arms to take in the scene before him. 

“She’s not,” Sirius argued, extracting another eye roll from Remus who patted his thigh placatingly. “Cats are just evil.”

“You could always confront her as Pads, you know, level the playing field,” James suggested.

“Absolutely not.” Regulus turned around so his body was shielding the cat on his shoulders from the three boys. “Not that I doubt she would win against your clumsy self any day, but let’s not even go there.”

Sirius and James barked a laugh that was disturbingly similar while Remus shook his head. “Don’t worry Reg, the less time I can spend around kittens, the better,” Sirius said briskly, feeling emboldened by James’ presence. 

You poked your head around Regulus’ neck at that, so that the two of you could share a look. It’s always peculiar for Sirius to see how much understanding seems to pass between you two, especially when in different forms altogether. It's not something he expected for his baby brother and he feels his heart warm at the display – which he promptly pushes down to focus on the war currently playing out in Gryffindor.

As if you two reached an agreement through just that look, you butted your head against Regulus’ cheek while he nodded. Carefully, he manoeuvred you into his arms and plopped you down on the armrest of Remus’ chair, and disappeared from sight to a secluded corner of the common room.

“What in Merlin’s name just happened?” Sirius mused out loud, exchanging bemused glances with James who plopped down beside him.

“Oh, I’m sure it was nothing good.” Remus smiled through his words as he freed one of his hands to scratch under your chin, causing you to purr and brush your feline body closer to his arm. Sirius would be remiss if he didn’t think the sight of pure love between you two wasn’t adorable, but to hells if he would admit it before you two reached a truce. 

Your purring was interrupted as you let out a soft prrt! for seemingly no apparent reason, and reached up to give Remus’ cheek a soft cat kiss – that made the boy’s face crinkle into a smile – before jumping down onto the floor. There, Sirius saw the reason for your joy and felt his heart drop in his chest.

“Oh, hi, Shadow,” Remus greeted the black cat that made a beeline for you on the floor, brushing his body against yours with soft purrs. “Come to join in on your brother’s torment?”

“Absolutely not–” Sirius started, but before he could get up and out of his seat, both cats had jumped up onto his legs and made their way to his lap. “What are you guys doing? Get off?!”

James was giggling once more beside him and Sirius had half a mind to throw the cats at him and run away. Though, he was beginning to doubt whether he would be able to as he saw the determination in Regulus’ eyes.

“I believe they’re making you eat your words, love.” The smile in Remus’ voice was so evident that had he not been as handsome as he was, Sirius would have smacked him.

His arms were frozen at his sides, hands hovering in the air, unsure of where to go as he watched the two cats settle down in his lap in horror. Your bodies were horizontal with his and flush against each other’s, becoming liquid in the cuddle puddle you were currently creating.

Sirius tried hissing at you to no avail as Regulus only slapped him with his paw in response. He tried shifting slightly to push you off, but you buried your claws through the fabric of his trousers – Sirius would give Remus a run for his money as the scarred one of the group after you were finished with him. He tried looking to James and Remus for help, but neither boy were willing as they took far too much enjoyment in the show. Remus at least pretended not to as he “read”, but James was fully angled towards him to see the events unfold, shoulders shaking with mirth. 

A sigh escaped Sirius as he accepted his fate. “I hate you lot,” he said decisively. “Each and every one of you.”

Regulus made a noise that sounded like it was in disagreement with his statement while Remus just hummed. James nodded his head as if to say “fair”.

You, however, picked your head up from where it was resting over Regulus’ and just stared at Sirius. Usually he felt like he could read you quite well in feline form, which he assumed was due to some skills of Padfoot’s transferring over, but right now you were impossible to understand. You held his gaze head on, almost as if you were studying him, but your breaths were coming so slowly you had to be calm, right? Though this forced proximity was clearly a form of punishment, you were growing comfortable. Was he forgiven?

His train of thought was interrupted as the staring competition you had for a few seconds was interrupted – by you blinking. Slowly. Keeping your gaze on him but fully closing your eyes intermittently.

A slow grin spread across Sirius’ face.

He didn’t know a lot about cats and he principally disliked them. But he did know what that meant.

“Yeah, yeah, princess,” he mumbled as his cheeks almost grew a bit red. “You too.”

[birdiewritessometimes]

You're too good to me - M. Riddle x Gryffindor! reader

A/N: Hii, this is my first Mattheo fan fic, i hope you enjoy it! I don't own any of the characters. English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes i might have made. I'm not that happy with the end but oh well!

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Gryffindor! reader

Themes/warnings: Fluff, slight angst, Harry and Ron being assholes hihi, slightly suggestive, cursing, one fight with the mention of blood

Word count: 14 000-ish (it's a long one)

Edit: I just edited some mistakes I noticed that i made language wise, oh and i gave it a title hihi <3

Please do not copy or translate my work!

Enjoy!

It was the last lesson before dinner, potions with the Slytherins. It was a gloomy day, the autumn weather making yet an appearance on this Monday afternoon in mid-October. The castle was cold, as it usually was this time of year, making you shiver. It didn’t help that you were in the dungeons, they were usually much colder than the rest of the castle. You pulled your Gryffindor robes tighter around you, as to shield yourself from the cold that was seeping out of the stones. You had taken your usual seat next to one of your friends, Hermione.

“Did you see that Harry and Mattheo Riddle got into a fight again?” She asked in a hushed voice. You shook your head no.

“What, why? Are they hurt?” You whispered back with a worried note in your voice.

“They didn’t fight fight, they argued really bad, just now! Before class.” Hermione explained as you shook your head. Although you’ve never really spoken to Mattheo before you didn’t understand their problem with one another. You couldn’t even remember what started it, but ever since first year they’ve been butting heads, getting into fights, taunting each other. Ron was no better, he would back Harry up whenever he would fight Mattheo, whether it was physical, or verbal didn’t matter. You and Hermione tried to stay out of it, neither of you had any opinion on the boy that was Mattheo Riddle, now Draco was a different story. He would take any opportunity to be mean to either of you, using it to get a rise out of Harry and Ron. Mattheo didn’t do that.

“Really? Do you know about what?” You replied to Hermione, she just had time to shake her head no before Snape walked in, effectively silencing everyone.

“Probably the usual.” Hermione whispered silently before turning to Snape to listen. The usual. The usual consisted of taunts such as ‘you suck Potter’ which was usually answered with ‘tell that to your pathetic family’ or ‘oh look an apprentice death eater’ which was most of the time answered with ‘at least I have a future cupboard boy’ if it wasn’t answered with fists. How Mattheo knew about the cupboard you had no idea.

“Today you will be divided into pairs to work on a particularly complicated potion.” Snapes voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He started to list the pairs in a bored sort of voice. Your attention piqued when you heard him call out your name.

“Miss l/n and Mr Riddle.” You looked around the classroom, trying to find him when you noticed that his eyes already were locked on you, an unreadable expression on his face. He sat in the back of the class, next to a boy you knew as Lorenzo Berkshire, you had worked with him before in arithmancy. You gave Mattheo a small, nervous smile before turning back to listen to Snapes instructions. If you were being honest, you were a bit nervous to work with him considering his dislike for your friends but when Snape finished talking, you walked up to him like he was any other student. You stretched your hand out to him and gave him a smile as you took a seat in the chair Lorenzo previously sat in.

“Hi, I’m y/n, looks like were partners for today.” You said as he shook your hand lazily.

“Yeah, whatever, just try to keep up” he said in a bored tone as he started to prepare the ingredients. You let out a rather, in your opinion, unattractive snort at his comment. He gave you a questioning look which made you realise that he didn’t listen to Snape in the beginning of the lesson.

“You know he paired us up based on how well we’ve been doing in class… so we should be at the same level.” You said with an amused expression on you face as you started to get your book and the rest of the ingredients.

“So, I think I’m going to keep up just fine.” You mocked his voice at ‘keep up’ and you don’t know where the confidence came from to tease him but when he let out a small huff and the smallest smile you’ve ever seen someone make you knew you were getting through his icy exterior.

“You think you’re funny huh?” He said, now adorning a smirk on his handsome face. You gave a small laugh at that.

“Oh, I know I’m funny, yeah, people tell me so all the time. Question is, can you keep up with me?” You joked as you started to stir the cauldron the specific number of stirs as he added ingredients. He let out a low chuckle at that before leaning in into your space. His cologne hit your nose from how close he was. He smelled like sandalwood, nicotine and mint. Why did he have to smell so good?

“We’re just getting started, love, let’s find out, yeah?” Did someone just turn up the heat? The coldness you felt moments ago was gone and replaced with the heat that radiated from his body. You felt a blush form on your cheeks from the pet name and his proximity. His smirk widened when he noticed your pink cheeks.

“Looks like I won’t have a problem keeping up after all, love.” He joked as he turned back to adding ingredients to the potion while you stirred. The lesson went by quicker than you thought, talking and joking with Mattheo. Turns out that he was, dare you say, sweet once he was given a chance, in his own Mattheo-esque way of course. He was also unbelievably flirty, it seemed like it was his personal mission to make you blush as much as he could. If he didn’t grip your hand to make you stir in a specific way, he would call you ‘love’ as much as he could. At the end of the lesson, you helped each other to tidy up your supplies, laughing about how Snape looked exactly like an overgrown bat when he swooped through the halls. You felt weirdly comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for ages and not just for an hour.

“Good job today, Mattheo, I had really fun with you and I’m glad we managed to get the potion right.” You said with a smile as you placed your hand on his arm.

“Thanks love, you did really well today, keeping me on my toes and all.” He said with a smirk at the blush that crept up on your cheeks. You were about to reply when Ron’s shouting interrupted you.

“Y/n, are you coming today or? I’m starving!” Mattheo rolled his eyes at Ron, you gave Mattheo an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I’m coming! See you, Mattheo.” You said, still with that apologetic smile and then you went to Ron who was waiting by the door with Hermione and Harry, what you didn’t see was the glares the boys sent to each other.

“So, how was it to work with the evil spawn?” Ron asked nonchalantly as you were walking towards the great hall. You frowned at the nick name while Harry let out a laugh.

“I’ll let you know Ron, that Mattheo was really nice to work with.” You said emphasizing ‘Mattheo’. You didn’t like to be dragged into the conflicts Harry and Ron had with people. The only time you did meddle in the drama of this school was in second year when you punched Draco Malfoy on the nose for calling Hermione a mudblood. You didn’t take it well when people were mean for no reason.

“And I don’t like it when you call him that.” You said with a frown as your group rounded a corner, walking up a flight of stairs. Ron and Harry huffed at your defence of the Slytherin boy.

“Oh, you can’t be serious, he’s evil incarnated y/n! He is literally you know whose son, it’s in his blood.” Ron rolled his eyes as Harry nodded in agreement. Hermione huffed in annoyance at the argument that was taking place.

“Just because he is related to you know who doesn’t make him a bad person either! Really Ron, judging people based on blood sounds a tad bit familiar, doesn’t it?” You said, a growing frustration in your voice as you crossed your arms in annoyance at the boy.

“Oh, you’re only saying that because you think he is hot, like all the other girls in this place! You be careful y/n, he will use you if you let him get too close.” Harry added.

“Yeah, he’s only nice to you because he wants to get in your pants!” Ron let out, gesturing wildly with his hands, his own frustrations clearly showing.

“Oh really? Yes, because being partners in potions will definitely lead to sex, as a matter of fact, we’ve already fucked! Ron, did you not see us fucking on the table in potions earlier? I’m sure you saw it Harry, you were right behind us! Oh, wait, that didn’t happen because we were doing the assignment, not each other!” You snapped, letting out your frustrations as the doors to the great hall neared. What you didn’t know was that Mattheo and his friends were walking well within hearing distance from your group, intently listening to the fight you were having with your friends.

“He will weasel his way into your bed, he’s not nice, he is manipulative and you’re falling for it!” Ron accused you as you were now making your way towards Ginny at the Gryffindor table.

“Ron! Insinuating that I will sleep with anyone that is nice to me is really hurtful!” You said, feeling hurt by his words.

“Hey, can we please not fight?” Hermione pleaded as she took a seat next to you and Ginny, who looked confused.

“What are you fighting about?” Ginny asked curiously. Fights amongst your group wasn’t that common, small squabbles, sure, but fights as ugly as this one was becoming had only happened about once or twice in all your years of friendship.

“Ron and Harry being pricks.” You said.

“Evil incarnated” Ron said at the exact same time. Hermione sighed. Ginny let out a chuckle. Harry scoffed.

“What did you do?” She asked, making Ron let out a displeased grunt and Harry an annoyed groan.

“He basically said that the only reason I was defending Mattheo, whom I worked with in potions today, was because I think he is hot” You pointed an accusing finger at Harry.

“And he” You pointed at Ron now “accused me of spreading my legs for anyone that’s nice to me. All because I asked Ronald not to call Mattheo evil spawn, because he was nice to me.” You said, frustration evident in your voice. Ginny gasped.

“It’s true, he’s not a good person y/n! He’s a Riddle!” Ron argued, this time Harry chimed in agreement. You felt tears of frustration pool your eyes.

“I swear if that is your only evidence that he isn’t a good person I’m going hex you. You have no right saying that he isn’t a good person when you don’t know him. What, you base your brilliant deduction from the fact that he fights you, just as you fight him? And you definitely have no right telling me that the only reason I’m defending him is because I find him ‘hot’ and will let him in my bed because he is nice to me, what is wrong with you?!” You burst out. Tears slowly rolling down your cheeks, you hated that you cried when you were angry.

“And you!” You turned to Hermione, hurt that she didn’t at least attempt to back you up.

“Thank you so much for having my back…” You said sarcastically before raising from your seat and storming off. You walked to your dorm, making a beeline for the kitchens to get something to snack on, since you had left dinner before actually eating something. When you got to your dorm you threw your bag on the bed in frustration and changed into some pyjamas. You dried your tears as you put on a long-sleeved shirt and some flannel pyjama pants. Grabbing the snacks you went into the common room again; it was fairly empty since it still was dinnertime. Not feeling like hanging around there you went through the portrait hole and started to make your way towards the astronomy tower. Some air might do you some good. When you finally made it there you sat down and watched the stars as you snacked. You weren’t sure how much time had passed as you sat there thinking about the fight with your friends when you heard voices coming from the entrance of the tower. When you turned around you saw that the voices belonged to the very boy you were fighting about, and his three friends: Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire and Blaise Zabini. You stared at each other for a moment.

“Princess, what are you doing here?” It was Mattheo who broke the silence.

“Princess?” You, Theodore, Lorenzo and Blaise all questioned at the same time. Mattheo shrugged nonchalantly and sauntered up to where you were sitting on the floor.

“You mind if we join you, darling?” He gestured to the space next to you, you nodded for him to join you, and he sat down next to you, his friends still standing by the entrance in shock of how their friend is behaving.

“You’re trying out different pet names?” you asked with a small smile, he bumped your shoulder with his as he took out a pack of cigarettes, wordlessly offering you one. You declined with a small shake of your head.

“Just trying to figure out which ones makes you get that adorable blush the most.” He said with a cheeky smile as he put the cigarette between his lips.

“Oi, are you dickheads going to stand there all night like fools or are you coming?” He asked over his shoulder to his friends, who all sprang into action. They sat down so that you were sitting in a circle of sorts.

“Princess, dickheads, dickheads, princess.” Mattheo introduced you to his friends, cigarette dangling dangerously from his lips, you let out a snort at that.

“Oh wow, thank you for that extremely informative introduction, Mattheo.” You said sarcastically with an eye roll and then introduced yourself to the two boys you hadn’t met before. He just gave you a cheeky wink and lit his cigarette. The boys started chatting about random stuff as they smoked, you opted to listen rather than speak. You were in a particularly deep thought about the fight with your friends when a hand waved in front of your eyes.

“Huh? Sorry! What did you say?” You asked Theo who had asked you a question.

“I was just asking how it was to work with this idiot in potions today?” He asked again, a small laugh escaped you at his question.

“It was fun, except from that he was so moody in the beginning. ‘Yeah, whatever, just try to keep up’” You mocked him again, making you voice deeper to sound like him, he groaned at your teasing and his friends chuckled.

“Hey, in my defence I thought you were going to be real snarky and mean since you’re friends with Potter and Weasley.” He said with his hands up, half smoked cigarette hanging from his fingers. You frowned at the mention of your friends, the hurt from the fight still raw.

“Yeah, I get that. For the record, I don’t take part in their beefs with people in this school. Well, I did one time, but I don’t like it.” You said shaking your head, Mattheo smiled at you.

“Well, you got me curious now, when did you take part in that sort of drama?” Enzo asked as he looked at you expectantly. You blushed hard at this.

“Oh, I don’t really talk about it.” You mumbled, embarrassed at what you did in second year.

“Oh, please y/n, please tell us.” The boys pleaded with you.

“Okay, fine, ipunchedmalfoyforcallinghermioneabadthing” you said it all in one breath.

“What?”

“Huh?”

“Slower.”

“I punched Malfoy for calling Hermione a bad thing… in second year. I didn’t want to tell you since he’s your friend.” You said, much slower this time. It was quiet for a moment before the guys burst out laughing.

“Omg, that was you?? In second year yeah? Oh my days! He told us it was a guy; you gave him a nosebleed!!” Blaise barked out as he was clutching his stomach.

“Don’t worry darling, we’re not that close with him anyways.” Mattheo assured you between laughter, bumping your shoulder with his again, to which you gave him a grateful smile.

“He said it was a guy who punched him?” You wondered, a small laugh escaping you.

“Yes, he did, he even bragged about him beating the guy up worse.” Enzo added, wheezing as he dried the tears that escaped his eyes.

“What? Nooo he ran away crying.” You said now giggling along with the guys, who got into another laughing fit at that piece of new information.

“Whooo, get yourself a girl who can pack punches,” Theo said, making you blush.

“Well, I defend my friends.” You shrugged, a smile on your lips.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for that by the way.” Mattheo said after the laughter calmed down, the guys humming in understanding. You, however, were confused.

“What for punching Malfoy?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Mattheo let out a chuckle at your confusion.

“No, for defending me when your friends talked shit, after potions.” He said, a small smile on his handsome face. You felt the blush come back.

“You heard that?” You squeaked, hands coming up to cover your cheeks, the group let out a chuckle. Memories about you saying that you fucked on a table flooded your brain as embarrassment hit.

“Yeah, we were, uh, right behind you sweetheart.” Mattheo said with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. You were hiding your face in your hands now, only peeking through your fingers.

“Omg, kill me now!” You muttered, feeling completely mortified.

“I must say, my favourite part was definitely the ‘fucking on the table’ part, it really got your point across.” He said and the group laughed at that.

“We were doing the assignment, not each other.” He mocked you, adding to your embarrassment. The rest of the boys laughed at this too.

“Oh shut up!” You squeaked again, still feeling very embarrassed by your choice of words.

“No, but seriously, thank you for defending me, I hope you didn’t fight too bad with your friends.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. His friends, who had calmed down form their laughing fit, were watching your interaction with curiosity.

“Yeah, of course. Please don’t worry about my idiot friends.” You said, glancing down at your slipper clad feet as you rubbed your arms, feeling the cool night air seep through your shirt.

“I can’t help but feel a little responsible…” Mattheo trailed of as he took his hoodie of and draped it around your shoulders, you gave him a small smile as a thanks. His friends looked at each other with surprise at Mattheos behaviour. He was known to be quite the flirt, using girls and then going to the next one. Never had they seen him give his sweaters to any girl, or come to second thought, interact with a girl like he was with you.

“You did nothing wrong Mattheo, Ron was out of line, he said some nasty things, Harry too and Hermione didn’t do anything so…” You said as you shrugged on his hoodie properly, the garment wrapping you in a blanket of warmth and his scent.

“What did he say, if you don’t mind me asking? I skipped potions today” Theo asked cautiously, you gave him a sad smile. Secretly grateful for the fact that his friends didn’t gossip about what had happened.

“So, Ron called Mattheo a bad name, I asked him not to call him that, then Harry basically said that the only reason I was defending him was because I thought that he was hot, and Ron insinuated that I would sleep with anyone that was nice to me. That really hurt my feelings and the fact that they doubled down on that when Ginny asked what was going on hurt even more.” It was quiet when you finished, Theo looked shocked to say the least, the rest of the boys looked angry, having heard the argument in real life.

“Potter and Weasley really said that? To their friend?” Theo then asked in disbelief as you nodded in confirmation.

“Well, they’re prats, but we already knew that.” He then said, making you laugh at how bizarre the whole situation is. Here you were hanging out with the group how almost caused as much trouble as the twins, you were hanging out with the very boy you had defended hours before. It’s funny, because you weren’t known to be a troublemaker, you opted to put your energy into studying, achieving great grades instead. You couldn’t be more opposite these boys, yet here you were, enjoying the time you’re spending with them.

“They’re not even prats, they’re like proper twats.” You laughed, making the others laugh with you this time.

“You know y/n, you’re pretty cool, for being a Gryffindor and all.” Blaise said with a teasing smile.

“Oh, thank you, you guys are really sweet, for being Slytherins that is.” You teased right back.

“Sweet? Sweet?? What are we? Six years old?” Mattheo said, incredulously, the others nodded along with his teasing.

“Yes, you guys are the sweetest bad boys I’ve ever met.” You said, pinching his cheek in a teasing manner. They all jokingly groaned at that. Then you fell into an easy conversation with the group, the boys successfully cheered you up by taking your mind of the fight. They made you feel welcome in their little group, despise you being in a different house than them, you understood that even if you didn’t care about houses others did. You were well aware of their reputation in the school. They were troublemakers, didn’t follow rules, fought whoever ticked them off. People were wary of them, not wanting to get on their bad side and the people who weren’t wary of them disliked them. Your friends were a part of that second group of people. The group of Slytherin boys were also knows to be quite the flirts, being successful with a majority of the girls in school. Your train of thought were cut short when you realised the time.

“Oh, guys we need to get to bed, we have classes in the morning!” You exclaimed, rising to your feet in a hurry. The rest of the group rose lazily, some putting out their cigarettes before casually strolling down the stairs. You were however feeling a bit stressed due to the time and the fact that you were out of bed after curfew, but the boys were as cool as ever. When it came to where you were supposed to part ways to get to your respective common rooms you all hesitated for a moment. Just as you were about to say something Mattheo spoke.

“I’ll walk you to your common room, love.” He said in a low voice, making your eyes widen, so did the rest of the groups. Before you could reply, or even say goodnight to the rest Mattheo put his hand on the small of your back and started to guide you towards the portrait hole. His hand was warm and heavy against the small of your back, only the thick fabric of your his sweater acting as a barrier between the two of you. His hand hung low on your back, it was borderline inappropriate, and you felt your cheeks heat up because of it. You were almost disappointed when the fat lady came into view, shaking the feeling away you turned to him when you reached the top of the stairs.

“Thank you for cheering me up tonight, Mattheo.” You murmured and gave him a small smile; he smiled right back at you. You began to take his hoodie off, to give it back to him when he stopped you by grabbing your wrists. His large hands engulfing your smaller ones.

“Keep it princess.” He murmured and you felt your cheeks warm for what must be the 458th time this evening. You don’t know what came over you, was it his warm hands holding yours? Or was it the low, intimate lighting and the fact that it was in the middle of the night? You don’t know. What you did know was that fact that you rose to the very tips of your toes, your cheeks flushing even harder from what you were about to do and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. His hands were still holding yours as you felt them tense a little. You muttered a soft ‘good night’ into his ear before slipping out of his grip and going through the portrait hole. The small butterflies that resided in your stomach erupted into a storm when the portrait swung closed. You made your way towards your dorm, the common room was completely empty, not unusual considering the time. You snuck into your bed, still feeling giddy, and laid there as you thought about the boy who was Mattheo Riddle. What you didn’t know was that he was thinking about you as he walked back to his common room in the middle of the night.

The next morning you awoke to an empty dorm, you assumed Hermione had left for breakfast with Harry and Ron. You got dressed and headed down towards the great hall for breakfast. When you entered you saw the trio already sitting there eating their breakfast, your usual seat beside Harry was empty. You opted to sit with Ginny and the twins, not feeling like talking to your friends. When you sat down you made eye contact with Theo from across the hall. You gave him a smile and a small wave to which he nodded back at you, with a small smile on his face. He was sitting with his friends; Mattheo was missing from the group however. Before you could even begin to wonder where he was Ginny interrupted you.

“Since when do you know Theodore Nott?” She leaned over with a glint in her eye, having noticed the interaction. You gave her a startled laugh.

“Well, I sort of ran into him his friends yesterday after dinner.” You said with a small smile on your lips. Your cheeks turned the slightest pink as thoughts of Mattheo entered your head.

“So that’s what you were doing?” Fred asked, amusement clear in his voice.

“We missed you in the common room last night.” George mused.

“Oh please, you guys just wanted a new test subject for your new products.” You said with an eyeroll before taking a bite out of your toast.

“Of course not y/n! We wanted to hang out with our favourite goody two shoes.” Fred said, throwing his arm around your shoulders with a smirk on his face. You let out a snort at that.

“But seriously, we want to know everything.” George said, curiosity getting the better of him.

“When you met.” Fred continued.

“How you met.” George said.

“What you did.” Ginny added at the end.

“You guys are the biggest gossips I know.” You said in feigned annoyance with a smile before telling them about how you went to the astronomy tower to think. How they showed up to what was apparently their usual spot for smoking. How you had met Mattheo just hours before in potions. You told them how they cheered you up from the fight with your friends who sat just a couple of seats away. The twins had heard about the fight from Ginny and when you gave them a small recap, they assured you that they gave Ron a piece of their mind. They even said that Ron was blacklisted from Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes, making you smile at the fact that they had your back. You told them that you were up until late after curfew due to how much fun you were having. You didn’t however tell them about how Mattheo gave you butterflies or how you kissed his cheek when he had walked you to the common room.

“What?” George said in disbelief.

“You’re telling me that they got you to stay out until after curfew? You? Little goody two shoes y/n? Never broken a school rule before. This is something else! I recon we should thank these guys, George!” Fred said, not believing his ears. You let out a laugh at this.

“You guys act like I’m some nun! Anyways, I got to get to class.” You said as you got your things and rose to your feet. Fred and George let out comically large sighs at this, making Ginny giggle.

“Doesn’t seem like they made her relaxed enough to not be five minutes early to every class.” Fred groaned.

“You can’t win them all.” George added dramatically. You rolled your eyes with a smile and then with a wave goodbye started to make your way towards your first class of the day. You were glad that the twins and Ginny at least didn’t seem to have a problem with your new friends. The classes dragged on and on until lunch, you were too preoccupied with thinking about your new friends, how nice they were to you. When finally, your last lesson before lunch ended, you quickly packed up your things and made your way out of the classroom. When you exited the classroom, you bumped into Enzo who was exiting the classroom right besides yours.

“Oh, hi y/n, heading to the great hall?” He asked with a smile, silently gesturing for you to join him.

“Hi Enzo, yeah just finished ancient runes, what about you?” You asked, falling into step with him.

“Yeah, I just had history of magic.” He answered. The two of you fell into an easy conversation about school and the classes you were talking as you made your way towards the great hall. As you walked and talked with Enzo you noticed that people were looking warily at you, well more at the boy you were walking with. You noticed some glares and some apprehensive looks. Enzo seemed unbothered by the looks, completely consumed by his rant about how divination is a load of crap.

“Hey, Enzo, can I ask you a question?” You had interrupted him before you could stop yourself. He nodded, looking curious to your shift in demeanour.

“How come you guys are so nice to me?” You voiced a thought that had drifted in your head during the morning.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I mean, considering who my friends are, it would be easy to not like me either.” You said, a small frown making its way to your lips. Enzo gave a small smile at that.

“Yeah, but you have always been nice, well of course except to Malfoy but who cares, don’t you remember when we worked together in arithmancy in third year and instead of laughing at me for not understanding, like some would’ve done, you helped me instead?” Enzo explained as you rounded a corner.

“It was the same with Matt, you were kind to him despite his reputation and his family, you even stood up for him when you barley knew him. That is why I, at least, like you.” He said with a smile on his lips. You looked at him shocked, you did remember when you had worked with Enzo, he had a problem with understanding certain things, but that’s not something to laugh about is it? Just as you were about to open your mouth Mattheo and Theo joined you.

“Hey, what are you guys talking about?” Theo asked casually throwing an arm over your shoulders, his other over Enzos. Mattheo walked on the other side of you. You snapped out of your trance at this and directed a chuckle at the boys antics.

“Nothing really, I just met y/n after history of magic.” Enzo shrugged as he gave you a small smile that told you that your conversation would stay with him, you gave him a smile back.

“Oh, so you weren’t talking about how someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves yesterday then?” Mattheo said in a sing song voice, obviously his question hinted at the kiss you had given him outside of your common room. You gripped his arm and gave him a warning squeeze to not say anything, but he just gave you a teasing smirk.

“Why would we talk about you obviously not keeping your hands to yourself?” Enzo deadpanned; Theo let out a laugh at that.

“Princess, you don’t have to leave.”

“Here darling, take my hoodie.”

“You’re so pretty under the stars, love.” The boys mocked their friend who let out a dramatic gasp. You laughed as you felt your blush rise on your face.

“I did not say that!” Mattheo let out in disbelief.

“You so did!” Enzo countered.

“No, I was obviously talking about y/n not being able to keep her hands of me, she even kissed me!” Mattheo let out in light frustration, waving his arms around. The boys paused right in front of the doors to the great hall. It was quiet for a moment before they let out a laugh so loud it drew the attention of all the people in the great hall as they entered.

“Yeah, right!” Theo said.

“Like that happened.” Enzo continued and Mattheo sputtered in shock that his friends didn’t believe him, when he looked at you, he saw that you giggled at this.

“Oh, you think this is funny? Now be a good girl and tell them the truth.” Mattheo said with a smirk as he grabbed your face to make you look him directly in the eyes, your blush making yet an appearance. Theos arm fell of your shoulders as you stared into Mattheos deep brown eyes. His presence invaded your senses, his smell, his warmth. His eyes were soft, but his smirk was prominent on his face. Your expression spoke for itself, and the boys let out sounds of disbelief when they realised that you did actually kiss him.

“What?”

“No way?”

“With his fugly mug?” You let out a laugh at Theos comment before you broke the eye contact with Mattheo and effectively breaking the trance he had put you in.

“On the cheek, I kissed him goodnight on the cheek, gosh you guys are so dramatic!” You corrected with a smile was on your lips. They spluttered as they tried to disagree with your statement. You laughed as you turned to walk towards the Gryffindor table, not before you gave the boys a cheesy smile and a wave goodbye. When you sat down beside Ginny and opposite the twins the group was awfully quiet. When you looked up from your plate you saw that the three of them looked at you with knowing smirks plastered on their faces.

“What?” you asked, your voice squeaking from the attention.

“Don’t you ‘what’ us! What was that all about?” George asked curiously. You gave a small laugh to try to cover up your embarrassment.

“I was just walking to lunch, with Mattheo, Enzo and Theo.” You said with a shrug as you took a bite of your lunch, feigning innocence.

“Not that! The whole almost kissing Riddle thing!” Fred said teasingly. You hadn’t realised that the whole school had seen when Mattheo had grabbed your face, and you certainly hadn’t realised that it looked like he was about to kiss you.

“We were not about to kiss!” You said incredulously. The three of them exchanged knowing glances before continuing to tease you about Mattheo.

It had been three days since that one incident in the great hall, it was now Friday and you were doing some studying in the library, or well, trying to since you ran into Mattheo on the way there. He insisted on joining your study session, what you didn’t know at the time was that it was to bother you while you studied.

“What about this one?” He asked as he held up a tube of lip gloss from your makeup bag. You had opened it to get some lip balm, and it had piqued the Slytherins interest, make up was probably more interesting than the essay he had to write for defence against the dark arts.

“That is lip gloss Mattheo, it makes your lips shine.” You said as you tried to concentrate on the book of ancient runes in front of you. You heard that he put the product back in your little bag and then you felt his presence closer to you. You turned to him to find him staring right back at you. Those butterflies erupted in your stomach again as they did so often when you were with Mattheo. He was staring at you intently, his soft brown eyes traced the outline of your face, your eyes, your nose, your lips, back to your eyes.

“You know you’re beautiful without it right?” He muttered as his eyes continued to trace your face. You didn’t register what he was saying as you were watching him too, your eyes mapping his face, where his scar crossed his eyebrow. The tiny scar on the bridge of his nose, before you knew it you had reached out, your fingers softly tracing the scar across his eye. Mattheo was still staring at you with those Bambi-eyes of his.

“Where did you get this?” You whispered, your fingers still tracing the scar on his face. His eyes never left yours as his hand moved up to his face to cover yours, giving it a soft squeeze. Your palm was flat against his cheek now, feeling his warm skin, while his large hand was covering yours.

“It’s nothing.” He murmured, closing his eyes. The intimate moment made you feel like you were going to explode. He was so close, so intoxicating, his warmth was like an embrace, his scent of mint, nicotine and sandalwood had become familiar, but no less addicting. When he opened his eyes he looked right at you, his gaze soft and gentle. The moment between you were interrupted by footsteps that was coming your way. He let go of your hand which you let fall to your lap. You both then turned back to your respective work, Mattheo actually doing the work this time. It was Hermione who rounded the corner to your table.

“Do you mind if I sit?” She asked carefully, you gave a wary smile and gestured for her to sit. You cast a sideways glance at Mattheo and saw that he wore a stoic look on his face, his eyes trained on Hermione.

“I’m really sorry that I didn’t defend you y/n, I really am!” Hermione let out when she had sat down, and you felt like some of the weight that had been on your shoulders lifted. You gave a smile before reaching over the table to give your friend a hug.

“Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me!” You said as you sat back down in your chair.

“Besides, I’ve really missed you.” You said as you smiled at each other.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Hermione meet Mattheo, Mattheo, Hermione.” You introduced them and they nodded at each other, a bit awkwardly. Mattheos face did soften a bit at Hermione’s apology. After dinner you and Hermione hung out in your shared dorm, Ginny had joined you after a while. The hot topic that was being discussed was your newfound friendship with the Slytherin boys. Ginny was happily filling Hermione in on the details about a certain boy that you conveniently left out.

“They did sit rather close to each other in the library earlier…” Hermione thought out loud, Ginny let out a squeal at this piece of new information.

“Oh! Hermione I didn’t tell you about how he was about to kiss her in the great hall!” Ginny said excitedly. You spluttered at that.

“He did not try to kiss me, Ginny! You can’t just say that!” You said your voice high pitched with embarrassment.

“What did he do then y/n?” Hermione asked an amused smirk playing on her lips, Ginny was practically bouncing on your bed with excitement as she explained the moment between the two of you.

“It was nothing!” You said shyly.

“It was totally something!!” Ginny exclaimed excitedly.

“It did sound like something y/n! Come on you can at least admit that you think he’s cute.” Hermione said teasingly, you kept quiet for a moment, deliberating whether you should answer or not. You did think that Mattheo was cute, of course you did. He is stunning, curly hair, dark brown eyes, charming smile, those butterflies erupted in your stomach again.

“Okay, fine, yes he is cute.” You let out in defeat and the girls let out squeals of excitement.

“I knew it!” Ginny let out in triumph as you and Hermione laughed at her but before either of you could reply a knock could be heard at the door. Still chuckling from the previous conversation, you hopped of your bed and went to open the door. Outside of your dorm was a shy first year. Taken aback by the little boy you stuck your head out of your door to look around.

“Can I, uh help you?” You asked curiously while looking at the boy who was too shy to meet your eyes. He quickly thrusted a note in your hands before taking of, running away. You held on to the note, utterly confused as you closed your door and turned back to your friends.

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know, a note.” You replied as you showed them the note.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Read it!” Ginny urged. You unfolded the note and sat down on your bed again, Ginny and Hermione coming closer to read it over your shoulder.

“Evening darling,

I was hoping you would get your little butt out of your dorm and join us for a smoke in the astronomy tower (I know you don’t smoke but I would love some company since I can feel myself loosing IQ-points from hanging out with the guys for too long). I’m waiting for you outside of the portrait.

- M.R.

P.S. get a sweater, it’s cold out”

Ginny and Hermione squealed in excitement as they shook your shoulders.

“Oh, you have to go y/n!!!” Ginny said excitedly.

“Yes, have fun on your dateeee!” Hermione said in a sing song voice as she threw Mattheos sweater in your face.

“It’s not a date, the others will probably be there too.” You defended as you subconsciously slipped on his sweater and put on your slippers. The girls practically pushed you out of your dorm, giggling like mad men as they closed the door behind you. With a smile and shake of your head you started to head towards the exit of the common room. When you exited the portrait, you paused at the scene in front of you. Harry and Ron had Mattheo cornered, the latter looking more agitated by the second.

“I don’t care, Riddle” Harry spat his name “you’re outside my common room, so I believe it is my business.”

“And I don’t care that it’s your common room, it’s none of your business, Potter” Mattheo spat back. He was a good deal taller than Harry, just a couple of centimetres above Ron. He was staring down on them, with a glare so intense it sent shivers down your spine. This was the Mattheo the rest of the school saw, cold, irritated, bad-tempered Mattheo, not the nice, caring boy you saw.

“If you think you’re here to see y/n you have another thing coming.” Ron gritted out through clenched teeth. Harry nodded in agreement and Mattheo clenched his jaw in annoyance. You noticed the shift in the air as Ron said this. Mattheo looked almost angry now, not wanting the situation to escalate you let your presence be known.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You spoke as you walked around them and placed yourself in front of Mattheo, reaching your hand back to grab his, in what you thought would be a comforting manner. Harry and Ron looked shocked at what you said.

“Wait, y/n you’re taking his side again?” Harry said with a scoff.

“Well, was he doing anything wrong when you got here?” You asked annoyed with their behaviour, it was Ron who scoffed this time. Remembering his thoughts as to why you defended Mattheo the last time you spoke you whirled on him.

“You got something to say, Ron?” You asked, your own irritation bubbling up to the surface. You could feel a grounding squeeze on your hand by Mattheo. You gave him a thankful look.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact I do! It’s clear why you’re defending him, he has clearly gotten in your pants! He’s playing with you, he is using you y/n, how can you be so stupid not to see that?” Ron let out his frustration. It felt like time stopped. It felt like your heart shattered when you heard Ron, your friend since first year, utter those words. You felt tears well up in your eyes.

“Ron, you’re so out of line.” You said through your tears, and you felt Mattheo move to stand beside you, his hand moving from yours to your back, rubbing comforting circles there to soothe you. He was giving Ron an icy glare as he comforted you as your tears now flowed freely.

“You better watch your mouth, Weasley.” He said, his tone cold.

“Hey, don’t threaten him!” Harry said, taking his friends side, Mattheo let out a cold, slow laugh at Harrys reaction.

“Oh, that’s really something, Potter. I knew you were a git, but I thought that you treated your friends better than this. You should be glad that y/n is here, otherwise I would beat the shit out of you two for saying shit like this.” Mattheo said angrily before taking you had in his and leading you away from them. Tears were streaming down your face at your friends words, you could hear that Harry and Ron were saying something behind you, but you couldn’t hear what, your ears were ringing. When you rounded a corner Mattheo stopped you. He pulled you into an embrace and ran his hand up and down you back in a comforting manner as you cried into his chest. Slowly the tears came to a stop and you peaked up at him, he gave you a worried look.

“I’m sorry” You mumbled, feeling embarrassed for crying on him, he gave you a small smile

“You, my love, have nothing to be sorry for. Now for Weasley and Potter it’s a different story.” You could see how his face went cold when he talked about them and you could feel how his grip on your waist tightened. He then did something that shocked you, he placed a kiss on your forehead. For him it seemed like it was the most natural thing in the world as he pulled you into his arms again, but it made your brain short-circuit. You could feel how he rested his head atop of yours as he held you. You let yourself relax in his arms for a moment before slightly pulling away again and looking up at him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his eyes soft again, as he brought his hand up to your face to wipe away the last remaining tears there.

“I’ve been better?” It came out more as a question as you were more focused on his large, warm palm on your face. He gave you a small smile and a chuckle slipped out from his lips.

“We don’t have to hang out with the others if you don’t want to…” He said tenderly as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You shook your head, giving the boy a small smile.

“No, I think some cheering up could do me good.” You said. You were still heartbroken from Rons words. That’s the thing with Ron, he will find the most hurtful things to say when he is mad at someone.

“Alright then, but if you want to go you let me know, okay?” He said, grabbing your face with both of his hands searching your face for any uncertainty. You gave a small smile and nodded. With a short nod himself he grabbed your hand as you started walking towards the astronomy tower. His hand in yours was grounding and comforting as he intertwined your fingers, his thumb stroking your knuckles. The walk was silent, you could see how Mattheos jaw clenched and unclenched as you walked, presumably thinking about what had just happened. You had never seen him angry up close before but when he was staring Harry and Ron down you had to admit that he looked scary. He had the same look now as you walked together and while you weren’t scared of him you could see why people where. You would probably fear him too if it weren’t for the way he was holding your hand. When you reached the top of the stairs in the astronomy he didn’t let go, the group of boys quieted down when they heard your footsteps.

“Look who finally stopped making out in a broom closet and decided to joi-” It was Theo who spoke first but stopped himself when he saw your faces, yours with streaks of tears and Mattheos looking like he could kill someone. “What happened?” He then asked seriously, and Mattheo moved to sit down, brining you with him, making you sit down so close to him that your legs touched. He didn’t once make a move to let go of your hand, the feeling was probably as grounding for him as it was to you. He had it in his lap now, playing with the rings on your fingers as he frowned at Theos question. Balise and Enzo both looked at you worriedly and you decided to speak.

“We ran into Harry and Ron.” You said your voice hoarse from the crying. You felt his grip on your hand tighten before he looked up.

“I was waiting for her outside the common room. Those two twats decided to corner me and then y/n came and Weasley” He spat out the name “said some really foul things to her.” His grip was firm now and you gave him a reassuring squeeze that made him look at you and his face softened as his eyes met yours.

“They’re dead.” Blaise said coldly, Enzo and Theo nodded slowly in agreement. You felt the cold queasy feeling of anxiety creep up from the pit of your stomach.

“Guys, please don’t fight them because of me, please.” You said, panic evident in your voice, the thought making you sick. You didn’t want any of your friends to be hurt, neither your new ones or your old ones. Because despite that you’re fighting you still consider Harry and Ron your friends, maybe not as close as before, but still friends. You felt Mattheo pull you to him so that you were sitting in between his legs, his arms wrapping protectively around you as he soothed you. His scent of nicotine, mint and sandalwood enveloped you like a hug.

“Don’t worry love, we won’t fight anyone if that’s what you want.” He mumbled into your hair before kissing your head. You felt your panic settle slowly and as you looked at the others you saw for the first time that they weren’t giving Mattheo cheesy looks like they usually did when he showed you affection or flirted with you. They looked angry, like they didn’t even notice the way Mattheo was holding you.

“But they can’t just treat our friend like that!” Enzo said, anger in his voice. What you noticed was the use of the word friend. They saw you as their friend. You don’t know why it hit you like this, you considered the boys your friends after the first time you met them in the astronomy tower, but the fact that they considered you their friend as well made you feel warm.

“Listen darling, I can promise that we won’t initiate any fights with them” Mattheo looked pointedly at Enzo as he said this. “But if they start one…” You slowly nodded; it seemed like a fair compromise even if you didn’t like it. The others nodded too.

“We can always beat them of their brooms in our next quidditch match.” Blaise let out, you let out a chuckle when you saw the small teasing smile on his face. The thing was that you wouldn’t be surprised if the Slytherin beaters accidentally did club Harry of his broom in the next match. Slowly the tense conversation eased into lighter topics, you could still see that the boys were angry from what happened earlier but you were glad that they slowly found their way back to their normal selves. You were still sitting between Mattheos legs, his arm around your back and his other hand in your lap. You were now playing with his rings as your head rested against his chest. You were feeling drained from all that happened and the vibrations in Mattheos chest from when he was talking was soothing you, making you sleepier by the moment. You heard that the boys went from talking loudly to low murmurs as you slipped in and out of sleep. The warmth of Mattheos large hand on your back under your shirt was the last thing you felt before dosed off, head nestled on his chest as he smoked his cigarette, comfortably rubbing the bare skin of your back.

You awoke some time later. The guys were still murmuring to each other lowly. You could feel Mattheos warm body against yours just like how you fell asleep, your fingers still clutching his. You could feel his other hand against the bare skin of your back.

“Good morning sleeping beauty.” Theo said teasingly when he saw that you were awake. You let out a yawn and you felt Mattheo chuckle.

“You comfortable there?” Blaise said joining in on the teasing, making you blush.

“Yeah, actually, Matty here is very comfy.” You said cheekily while cuddling closer to the boy. He chuckled and his hand found your waist under your shirt and gave it a squeeze.

“You sure you and Matty weren’t actually making out in the broom closet before you came here?” Enzo said with a smirk on his face and the others started cackling.

“Oh, shut up Enzo!” Mattheo let out with a chuckle and you were blushing hard at the insinuation. You get as to why they are teasing you though. You were sitting on the floor with Mattheo, you between his legs as your side are pressed to his chest and your legs were draped over one of his. His arm around your back and his other hand in your lap. You really did understand why they were teasing you, but it didn’t stop you from feeling embarrassed by their teasing. Enzo stuck his tongue out at you two which made you laugh.

“But seriously, how long was I asleep?” You asked and they chuckled at you.

“About 30 minutes.” Theo said and you sat up straighter.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep when we were supposed to hang out.” You apologised with a small frown.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, princess, you just needed some sleep. We don’t blame you.” Mattheo said softly, engulfing your hand in his. You could hear the other snigger at you two but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you could feel yourself getting lost in his chocolate brown eyes. Those eyes who were looking at you intently, with a softness not many had ever seen.

“Don’t worry about it princess.” Blaise said in a voice mocking Mattheos.

“Oh, Matty, you’re so nice and handsome.” Theo said in a high-pitched voice that you assumed was supposed to be you.

“I’m so dark and twisted but for you I’m nice and sweet, look I even cuddle.” Enzo joined in with a dark voice that was supposed to sound like Mattheo. This made you burst out laughing. Mattheo rolled his eyes but couldn’t supress his amused smile.

“You guys are the worst!” You said as you laughed at them, the three boys were sitting there with cheeky grins on their faces.

“No, you guys are the worst, sitting like that making us feel like third, fourth and fifth wheels.” Blaise said with a teasing eyeroll. You chuckled at that.

“Aww, Blaisie you could always cuddle each other.” You said in a mockingly sweet voice making Mattheo chuckle. Blaise made a face at the thought of cuddling Enzo and Theo.

“Oh, come on Blaise, it wouldn’t be that bad.” Mattheo said, enjoying that you were finally the ones doing the teasing. Sensing an opening you turned to the boy whose lap you were practically sitting in.

“How would you know, Matty? Is cuddling a common practice in the Slytherin dorms?” You asked looking up at the boy with a smirk on your face. He was smirking right back at you.

“You have no idea.” Mattheo said jokingly making you laugh. The banter continued between your group long into the night, successfully cheering you up yet again. This night ended in the same way, Mattheo was walking you to your common room, with a hand on the low of your back. When you reached the portrait hole you turned to him and quietly thanked him for tonight. When you were about to turn around to go into your common room he grabbed your wrist.

“Hey, where is my goodnight kiss?” He said, a small pout on his lips. His question made your blush make yet another appearance on your cheeks. You smiled at the boy who was looking at you expectantly. You put your hands on his shoulders, his found your waist, rose to the very tips of your toes and you placed a kiss on his cheek, just like the first time he walked you back. With a shy smile you let go of him, murmured a soft goodnight and then went in through the portrait hole. You didn’t miss the broad smile on his face as he turned around to get back to his own common room.

The next morning you awoke with a smile on your face as memories from the night before flooded to your brain. It was around 9 when you woke up and you saw that Hermione was awake and reading a book in her bed. When she saw that you were awake, she put down her book and came to your bed, begging for details about your night. You told her about everything. Needing someone to vent to you told her about what Harry and Ron did, all the physical affection between you and Mattheo, the teasing from the boys, all of it. Hermione was giving you her thoughts about the situation as you got ready for the day. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, for which you both were excited. You needed to refill your snack drawer. As you exited your dorm you ran into Ginny and the three of you started to walk through the common room together on your way to breakfast. You joined the twins at the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron were sitting a few places away from you, Ron sent you a nasty look which Hermione sent a glare back. She was very upset with them for what they did yesterday, Ginny and the twins too as soon as they were filled in on what happened.

The conversation switched to lighter topic as your group made their way to Hogsmeade. When you reached the village the twins left you for Zonko’s. You, Ginny and Hermione walked around in different shops but ultimately found your way to Honeydukes to fill up on snacks. You hadn’t seen any of the Slytherin boys all day and you were wondering if they even went to Hogsmeade today. While you were in Honeydukes you picked out different types of sweets to give to them, in case they didn’t get to go. After Honeydukes you all carries heavy bags of sweets. You stopped by The Three Broomsticks for some butterbeers before heading back to the castle. When you finally got back you dumped your sweets in their designated drawer before grabbing the bag you bought for the boys.

“Hey, Hermione, I’m just going to give this to the guys okay? See you in a bit.” You said as you leaved your dorm. When you exited the common room it struck you that you had no idea where they were. Deciding to check the astronomy tower first you started to make your way there. However, when you arrived it was empty. You checked the library after that, also empty. The great hall, empty. It left you no choice, you went down into the dungeons, on your way you met a Slytherin girl in your year that you were friendly with, Daphne Greengrass. You made small talk as you walked together towards the Slytherin common room. She was kind enough to tell you the password after letting you in. The Slytherin common room was quite different from Gryffindors. It had large windows that showed you the bottom of the black lake, large black couches and some fireplaces with warming fires going. Despite what you heard about it, their common room was cozy. You looked out the windows into the black lake and saw all sorts of fish and other creatures. The guys weren’t here either though.

“Excuse me, do you where Mattheos dorm is?” You asked a 7th year who lazily pointed you in the direction of his dorm. You walked up the stairs and made your way to where the 7th year showed you. You noticed that no one batted an eye at your presence in their common room, nor when you asked for the boys dormitories. Funny how different it would’ve been if the roles were reversed, and the boys were wandering around the Gryffindor common room. Stopping in front of the door you assumed was Mattheos and the rests dorm you took a deep breath before knocking. You waited, no answer. You listened intently and you heard their voices, they must’ve not heard you. You knocked again, harder this time and you heard footsteps nearing the door. It opened and before you were Enzo.

“Oh y/n! Come in. What are you doing here?” He asked curiously as he stepped aside for you to enter. You noticed that you walked into not a dorm but a hall full of doors.

“You guys have your own private dorms?” You asked in disbelief to which he chuckled and gave you a ‘yeah’ as he led you to one of the doors where you could hear shouts and someone groaning. You gave him an uncertain glance which he replied with a small smile before opening the door. Before you were a sight to behold. Mattheo was sitting on the bed, shirtless and bloody. He had dried blood coming from his nose, down his chin and chest, and a cut on his eyebrow. He held a bloody rag to his nose as he listened to Theo and Blaise cuss him out. You dropped the bag of sweets in shock of the scene making the boys freeze and look at you, like deer caught in headlights.

“You’re hurt.” You said with a frown as you stood in the doorway. Mattheo let out a breath.

“It’s nothing love, what are you doing here?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“What happened?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Blaise chuckled at how you didn’t let up.

“Nothing darling, don’t worry.” He said, winching as he tried to smile, you now noticed a cut in his lip too.

“I’m not stupid Mattheo.” The guys chuckled at how you pursed your lips at him “If I heal you, will you talk?” You asked giving him a pointed look to which he nodded defeated. You bent down, grabbed the bag of sweets and placed it at the desk before moving to stand in front of him, your wand ready.

“Talk first.” You demanded, making the others cackle.

“She drives a hard bargain.” Theo said, amused as he watched the scene unfold. Mattheo mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t catch, the others cackled louder at this. You whirled around and glared at them.

“Shut up” You hissed at them before turning to the boy you were harbouring a crush on.

“What? Use your big boy words.” You said, annoyance in your voice, you could hear the others snigger quietly, making you send glares at them.

“I might have heard McLaggen talk about, uh, someone and I sort of beat him up.” He said sheepishly. You rose an eyebrow at the boy.

“You beat up McLaggen for talking about someone, about who?” You pressed to which he shrugged. You narrowed your eyes at him and then the others who all held up their hands in surrender.

“Why would you do that?” You asked, he shrugged again with a sigh of annoyance you quickly healed him to which he was grateful.

“You’re so annoying.” You mumbled under your breath to which he beamed.

“Yes, but you still love me.” He said in a sing song voice to which you rolled your eyes, but a small smile crept up on your lips.

“Anyways, the reason I decided to bless you with my presence was to give you guys this. I didn’t see you in Hogsmeade today, but since you were busy beating people up for talking about others, I now know why.” You said pointedly as you gave them the bag of sweets, still feeling quite annoyed.

“Oh, y/n this is really nice of you.” Blaise said taken aback.

“You really didn’t have to…” Theo muttered as Enzo and Mattheo murmured in agreement. This made you soften, your annoyance with the boys slowly fading away. You busied yourself with wetting a cloth with some water before slowly walking over to the bed where Mattheo was sitting stunned. You handed him the wet cloth, he accepted it with a small smile, blood still on his face.

“Haven’t anyone brought you a gift before?” You asked softly as the boys stared at the candy, Mattheo cleaning of the dried blood of his face and chest. They shook their heads no at your question.

“We aren’t the most liked people in school, as you know.” Enzo muttered fiddling with the packaging of a chocolate frog. This broke your heart.

“Well, I like you and I will always bring you something from Hogsmeade if you can’t make it.” You said determination in your voice making the boys look at you with wide eyes.

“Like you said, we’re friends, and I like to bring gifts to my friends.” You said with a smile, the boys slowly smiled too. You saw appreciative looks on their faces when you looked around the room, when your eyes landed on Mattheo next to you, you noticed that he had missed some blood.

“Here, let me.” You said softly and you reached to grab the cloth before wiping away some blood on his eyebrow. The look he was giving you now was the same one he gave you in the library. It made your breath catch in your throat, your movements coming to a halt as your eyes caught his. He was looking at you with those Bambi-eyes, butterflies erupted in your stomach, just like they usually did with him. His hand gripped your thigh, not in a sexual way, it was more like he was assuring himself that you really were there.

“You’re too good to us.” He murmured as he held your gaze, you cleared your throat, continuing to wipe away blood, from his chest now.

“I’m not, I just appreciate you guys, you’ve been really nice to me.” You said, a small smile on your lip as you threw the cloth in the trash.

“Well, that settles it, you can never leave us, I’m too attached now.” Blaise said with a cheesy smile on his face as he made his way to you and before you knew it, he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, lifting you up in the air. You squealed and kicked your legs.

“Ahh Blaise, put me down! I won’t leave you okay!” You said in between laughter, he was laughing too before setting you down. You didn’t have much time on the ground before Enzo and Theo went to hug you too, crushing you just like Blaise. Laughter filled the room from your squealing. When you were finally released you collapsed onto the bed, feeling winded.

“So, this is how you show your appreciation, by breaking your friends ribs?” You chuckle before leaning on your elbows looking at the boys who were grinning from ear to ear.

“No but we can break other people’s ribs if you need us to” Mattheo said which earned him a slap on his shoulder from you.

“You’re such a boy! And put a shirt on you heathen.” You said as you stuck your tongue out at him which earned some laughter from the others.

“Don’t try to pretend that you don’t enjoy the view.” He said wiggling his eyebrows at you, making you laugh before hitting his head with a pillow. He let out a grunt of shock before grabbing the pillow from your hand making you panic.

“Please don’t hit me I brought you candy!” You said as you braced for impact, but it never came instead you heard a groan from the boy.

“You can’t just pull that card, now I’ll feel bad if I hit you!” He pouted making you let out a breath of relief as the others laughed. Mattheo put the pillow down and went to put a shirt on, to your very secret disappointment. You all hung out in what you learned was Theos dorm, you were snacking and just chatting about anything and everything. It was around 8 in the evening when he tried to kick you out, but he wouldn’t give a reason.

“Ah, Theos girlfriend is coming soon.” Enzo teased as he stood up from his place by the desk, Blaise and Mattheo stood up as well.

“Omg Theo? You never told me you had a girlfriend! Who is she? How long have you been together? How did you meet?” You asked eagerly as you turned to Theo who now looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Well, y/n, we’re not together in uh that sense…” Theo trailed off, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. It took you a moment to realise what he meant you made a face which made the others laugh. Mattheo grabbed your hands to drag you up from your spot on the bed.

“Well, let’s go then darling, let Theo have some fun with his non-girlfriend.” He said with a laugh as you made another face, Enzo and Balise had already left for their own dorms.

“Come on love, it’s just sex, it’s no big deal.” He said with an amused smile on his face.

“It’s not the sex, it’s the way you’re phrasing it!” You said with your nose scrunched, making both Theo and Mattheo chuckle. You shook your head at them as you gave Theo a wave before letting Mattheo drag you out of Theos dorm. Mattheo started to walk towards another door in the hall, he gave you a look as to tell you to follow him before he opened the door and sauntered into what you assumed was his dorm. You followed him in, closing the door behind you, and looked around. His dorm was neat, he had shelves of books and records, you let your fingers trace the backs of them as Mattheo flopped down on his bed, watching you.

“I didn’t know you liked to read?” You said softly as you picked up a copy of the muggle book Moby Dick, turning it over in your hand as you looked at him. He shrugged before putting his arms behind his head.

“I had a lot of time when I was little, I guess the habit just stuck.” He answered your question nonchalantly. You smiled as you put the book back in its place. You sat down on the bed, looking at him.

“What?” He asked curiously, a small smile on his face. You let out a shy laugh before turning your body fully too him.

“You’re full of surprises, Mattheo Riddle.” You said softly.

“Oh yeah? Good or bad?” He asked, a soft smile on his face as he sat up to face you.

“Only good.” You said as you reached out to brush one of his stray curls out of his eyes. The tension from earlier made it’s way back between you. The air turned thick and heavy. Your hand hovered awkwardly by his cheek for a moment before he grabbed it in his larger one. You had shifted closer to him now as his other hand caressed your cheek.

“You really are too good to us, to me.” He murmured as his thumb traced your cheekbone. You didn’t know what to say, you were lost in his chocolate brown eyes, the feeling of his hand against your face, the whole of him. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His hand moved to grip the hair in the back of your neck, a soft, yet steady grip as he closed his eyes. He looked like he was in pain as he opened his eyes again. Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest, you would be surprised if he didn’t hear your heartbeat. You don’t know how it slipped out it just did, but the world seemed to stop when you uttered those words.

“Kiss me, Matty.” The restraint he showed earlier completely vanished and his lips were on yours in a soft, passionate kiss. His hands moved to your waist as he lifted you into his lap, so you were straddling him. Your hands found their home in his hair, grabbing the ends of it, making him groan into your lips. His hands moved under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He grunted against your lips as he gripped the soft flesh of your hips. He was kissing you again, more intensely this time, his tongue was in your mouth exploring every part of it, hands gripping your hips firmly. He flipped you over mid kiss so that you were laying under him, his arms at either side of your head, and continued to kiss you.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you in potions.” He said as he kissed down your neck as you let out small moans. He pulled back to look at you, your hair was fanned out on his pillow as you laid there under him. You were looking up at him with big eyes, lips swollen and red from all the kissing. His hand grabbed your chin as he looked you in the eyes, vulnerability shone in his eyes.

“Please tell me that you’re mine, I can’t kiss you again without knowing that you’re mine.” He said, his voice strained, and your heart stopped. Your eyes widened in shock. Mattheo was known for not doing commitment, yet here he was, asking you to be his.

“What?” You asked, shock evident in your voice.

“Fuck, yes love, all I want is you. I think about you before I go to bed, right after I wake up, I can’t eat, sleep or do anything without you being on my mind. Hell, it was you McLaggen talked about, he didn’t even say anything bad, and I still saw red. You’re fucking perfect, you’re too good for me, yet you make me want to rip my heart out of my chest and give it to you if that’s what it takes for you to be mine, my girlfriend, my whatever you’re willing to be.” He said his eyes closed and his head dipped in the crook of your neck. Your hands pulled his face up so you could look at him. His eyes were searching yours for any sign of anything.

“Do you really mean that, Matty?” You whispered to which he nodded. Your face broke out in a wide smile, his face slowly matching yours.

“Then I’m yours, your girlfriend, as long as you’re mine, my boyfriend.” You said, using his words from just moments before. You have never seen a wider smile on his face before. He leaned down again and gave you the sweetest kiss you’ve ever felt. You spent the rest of the night cuddled up in his bed, kissing, talking, cuddling, Mattheo even read to you at some point of the evening. He read a chapter of Little Women, a muggle novel he said he thought you might like. At some point you fell asleep in his arms, your head comfortably nestled on his chest. It was the best sleep you have had for a long time. When you awoke the next day Mattheo was still holding you, his hand firmly on your waist. He looked so peaceful as he slept, his curls messy, his mouth slightly open as soft snores escaped him. You reached a hand up to caress your boyfriends face, his eyes shot open the second you touched him.

“Sorry” you whispered as you stroked his hair out of his face.

“Please tell me I’m not dreaming.” He rasped, his voice thick with sleep. A blush spread across your cheeks at his voice. You let out a giggle at his words.

“You’re not, Matty.” You said softly before giving him a soft kiss on the lips to which he responded immediately by kissing you back and rolling you over so that he was on top of you. He deepened the kiss groaning at the feeling of your hands in his hair. Before anything else could happen, you were interrupted by his door slamming open.

“Rise and shi-” You heard Blaise say before falling completely silent.

“Sorry mate, we didn’t know you had a girl over.” This was Enzo, you assumed they couldn’t see that it was you based on how Mattheo was over you. He gave you a short smirk before looking back at the three boys who stood in the doorway. When he shifted his position, the boys got a clear view of your face.

“No”

“Fucking”

“Way.” They said in disbelief as they saw you, although fully clothed, under Mattheo, in his bed, in the morning. Mattheo chuckled as you let out an embarrassed laugh. Mattheo rolled off you, making you miss his warmth, and the two of you sat up.

“When did this happen?” Enzo asked and you explained what happened, choosing to leave out some of the more intimate details.

“Look, I’m so happy for you and all but seriously, if you were touchy, feely before I can’t even imagine what it will be like now!” Blaise groaned as you were walking to breakfast, Mattheos arm securely around your waist.

“Do you really think they can get worse?” Theo pondered with a smirk on his face. Mattheo rolled his eyes and gave your waist a squeeze, making you smile as your friends discussed the matter at hand. When you entered the great hall, you didn’t have time to think before you were pulled to the Slytherin table to sit with your boyfriend. You were talking and laughing as you ate your breakfast. You caught Fred and Georges eye, just as you did Theos in the beginning of your friendship, the twins gave you a cheeky wink each and wiggled their eyebrows. Then they leaned over to say something to Hermione and Ginny who were sitting with their backs to you. The girls turned around as saw you sitting with Mattheo, his arm around you waist, they smiled at you and then turned around to talk intently with the twins. You turned your attention back to your boyfriend who were arguing with Theo about something. What you didn’t notice were the looks from Harry and Ron, they saw your genuine smile when you looked at Mattheo, they also saw how Mattheo looked at you like you were the one who hung the stars and the moon. They realised then what a big mistake they made.

They caught up with you when you had left the boys to go change in your dorms, with a promise to join them again once you had freshened up.

“y/n, please wait up.” Harry shouted as they ran up to you. You stopped and turned to them, a wary look on your face.

“Please, y/n we’re really sorry for how we behaved.” Harry said, an apologetic look on his face.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry for saying that you would sleep with anyone who is nice to you, I know you would never do that, you’re like one of the smartest people I know.” Ron said, him too looking apologetic.

“When we heard that Riddle beat up McLaggen for talking about you, we sort of realised that he might not be using you.” Ron added.

“I forgive you.” You said slowly. Harry and Ron straightened.

“You do?” The asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, but what you said really hurt. I miss my friends though.” You said with a smile as you gave them hugs. You walked with them to the common room, joking as you did before all the drama. You filled Hermione and Ginny in on your recent development in your relationship with Mattheo as you went around your dorm to freshen up. You were eager to get to him. When you finally had changed and freshened up you hurried through the castle to the dungeons and when you finally reached your boyfriends dorm you walked in and jumped on him as he was laying on the bed, reading. He let out a grunt as you landed on him.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” He asked with a smile as he put the book away. You explained what had happened, about how Harry and Ron apologized and how happy it made you that you were finally friends again. Mattheo beamed at you before pulling you in for a kiss, one of many to come. Everything was finally right, and you couldn’t be happier.

[sungstars]

bedrock | loser!jisung x fem!reader

i.e after jisung went down on you for the first time… he just can’t get enough!!!

authors note: PART TWO OF FALL OFF!! i hope it is up to everyone’s standards <3 I HAD SOOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS LOLLLL i really hope you guys enjoy !! i feel a bit insecure abt postin it...

word count: 1.5k (not proof read)

content warning: unprotected sex, switch!jisung, unprotected sex, creampie, use of sex toys, lmk if i missed anything!!

jisung couldn’t get enough of you. ever since that night where he went down on your for the first time, he needed more.

whether it was laying between your thighs for hours, lapping at your cunt and making you finish over and over or fingering you on the couch during a movie.

countless nights passed where you've offered to return the favor, but jisung declines.

he always passes it off as he just wants to focus on pleasing you, but of course, you didn't buy it.

the real reason was because every time jisung got you off, he would always cum in his pants before you even finished once. it was so embarrassing that he would bust in his pants like a fucking virgin.

everything about you was just so intoxicating though. your scent, the way you tasted, your moans, and praises. how could he honestly not finish in minutes?

which led him to his dilemma right now. sweat matted his hair to his forehead, his entire body felt so fucking sticky and warm.

it was all your fault. you dragged him to the dumb skating rink in your stupidly short tennis skirt that left little to the imagination.

he couldn’t even focus on skating when he knew there were more than just his eyes on you, fuck, he couldn’t even take his eyes off of you.

his eyes almost popped out of his fucking skull when you bent down to fasten the buckles on your skates, the outline of your cunt peeking through the thin material of your underskirt.

said skirt flailed around when you moved on your inclines, showing jisung all of your cute tricks you learned from years of roller skating and also the bottom of your ass.

jisung had the most raging boner for the last hour and a half. cheeks flushed and ears a burning red that he blamed on the skating and his once again, awful attire of a hoodie and sweatpants.

you paid him no mind when he would basically whimper whenever the two of you came into contact on the floor.

if jisung could look past the part of how turned on he was, it was really endearing to watch you have so much fun.

after another hour of skating, you were tuckered out and wanted nothing more than go home and shower.

jisung was more than happy to comply. he needed a fucking shower and the chance to beat off one good time.

being the gentleman he was, he offered to let you shower first, but also for selfish reasons.

you took longer in the shower which gave him the opportunity to get some sort of release from this god awful erection.

when he was sure you were in the shower, he reached for the top shelf in your shaded closet and pulled down one of his shoe boxes.

it’s been so long since he had to use anything but his hand, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

thank you jeno for working at a sex store last christmas.

if jisung had any room to feel embarrassed for pulling out a pocket pussy that’s skin tone replicated yours, he definitely would’ve.

however, he needed to fuck something more than he needed to feel embarrassed. so he’ll worry about that later.

tripping over his own feet trying to get to the bed and his joggers down his hips, he let his cock hit his abdomen with a wet smack from the precum already dribbling down his tip.

he hurriedly grabbed the bottle of lube you guys kept in one of the nightstands, squeezing an unnecessary amount onto his hand and wrapping it around his dick.

small moans left his plush lips as he stroked himself, a chill running down his spine from the borderline ice cold lube.

his back arched slightly into the bed after a few strokes, feeling that knot already forming in his stomach.

“fuck,” he whimpered, moving his hand and sliding the toy down his cock, “fuck fuck fuck.”

the toy felt so tight and nice around his cock. you would be even better than this stupid toy, he knew it.

the way you clenched down on his fingers when they opened you up. . . jisung could only imagine how your cunt would spasm on his dick.

your pretty whimpers when he’d push into you, trying to fit all of his cock into you, how you’d probably try to run from it, oh he needs you so so badly.

another moan escaped his lip when he began to pick up his pace fucking the toy, thinking of all the nasty ways he would ruin you.

“mmfh,” jisung whimpered, his toes curling slightly at the thought of filling you up and fucking his cum back into you.

god. . . he doesn’t think he can go without—

“having fun without me?”

jisung’s eyes shot open, a flush immediately taking over his face as he saw you standing over him, one hand clutching your towel over your naked body.

he opened his mouth and closed it a few times, trying to form a sentence yet nothing came to mind.

you didn’t say anything either, opting to nudge his hand from the toy and putting your own on it, starting to slowly move it up and down his cock.

“thinkin’ of me?” you teased, “why use this when you coulda just fucked me instead, ji?”

he dug his fingers into his palms, whimpering for the nth time this night, “t-too nervous. don’t wanna cum too quick cause you’re s-so pretty.”

an endearing smile cascaded across your features, “you wanna fuck me ji?”

the raven haired boy nodded his head, lip caught between his teeth to stop his little noises as you used the pocket pussy on him. it was so hot, him using a pocket pussy to think of you.

why should he use this when he has the real thing right in front of him?

you stopped your movements, completely removing the toy from his cock and watching his body tense up from the cold air hitting his cock that looked red and angry.

placing the toy on the bed, you unwrapped your towel and adjusted yourself to sit on jisung’s lap.

the tip of his cock catching your clit, causing you to hiss and jisung groan. his whole body was still so tense, your poor boyfriend.

grabbing the base of his cock, you slowly pushed the tip into your cunt, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

“fuck,” the boy whined, “so so tight and warm.”

you sunk further down, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix and you placed your hands on his chest.

grabbing the fabric of his t-shirt, you bounced slowly on his cock, “you’re soo big jisung, fuck. i cant believe y-you’ve been holding out on fucking me.”

his hands grabbed your hips, forcing you up and slamming you back down on his cock harshly. you wanted to scream, his cock reaching all these spots in you that you didn’t know could be touched.

his pretty flushed face and hooded eyes looking up at you as he fucked you on his cock like you were his pocket pussy.

“you feel so good,” he said as he watched your tits bounce in his face, “look so good too. f-fuck, i cant believe i’ve been so nervous to fuck such a perfect girl.”

without waiting on a response, he flipped the two of you over and threw your legs over his shoulders causing you to yelp.

he pushed his hips into yours at a brutal pace, cock hitting your spongey spot over and over. one of his hands coming down to rub your clit roughly, lips raising ever so slightly into a smile at your wails.

tears welling up in your eyes at the pleasure, one of your hands wrapped around his forearm as you let out a string of moans. jisung was so interesting, one moment withering under your touch and the next, treating you like nothing but a fucking toy.

“j-ji,” you squealed, digging your nails into his skin, “i-i’m about to fuckin—”

your walls practically spasmed as you reached your peak, crying out jisung’s name which pushed him over the edge as well.

jisung thrusted shallowly into you, cum still spurting into your cunt and starting to spill out, kissing your neck gently as the two of you came down.

when you whined from over sensitivity, jisung pulled out and gave you a sweet kiss before collapsing next to you.

“can’t believe you held on fucking me within an inch of my life ‘cause you were scared of underperforming,” you whispered, tracing shapes on jisung’s chest, “and now i need to shower again.”

jisung hummed, turning over on his side to look at you, “i was thinking i should eat you out then fuck you ‘till i can make you squirt.”

“you fuck me once and suddenly you have all the confidence in the world?”

“i wanna fuck you ‘till we break the bed like bella and edward.”

you shook your head as you pulled your boyfriend down into another kiss.

it was going to be a long night.

END

[ellecdc]

Hardass

Chef!Sirius Black x mixologist!reader who survive a shift from hell

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: fem!reader, mention of alchohol/drinking, fluff.

comes from a request from @maladaptiveescapism: chef!sirius and mixologist!reader. sirius is a chef at a fancy restaurant and maybe a mishap happens with booking and reader has to keep the people sitting at the bar waiting for a seat and she does such a good job because she’s flirty and fun and trained for this. sirius who always has such a short temper (chefs, am I right) secretly worships her because she’s the one thing he can count on

Sirius was fuming, to say the least.

He loved his job; he really did. The kitchens were his sanctuary, and it was the first place he fled to when he ran away from home at only sixteen. 

Though he knew Effie and Fleamont would have helped with anything he needed (or even wanted, for that matter), he didn’t want to become a burden or take advantage of their kindness. So, he found a part time job in a small family owned restaurant as a dishwasher.

Washing dishes became bussing tables. Bussing tables became hosting. Hosting became serving. He went from a server to a line cook, until finally someone took him under their wing, and Sirius made a name for himself.

Now he was a successful chef working in a successful restaurant and he certainly had made a name for himself.

That name? Hardass.

But it took a certain intensity to run the kind of kitchen that Sirius did, and he expected nothing short of greatness from the kitchen staff.

Fortunately for Sirius, it was the restaurant manager’s fuck up that caused tonights issues.

Unfortunately for Sirius, that fucked everything up for his staff in the kitchen. 

“So, quick question for you Jeffery; did you pass year four maths?” Sirius asked earnestly, watching Jeffery shove his tongue in his cheek to avoid snapping back at the glowering chef in all his tattooed intensity. “Because last time I counted, we don’t have this many sodding tables!” He continued, pointing at the number of reservations scheduled for tonight.

“Uh oh.” You carefully called out as you walked in through the front door, in the process of shucking off your jacket as you made your way towards the bar. “Looks like you could use a drink, chef.” 

Sirius was almost mad at how much of the rage seemed to settle down into a simmer at the sight of you; he didn’t want to calm down, he wanted to ring Jeffery’s fucking neck out.

But Jeffery, the coward, had used your entrance as a means to fuck off from whatever circle of Sirius’ personal hell he’d been summoned from. 

“We’re overbooked tonight.” Sirius grumbled as he sat dejectedly at your bar; mirroring what likely most of your patrons looked like as they spent their weekday evenings with you.

“Shit luck.” you sighed commiseratingly as you poured two shots of vodka and slid one to him. “Here’s to working our sodding asses off then, hm?” You said with a smirk as you touched your glass to his and threw it back like a pro. 

And you had indeed been right; the two of you had worked your sodding asses off tonight. But the difference between the two of you was astounding.

Sirius spent most of his evening sweating, cursing, and - more embarrassingly - shouting at the poor servers looking for their orders that ‘clearly weren’t fucking ready yet, were they?!’. 

But not you. 

Alright, did he take the opportunity to run out the odd plate for the servers just to steal a glance at you? Sure. Sue him. And everytime he did, he’d pass the very busy bar which was always full of couples and groups waiting for a table to clear. None of them seemed to mind, however, as they watched you shake, throw, spin, catch bottles like it was an olympic sport; all with a smile on your face and mischief in your eyes. 

It was as if they were your captive audience and you were thriving on stage. 

Sirius wanted to stay and enjoy the show; but you were working your arse off, and Sirius should be too.

Sirius’ feet were killing him, which meant most of his staff’s feet were worse; his shoulders ached, his head was pounding, and his fingers were raw.

But they made it to the end of the shift; and he supposed that was all that mattered.

He brought out two plates of the restaurant’s famous (read: Sirius’ famous) pasta alla gricia.

You were no longer wearing your beaming smile and Sirius could now see some of the weight of the night in your shoulders and the way your hair was falling as you reorganised your bar.

“Think you can take a break?” He asked as he sat at your freshly cleared bar and placed one plate in front of him and one behind the bar for you.

You startled, which Sirius thought strange for someone who seemed so confident and assured every time he’d walked past your bar for the past almost year the two of you have worked here, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Oh my God.” You groaned appreciatively as you abandoned your task to take in the plate he’d prepared for you. “I’m starving; thank you!”

Sirius chuckled and suddenly felt shy, which he did not think suited him at all, but you were smiling at him like he was your personal angel on earth and he couldn’t help but return the gaze.

“Let me get you a drink?” You asked, but turned to start pouring him a glass of wine (perfectly suited for the dish, mind you) before he had a chance to answer. 

You placed both drinks on the bar and brought your plate around to sit on the stool beside Sirius.

The two of you ate in relative silence; allowing the stress and exhaustion from the shift to wash over you. 

“I think I made Chloe cry.” Sirius said finally, causing you to snort.

“You did.” You agreed quickly. “She came and helped me in the bar for a bit and Jeffery had to run her tables after that.”

Sirius barked a laugh as he took a sip of his wine. “I was wondering why that sod was in my kitchen. Well, I’m sorry to Chloe, but happy to have put Jeffery to work.”

Speaking of the devil; Jeffery came out front with his jacket on and a work bag slung over his shoulder. 

“I’m heading out now; are you two okay to close up?”

You smiled at him, but unfortunately for Jeffrey, Sirius responded first. “Yes we can close up.” He sneered. “We’re not new here Jeffery.”

“Thanks Jeffery, have a nice night.” You relented; giving Sirius a gentle kick in the shin.

The door shut behind the bastard and Sirius felt his shoulders relax. “I hate that sod.”

Thankfully, you only laughed at him.

“I think you hate everyone here.”

“That’s not true.” Sirius disagreed quickly.

“Well you certainly don’t like anyone here.”

“That’s not true either. I quite like you.” Sirius admitted, quickly hoping to god his cheeks didn’t flush at his impromptu admission. 

You hummed in acknowledgement with a cheeky smile on your lips. “Is that why you made me dinner? As a thanks for being the most tolerable coworker?”

“Most tolerable, certainly. Also for saving our arses tonight in the kitchen; I’m not sure how you managed to keep those folks so happy all evening.”

“Oh, that’s easy; get them drunk and steal desserts from the kitchen.”

“That’s where all my tiramisu was going?” Sirius asked in faux contempt.

You only smiled at him and shoved the last bite of your pasta in your mouth.

“You minx.” He continued, taking the now empty plates to the kitchen as you followed dutifully behind him with the glasses. 

“Get out of my kitchen.” Sirius joked, plucking the wine glasses from your hands as he moved to wash the dishes.

“I’d think not.” You argued. “I got a free meal; put me to work, chef.”

“First of all, it was not a free meal; you more than earned it after your performance tonight. Secondly, don’t call me chef.”

“Why not? You are a chef, aren’t you?” You teased as you leaned sideways against the counter to watch him work.

“Yes; but if you call me chef, what am I supposed to call you?”

Your eyebrows raised at that. “What do you mean ‘what are you supposed to call me’? My name is fine.”

“My name’s not chef.” He countered.

Your eyes narrowed challengingly at him. “What do you want to call me, Sirius?”

Mine?

“Haven’t decided yet.” He said instead, keeping his eyes on the dishes in his hands instead of meeting your gaze currently burning into the side of his head.

“Well…” You started, walking over to release some paper from the chit, and scribbling something out on it. “Why don’t you just call me…tomorrow?” You said, handing him the paper after he dried his hands on a teatowel.

Your number was scrawled out with a dainty little heart beside it.

Sirius looked back up at you to see you smiling shyly at him.

“I can assure you I will be.” He promised.

Your smile grew at that as you began walking backwards towards the backroom. 

“Have a nice night, Sirius.” You said before you exited the kitchen.

It was too late to wish him a nice night; he’d already had one.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: none

Summary: You’re plagued by the kid who lives in your neighborhood, the kid you know has a crush on you. You left town, you lived your life without him, and now you’re staring at him face to face after years. Something about him has changed and now you can’t help but want him back.

Square Filled: art student au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

As soon as the last bell at school rings, you race off campus to start the walk home. It’s not a far walk but you enjoy the silence you get from it. Your house is filled with little brothers and sisters and it’s hard to get a moment of peace. Your parents do the best they can but you know it’s hard for them. You’re the oldest so you’re expected to help out which is why you also enjoy your time alone.

You walk around the corner and notice the sixth house down from yours with the garage open. You’re not sure how you feel but something washes over you knowing what’s going to come next. Maybe it’s annoyance or irritation or indifference but the same thing happens every single time you walk home from school.

The only kid that lives there, Spencer Reid, loves to come out and walk with you the rest of the way to your house. He’s a nice kid but that’s all he is--a kid. He’s two years older than you are but you’re much taller than he is. If he is going to get a growth spurt, he’s getting it late in life or maybe his family are just short people. He’s not enrolled in your school because he’s mega smart and needs higher education to stimulate his brain.

You slip past his house in hopes you can enjoy the rest of your walk in silence but you hear the garage door slam shut and footsteps padding down the driveway.

“Hey, Y/N! Almost missed you.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you shake your head.

“How was your day?”

“It was fine. It’s just school.”

“Today was my first day of college and it was exhilarating. I have to admit, I wish you were there. Or I wish I was enrolled in your high school like all the other normal kids. At least we’d be together.”

You knew he had a crush on you after the first conversation you ever had with him. He called you pretty and vowed he’d walk with you to protect you against predators. It was cute at first but not you’re interested in someone like him. Like you said, he’s nice and has the potential of being a good boyfriend but he’s short and you don’t go for short boys.

“Sure, Spencer.”

“Listen, my mom gave me some money and I wanted to see this new French film that’s playing across town. Do you think you’d want to maybe go with me?”

Never has he ever had the balls to ask you out. Now that he has, you need to put a stop to this. He’ll get over the crush and you won’t be humiliated every time you go out in public. Does that make you selfish? Maybe. Does that make you a douche? Definitely. You stop outside of your house and look down at Spencer who has a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Spencer, listen, you’re a nice kid but it’s never going to happen between us.” Spencer’s face falls but he doesn’t say anything. “Grow over six feet and then we’ll talk, okay?”

You meant that as a joke but you don’t stick around to see if he laughs. That’s the last time you ever saw Spencer Reid.

Now

Today is the day. You’re given the opportunity to feature your art in one of the most successful art galleries in the country. You studied at Princeton and got a degree in fine arts before interning for known artist Benjamin Hale. He’s so successful that he has hundreds of galleries across America with dozens more across the world. He was impressed with your portfolio and offered to let you study underneath him while creating your artwork in private.

He offered you a chance to showcase your work in one of his new galleries. According to him, he needs new blood in this gallery and you’re the perfect fit for it. Your speciality is portraits, realism, and photorealism. Your favorite things to draw are people but there is something about being in nature and drawing what God put on this Earth. You have an eye for making your paintings look real and raw, and you’re able to capture people’s emotions henceforth the realism part of your art.

You only have about a dozen works put up in your small corner of the gallery but you’re proud of it all. You might not sell anything tonight and that’s okay. When you got the word out that the gallery was going to open, people agreed to come once they saw free food and wine was going to be handed out. Still, you appreciate everyone coming.

The place is packed mostly for Benjamin’s work but you see some people enjoying your work. You’re in the back room getting more wine for the servers when one of them joins you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey, Lori. I’ve just gotten the box of wine for you guys.”

“I just came back here to tell you that someone just bought all of your things.” You’re so shocked that you spring up but hit your head on the corner of a shelf. You yelp in pain and rub the sore area before backing out of the dusty corner. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What did you just say?”

“Someone bought all of your work.”

You don’t wait to hear what else she has to say. You’re already out the door and rushing into the main room. You look to your section but don’t see anyone lingering around. You’re not paying attention to where you’re walking when you almost run into someone. The man grabs your shoulders to prevent you from falling and lets out a chuckle.

“Are you okay?”

Wait you know that voice. You look up at the man towering over six feet tall. Damn, he grew up.

“Spencer?”

“So, you do remember me.”

He lets go of your shoulders and allows you to take a step back from him. Damn, not only did he grow but he grew more handsome since the last time you saw him. Well, he was fifteen the last time you saw him but still.

“How could I forget the little boy who followed me for two years?”

“Yeah, I kind of had a crush on you,” he chuckles.

Oh, he even has a beautiful smile. Damn, I really was a dick to him back then. You try to ignore the pang of sadness at his use of “had” and not “have”.

“I know you did. I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

“Looking for someone?” he asks before you have a chance to leave his side.

“Yeah, someone bought everything I have out.”

“It was me.”

You pause and turn to look at him. He has a slight smirk on his face, and something in your head clicks into place. You look at him up and down and notice how he’s trying hard not to be overly confident in his decision.

“So, what, you got older and taller and now you think you’re hot shit?”

Spencer shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the one looking up, not me.” Your jaw drops several inches at his remark. “So, can we talk now?”

“Excuse me?”

“You told me to grow over six feet and we’ll talk. Well, I’m over six feet now. Will you let me take you out?”

You have no clue what to say to that because your mind is reeling from the last thing he said. Someone calls his name and you both see a black man, two blondes, and a brunette waving him over. They point to their watches which means he is either late or they have to go. He digs in his pocket and produces a business card. Only it’s not a business card. He’s in the fucking FBI.

“How about this?” He hands the card to you. “Call me when I can pick this stuff up and maybe we’ll talk then.”

He leaves your side and joins his friend group without another look at you. Is it shallow to want him now? Maybe. Are you going to try like hell to make up for lost time? Definitely.

x

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