#i’ll try to pull my best out of my arse

[buckingham-ashtray]

in the process of making my first johnlock edit and it's over one and a half minute long. yes i have a death wish no i have no idea why i'm making it this long.

the length is set though cuz i've already finished making the audio but this will take more than three months for sure :/

DEFINITELY let me know if you wish to be tagged by the time it's finally posted!!

[rookiesbookies]

141 with a physically affectionate reader who gets cuteness aggression and attacks their faces with kisses at the most random times

Did have to google some Scottish slang( is slang the right term?) for Soap so sorry if its trash or wrong.

Price

First time you saw him shirtless. Look that soft layer of fat over his muscles is enticing, I’d bite too.

His eyes went wide and he just looked at you. He looked like his eyes were gonna pop out of his face.

“Love, did you mean to bite me?”

“Your pec looked delicious and you’re just so cute I couldn’t help it!”

He’s horrified, also holding both his pecs like a lady who got caught with her bra off. He couldnt decide if he liked being called cute or not and he sure as hell couldn’t decide about if he enjoy you munching on his pec or not.

So you just decided to plant kisses all over his face.

Soap

I feel like you got cuteness aggression the first time you got him naked.

It was just supposed to be a nibble, you weren’t meaning to bite his ass cheek. It was just so cute, clenched up, and ready to be nibbled.

He shrieked, “are you a bloody bampot!”

“... no?”

“Get yer whee mouth on my fuckin boaby not my fuckin arse, ya clarty lass! Fuckin dafty, yer are.”

“Thank you?”

“I said I’d rather your mouth be on my dick and not my ass.”

“I’ll just smother you in kisses instead.”

Ghost

Lowkey you just get cuteness aggression every time you see him. Especially with his mask on. Planting kisses weren’t as easy and violence was chosen. So going in for a hug when he’s about to get in the shower the turns into you biting his meaty shoulder, earning a smack on the head.

“What’s fooking wrong with ya today?”

“You just look so cute.”

He pulled off mask, “look me in my face and say that again.”

You look at him taking a breath to keep a straight face, “you’re a cutie patootie.”

Gaz

“You know, you’re in the dictionary next to the word cute right?” You said, while sitting in his lap, planting aggressive kisses on his face and body.

“Really?”

“Yup.” You mumbled before pinching the inside of his thigh making him scream and smack your head lightly.

“NO. Bad!”

Yeah, cuteness aggression is something he wasn’t ready for. Have fun explaining it to him because he is already staring in disbelief.

Konig

He gets cuteness aggression with you, so getting it right back with the blonde hair that litters his chest. You were trying to pull on it gently to see how sensitive it is, making biscuits like a cat while kissing all over his face, it wasn’t actually the aggression.

You didn’t see him about to cry under his mask from how it hurt. Until he pulled back.

“My love please be gentler.”

“Huh?”

“Very sensitive.”

“Oh.”

Krueger

When he look his mask off for the first time, the cuteness aggression was overwhelming for you. You tried your best to just gently hold his face and plant kisses up and down it, but it was too much he was so cute it was overwhelming, you had to pinch his cheeks. He yelped and pulled your hands away from his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“You’re too cute, I can't help it!”

“You’re cruel, fucking cruel.”

Keegan

“Hey, babes, can we chill out? You’ve been aggressively rubbing my back for half an hour.”

“Your tattoo is so cute I cant help it!”

He had gotten your favorite animal tattooed on his back. You were rubbing it while kissing the back of his neck vehemently.

“I just wanna,” and you pinched it and he pinched your calf, making you silently scream.

You smacked his back, “too hard! You pinched me so much harder than I pinched you!”

“Na-uh.” He said sassily.

“Ya-huh.”

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Remember that one scene where Arthur is training with Merlin and Merlin is fighting for his life while Arthur repeatedly knocks him on his arse? I can’t remember what episode but it was early in season 1.

I like to imagine Merlin starts being sarcastic with every hit in hopes it’ll piss Arthur off enough to storm off and leave him alone. It backfires when Arthur starts replying and it turns into a venting session.

Like, Uther said some dumb shit about Arthur? Merlin starts a fight about it.

The knights can’t follow orders? Merlin is disobedient enough that Arthur starts yelling about how dangerous it is when his men don’t follow orders.

Arthur’s feeling bad about someone he couldn’t save? Merlin makes him see why he’s doing enough by arguing with him about it and reminding him that he’s only human.

And Arthur knows what he’s doing, he catches on eventually and will occasionally walk up to Merlin, push his shoulder only enough to be annoying until Merlin stops whatever he’s doing, then Arthur will just say “Fight me.” and Merlin will either say something he knows will get Arthur angry or he’ll throw a punch he knows Arthur will block and they’ll start sparring. (Merlin learns to fight eventually, neither of them realise it’s happening until he sucker punches a bandit and he’s out cold)

Anyway, it becomes something they do to help Arthur vent his frustrations.

The best part? It works.

So Arthur sees Merlin upset. It goes on for about a week when Arthur realises what’s going on. He sits down next to Merlin on the floor one night, nudges his shoulder like he would if he wanted to fight, and says, “why are you upset? It’s not like you’ve got anything to worry about.” In a purposefully taunting way.

Merlin scowls and keeps working, and Arthur tries again, “Really. All you do is follow orders. It’s not hard.”

And so Merlin looks up, clearly angry until he sees what Arthur is trying to do, so he puts down what he’s doing and starts fighting back, “no, just exhausting when those orders are given by a prat.” Or “Maybe if I had a day off once in a while.” I don’t know, I suck at dialogue.

It goes on for a while, until they get too close to the issue, Merlin snaps, tells Arthur he’s a dick and sobs, yelling about magic, and the great dragon being manipulative, loosing his father, loosing Freya, Gaius lying to him about his father and thinking Uther is a good king and a good man, and literally everything else that’s gone wrong.

Arthur pulls him in and hugs him, then tells Merlin they’re fighting together from here on out. It takes a while, but they work it out.

There’s plenty of “fights” about Arthur feeling betrayed by Merlin keeping secrets and Merlin being mad at his situation in Camelot and then being frustrated that he can’t get himself to feel angry at Arthur (I’ve got a half baked character analysis for Merlin and Arthur’s codependency somewhere in my drafts. I’ll come back to it eventually.) but they’re okay and they figure it out and end up stronger for it.

I’m holding back on sharing the major character death/dark!Arthur angsty alternate ending for this, but let me know if you want to see it :)

Edit: Part 2 - (the angsty alternate ending)

[axelsagewrites]

Best Friend

Pairing: Robb Stark x F!Reader

Summary: after a decade of friendship Robb is finally able to recognise his love but only after his best friend starts looking for a husband that isn't him.

TW: swears and Theon being Theon.

Fluff and angst all in one.

Word count: 2838

Masterlist Here

Robb Stark was so not in love with his best friend who he spent all his time with, who he taught how to ride and swing a sword just encase, who he ate lunch with every day in the gods wood, who he gazed at from his seat at the table, who he threatens every potential betrothal of, who he would constantly bring up in conversations nothing to do with them. No obviously not. Jon was crazy for suggesting the future lord of Winterfell would be in love by his best friend of near a decade.

“Of course I don’t fancy her you idiot,” Robb said as he and Jon sparred, “She’s my best mate you twat,”

Jon laughed as he half-heartedly deflected his brothers blows, “Of course not brother. Why else would you stare at her?”

“I do not stare,”

“You stare more at her than Theon does at arses,”

“It’s true,” Theon piped up from his spot a couple feet away. Robb sparred and learned from Jon and then Theon from Robb. Theon was stood close to the boys waiting for his turn against Robb. It was a routine they had down from their year of training together. “You’re in love with her mate,”

“Am not,”

“Am too,”

“Am not,”

“So can I try wooing her then?” Theon asked.

Robb spun around and pointed his sword just in front of his throat, “Don’t even think about it Greyjoy,” Robb swung his sword back and continued sparring with Jon, this time with more force in his swing. Jon faltered slightly as he quickened his pace to keep up, “We all know what you mean by wooing and if you dare try fuck her-“

“Hey guys,” Robbs eyes went wide and he quickly lowered his sword and shut his mouth, “Whatcha talking about?”

Jon and Theon snickered as Robb tried to ignore his face growing hot. “Nothing much. Just these too idiots,” Robb said and (Y/N)’s smile did not help his blush. “You know what Theon’s like,”

“What poor girl are you tormenting this week?” (Y/N) asked Theon with a grin.

Theon gave Robb and even bigger grin before walking up to (Y/N), “Could be you if you wanted darling,”

The girl rolled her eyes with a smile but a slight grimace at the same time, “You wish Greyjoy,”

“Who doesn’t?” Theon flung his arm over her shoulder which was met by a glare from Robb.

“In your dreams idiot,” she shrugged herself free from his lose grip before turning back to Robb, “You still on for today?”

“Yeah I’ll meet you in the woods when I’m done here,”

“Okay Robbie see you then,” she said as she walked past him, touching his shoulder as she passed, “Bye Jon, see you never Theon,”

“Bye (Y/N),” Jon called after her as she entered the castle, presumably going to the kitchen to sort for her and Robbs lunch. “Not in love still?”

“Shut up and duel me idiot,” Robb snapped.

(Y/N) was already sat by the weirtree in their usual spot in the woods when Robb arrived. “I wish you would wait for me to walk you here,” He said when he approached. Robb was always worried especially over his best friend. You never know who will be in the woods. What would he do if she got hurt? He dared to imagine.

“Nothing bad has happened to me yet,” she said, patting the spot beside her which he quickly filled, “besides you take ages,”

“Do not,”

“Do too. But I forgive you,” (Y/N) smiled and Robb hummed in fake annoyance. “I brought lunch,” she pulled the basket she had brought over, “They even prepared it ahead of time today,”

“They’re probably so used to this by now,” Robb said as he took the basket from her, “Ooo raspberry tarts,” He grinned and passed one to (Y/N).

“Aren’t those for after the sandwiches?” she asked but was already taking a bite out of it.

Robb smiled and watched as she ate it, “But they’re your favourite so why wait?” he said, leaving his own tart in the basket.

The two shared lunch and talked about the random things they had heard through the day. Along with a healthy amount of gossip of course.

“So, who was Theon talking about before I came along?” she asked as she handed Robb her apple.

Robb took the apple and his dagger from his belt and began to peel it for her like he had done every day for the past almost year since they started this tradition, “Oh it was nothing,”

“It sounded like something,” she said, “C’mon you always tell me his latest whorey history,”

“It wasn’t about a whore,” Robb felt his neck grow red and begged it wouldn’t go to his face, “he was talking about you,”

(Y/N) made a face, “Like in general or how he talks about his whores?”

“Id slit his throat if he talked about you like that,” Robb said with no laugh in his voice. He passed the now peeled apple back to her, “Nah he was just being a dick and that and talking about you to try wind me up,”

“Why would talking about me wind you up? We’re best friends,”

Even the way she bit into her apple was cute. Why had it took his friends pointing it out for Robb to realise how over the moons he was with her? And why did he feel the need to spit it out in a stream of word vomit that would surely end the friendship they’d grown? It took everything in him to shrug his shoulders and change the conversation.

The whole subject and talks with his brother had sent his head spinning that the only thing that snapped him out of it was (Y/N) saying, “My fathers looking for a suitor for me. I hate it,”

“He’s what? Why?”

“Because apparently im going to die an old maid if I don’t wow some fancy dancy lords son or ancient lord soon,” she sighed as she dug through the basket for another treat, “He’s talking about sending me all over the north or ever down to the reach to go to random balls and tourneys to try meet more people,”

“You cant leave,” Robb felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs, “You’re my best friend I wont have you shipped across the country to some random old fucker who-“

“I don’t want to go either,” She cut him off, “I don’t think he’s going to send me out the north yet but he wants me to go to some ball the Karstarks are throwing for one of their sons. He’s even ordered me a new dress,”

“You don’t need a new dress. You need to stay in Winterfell,” Robb grabbed her hand before even thinking. The idea the possibility of her leaving. He didn’t want to let her go. Not yet. Or ever.

“I’m trying Robb. I promise I am. But he needs a reason to keep me here. We’re not kidding anymore,” her smile was sad and she squeezed his hand in return.

They fell silent for a few minutes. Robb knew she was right. Hell, he knew her father was right. But he didn’t want her to marry a random lord. He didn’t want her to leave.

He barely spoke the rest of the day. During his family dinner he sat and poked at his meat as his sisters bickered and his brothers argued. His mother tried to defuse the situation while his father tried to stop his wives glares at Jon. His father had insisted he at least joined their private dinners.

None of it really mattered to Robb who just pushed the potatoes from side to side. With a sigh Catelyn turned from her daughters to her eldest, “And what’s bothering you darling? Has Jon broken your comb as well?” Sansa scowled and Arya sniggered to which they both received a sharp look, “You’ve barely ate,”

“Not hungry,”

“You need to eat,”

Robb didn’t reply and instead turned to his father, “Are we going to the Karstarks ball thing?”

Neds’ eyes widened but he quickly relaxed, “I wasn’t planning on it. How come? You’ve never been into balls son,”

“Was just wondering,” he continued picking at his food as his father attempted to lighten the mood.

“Who told you about it? Did lord Karstark ask you? Cause I’ve been avoiding him recently,” Ned chuckled, “I’m still looking for an excuse to stay here,”

“(Y/N) told me,”

“She is going then?” Ned asked. Robb nodded, “Is that why you’re upset?”

“Never said I was upset,” Robb let go of his fork, letting it clatter onto the table, “Just not hungry and was wondering about the Karstarks. Sorry for being informed,”

“Don’t talk to your father like that,” Catelyn snapped. The table grew quiet and his siblings shared concerned looks. Never not once had they heard Robb be snarky towards either of their parents. “Whatever has gotten into you-into all of you, cut it out. Im sick of it. finish your dinners everyone. Robb if you’re not hungry you can leave,”

Robbs chair screeched across the floor as he left the room without a word. Ned laid his cutlery down and stared at his plate before standing from the table and following Robb. The room was silent as he left.

“Wait right there,” Ned called after Robb who was about to go around the corner to his chambers. Robb huffed and stared out a window as he waited for his father to approach, “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry for being snarky,” Robb mumbled.

Ned sighed and grabbed his son’s shoulder and spun him to face him. He held Robbs shoulders and forced the boy to face him, “What happened son?”

“Lord Karstarks and his stupid sons are having a stupid ball with stupid lords who stupid (Y/N) is going to do stupid dances with because her morainic father has stupid ideas,” Robb felt his eyes water but he couldn’t care anymore,

“Well I’m glad you know more words than stupid,” Ned sighed and dropped his hands from his shoulders, “but you shouldn’t be calling the girl stupid for looking for a husband,”

“But- “

“But nothing,” he interrupted him “you obviously love the girl so don’t be calling her names,”

Robb sighed and wiped away the tears that had spilled, “I don’t know why I’m being like this. Im sorry I should- “

“Should. Look son,” Ned sighed and began to walk Robb to his chambers, “Life is hard. Really hard. Marriage is even harder. Then eventually there’s children. Trust me you lot are the hardest,” he laid a hand on Robbs shoulder, “but its much easier when you love the person sharing it with you. If you love this girl, if you truly do, neither me nor your mother would dare try stop you from marrying,”

“But what if she doesn’t want me? What if she wants some fancy lord with silk robes and shiny hair?”

Ned looked his son up and down, “First of all remember who you are. You’re a stark. Women love us,” Robb cringed at his father’s joke, “Don’t think I don’t know about the lotions you get from Maester Luwin for your hair,” this time Robb managed to laugh, “but more importantly its you she spends all her time with. And even if she didn’t want to marry you,” Robbs smile quickly faded as he faced the reality that she may reject him, “eventually you will have to marry. And you will spend the rest of your life regretting not at least finding out,”

Ned stayed longer and comforted his son and told him stories of his early days in marriage. The ways in which he wooed over his already wife and how she looked on their wedding day. Robb had never been more certain. His father had briefly mentioned that even politically she was a good match considering her father but neither Stark cared overly about that.

Jon had stopped by after a while to check on him and Robb confessed everything. The tears and the build up all spilled out. Jon patted his brother’s shoulder, “Of course she’ll marry you. She’d be an idiot not to. Who wants a Karstarks over a Stark?”

Then eventually Robb was left alone. He tried to sleep but it wouldn’t come. He watched the moon from his window and wondered what he would say. How would he even bring it up? Would he propose straight away? Just kiss her. Confess his love first then kiss her? What would she say? What would her father say?

Before he realised what he was doing he was stood at the door of her chambers. he paced back and forth wondering whether or not to knock. It was late. The moon was high. She was probably asleep. He held his hand up to the door and sighed. He waited a minute and then he heard footsteps. If his mother heard he was out here at this time she’d kill him. So, he knocked. Rather quickly. He kept knocking until the door finally opened.

(Y/N) didn’t have time to question the boy before he rushed in her room and she peered down the corridor in confusion. Upon seeing no man with a sword running to kill Robb she finally shut it, “What’s your deal?” she yawned.

“I need to talk to you,” Robb turned to face the girl before quickly averting his gaze. But he had already saw her in her night gown which did little to cover the shape of the girl he had been secretly pining over. It was rare for him to see any women undressed let alone (Y/N) in such a natural state.

She looked down, noticing what Robb had and a pink tinge coated her cheeks. (Y/N) quickly grabbed a lounge robe from her chair and pulled it around her. “What are you doing here Robb?” she asked as she approached him.

“I-,” he stopped himself and looked out the window as he tried to think of the perfect sentence but none would come to him. She stepped closer and Robb turned back and grabbed her arms gently, “I was thinking. You shouldn’t go to the ball. You should stay here,” Robb led her to sit on her bed and she took his hands into hers.

“I want to stay Robb,” she said “but my father- “

“Wants you married I know. But why can’t you marry someone here? You could stay in Winterfell, start a family,” he was almost begging at this point, “Why do you need to start your search so far away?”

“It’s barely a two-hour ride. I’ll be safe trust me. I’ll be with my father and my family and-“

“Not with me,” Robb gripped her hands tighter. It was now or never. Ignoring his body screaming at him to stop he continued, “I want you to stay here. With me. In Winterfell. For so many more years to come,” Robb moved the stray hairs from her face. He had never seen it flow like this. It was messy from her sleep and not tied back or braided like it usually was. He wished to see (Y/N) like this a thousand more times.

“Of course, I want to stay,” her voice was equally desperate as his, “but I’m not going to be gone forever. Its one ball Robb and I’ll be back here. I promise,”

“For how long though? A week? A month? Another ball will come up or a tourney. You said yourself your father was thinking about the reach- “

“I don’t know for sure- “

“I want you to stay,” he cut her off and she sighed in return. Robb edged closer to her on the bed, “Wouldn’t you like to stay?”

“I would want nothing more,” her voice was almost a whisper now, “I’d happily stay here forever with you just so we could have our lunches but my fathers right. I need to find a husband,”

“Maybe you’ve already found one,” his voice was equally low now and with every second they seemed to be closer, “Why do you need to go so far to find someone you already have?”

“But Robbie your family- “

“Have already approved the match,” Robb began to rub circles on her hand with his thumb, “And im sure your father would do the same. But only if you want to. I wont force you to stay but if you want to it would be my honour to marry you,”

A smile fell upon her lips. It was soft and gentle and sweet and caring and everything Robb felt about her. her eyes glistened but not from sadness. This time she was the one to shuffle closer, “Then the gods have finally listened to my prayers. There’s no one I’d rather spend my life besides,”

A/N: this all started because I was eating an apple and didnt want to do my uni work. However I am tempted to possibly maybe try writing some kind of smut sequel maybe possibly (cause I have never wrote straight up smut so I trying to tackle that will be interesting lol)

[lookingfts]

I couldn't resist, here's a part 2 to the glasses drabble.

Don’t take them off. She’s on her back on her mattress, Anthony tucked between her thighs, his hair mussed from how desperately they had kissed on the way into her flat. Kate wants to keep her calm, wants to get off and kick him out before he can say something to ruin it, but her skin is on fire and she’s so slick, embarrassingly so, knows it from the way Anthony’s jaw drops a little.

Don’t worry, he says in a throaty voice that makes her shudder. I want to see you.

The glasses bump against her thigh as he licks into her and it really should not be so fucking hot but she drags her nails against his scalp as her other hand clutches at the headboard. And he’s good, fuck he’s good, taking her apart with his tongue and his fingers and his moans like he’s the one being pleasured. His noises are obscene and should be illegal, and she’s never been with anyone nearly as vocal, wonders if he’s always this loud or if it’s just her.

And oh, that’s dangerous. To think that maybe she’s special.

Better not to think. Better to throw herself into the sensations as he works her open and sucks her clit and tells her to come and she does, all over his face, entirely powerless but to obey.

He kisses his way back up her body, leaving traces of her arousal everywhere in the shape of his mouth, until he meets her lips again and gives her a taste. Kate feels delirious. Far from curing her desire, falling into bed with Anthony is only serving to make the craving a thousand times more intense.

Kate, we don’t have to-

Don’t stop, she urges, sounding too needy to her own ears. It’s too much, I can’t-.

Anthony shushes her, and it should sound patronizing but it helps her breathe. I know. I know, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. Just let me-

She can’t look away as he slides into her, hot and thick, his eyes wide behind the glasses like this is a revelation for him, too. The voice that tells her you’re not special gets a little quieter, diminished by the sheer awe in his expression. Surely he doesn’t treat every sexual encounter like it’s something sacred.

As it turns out, she’s not wrong. It’s the best shag of her life by an unfortunate margin, even with the slight fumbling to learn each other’s bodies, even with the trial and error as Anthony searches for the spots that make her gasp, sigh, moan, cry out. He finds them all, and a few she didn’t even know existed.

The only thing she can really do in return is clutch at his shoulders, his back, his arse and kiss him sloppily. He fucks her harder when she whimpers his name, and she does it again and again until her throat is raw.

Kate comes once, twice, before Anthony buries his face in her neck and groans. His glasses finally fall off, lost in the sheets, as he empties himself into the condom.

Neither of them says anything for a few long moments. Anthony gently withdraws from her and fixes his glasses, laying on his side and propping his head on his hand. The other strokes her side in aimless patterns, goosebumps breaking out across her skin at his feathering touch.

Fuck, she has no idea what to say. Thanks for the incredible sex, see you at brunch next month and we’ll pretend like this never happened? Try not to judge me for my taste in men?

“I can hear you thinking,” he says finally, his hand going flat over her stomach. It’s telling, she thinks, that she doesn’t rush to cover herself up. That she allows him this small intimacy.

“Yeah?” Kate says a little snarkily, her head still spinning. “What am I thinking?”

Anthony sighs, looking at her seriously. “You’re wondering if this was a moment of insanity.”

She snorts derisively. “No, it was definitely that.”

With a grip on her waist, he rolls her to the side and kisses her. For all that they’re naked, it’s not sexual. It’s slow, deliberate, like he’s trying to make a point. “Every moment since I met you has been a moment of insanity,” he says when he pulls away. “I wasn’t kidding, Kate. I would wear these glasses every damn day if it would just- if it made you want me.”

Kate doesn’t know what to do with that. They tease and they dig and they flirt in their own fucked up way, but Anthony sounds tired and earnest and she realizes there’s no going back to what they were. He doesn’t want to do it anymore.

Does she?

“Want you how?” she asks quietly, forcing herself to look at him. They’re adults – they might not always act like it, but he deserves an honest conversation. “What do you want from me?”

His eyes roam her face, and the corner of his mouth ticks up a little. “Sometimes I think you’re purposefully dense,” Anthony says, and it’s almost familiar, him winding her up. She braces herself for him to say – she doesn’t even know anymore. She feels entirely adrift, at the mercy of his next words. “I want you, Kate. Only you. Haven’t you noticed there hasn’t been anyone else in the last eight months?”

Kate wracks her brain, trying to think of the last time she actually saw Anthony flirting with another woman. All she can recall is his attention on her – his eyes on her across a crowded room; his hands on her hips as he asks her to dance with him; his gleeful teasing, like a boy trying to get a rise out of her on the playground.

She wonders what, exactly, she’s been running away from all this time.

Anthony kisses her again, a little more heated, and rolls her onto her back as he settles between her thighs. She goes willingly as he urges her arms up by her head and intertwines their fingers, hovering over her. Kate feels so overwhelmed by the weight of his body, the warmth of his breath, those fucking glasses.

“Give me a chance,” he murmurs, bumping her jaw with his nose as she melts beneath him. “I want you in my bed, Kate. I want to make you feel good. Every night. I want to take you to dinner and call you my girlfriend. I want all of you, all the fucking time. Say yes.”

He’s not playing fair – she’s so wet, so desperate for him that she’s liable to agree to anything. Maybe he knows that. He does seem to know her better than she’s ever been willing to admit.

“On one condition,” Kate says breathlessly, and Anthony lifts his head to meet her eyes, nodding. “You don’t have to wear the glasses every day, but I do insist on them at least once a week.”

His answering grin is bright and broad, and holy fucking shit is he handsome when he smiles. “I knew it was the glasses,” he says, right back to being smug. He’ll be even more unbearable now.

“It was the glasses,” she agrees, dropping her voice seductively. “I was on the fence about whether I was attracted to you, but the glasses just really sent you over-.”

Anthony tackles her into the mattress, kissing her firmly as she laughs against his mouth, and the sudden lightness in Kate’s chest tells her that she has nothing to regret.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Incantation

@wolfstarmicrofic June 1, word count 855

A continuation that is definitely going to end up as a mini-series, (I can't help myself 🤣) of Summer Camp AU. It's been taking up space in my head since I wrote it and I need to write more so here we go 😁

First part

As they neared the wiggling legs, Sirius rushed forward and launched himself onto the back of a tall raven-haired boy with glasses. He wrapped his legs around his waist and demanded a piggyback.

“James, come meet Remus,” Sirius told James as he tried to turn the boy’s head away from the upside-down legs. James turned around and grinned a broad smile at Remus. 

“Hi, Remus, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you. This is Peter,” he pointed at the base of the willow tree. “He’d say hello as well, but he’s a bit preoccupied at the moment.” James and Sirius burst into laughter as the feet kicked out angrily and a muffled voice shouted at them. Remus could only guess that it was a stream of profanities aimed at James. 

“Hi,” He said, shyly. He wasn’t used to talking to people his own age. He didn’t have any friends, and he’d spent most of his childhood talking to nurses. 

“Remus, you look like a smart fella,” James began speaking to him again, the smile on his face seemed to be a permanent fixture. “We really don’t want to have to go tell Minnie we did something dumb again, so do you think you could help us pull Peter out?” Remus looked at the slightly pudgy boy in the ground and hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough. He’d always been frail, it was only recently since the doctors finally figured out what was wrong with him that he’d started to put on muscle mass. 

“I’ll-I’ll try,” He moved towards Peters's bottom half and inspected the hole. “I think we might need to dig a bit of the edge out, widen the hole. Maybe soften the soil with water.” He mused aloud.

“Remus, I think we’re going to get along famously,” James said as he awkwardly wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It took everything in him not to flinch away from the touch. 

“Let the poor boy go,” Sirius grunted as he pulled at James’s arm. They ended up tumbling to the floor as Sirius looped his foot around James’s leg, trying to find purchase. 

Once they’d dusted themselves off, they started working on freeing Peter. Sirius had found a sturdy stick that he was using to gently poke around where Peter was stuck, dislodging pieces of earth. James poured three bottles of water over Peter, and they grabbed Peter’s legs. 

Remus and Sirius had the left one and James had the right on his own. He tried not to think about how close Sirius was to him.

“Right ready? On three. One. Two. Three!” They heaved and he didn’t budge an inch. “Damn it! He’s not coming loose!” James huffed as he loosened his grip on Peter’s leg. 

“That’s because we haven’t said the incantation.” Sirius raised his stick, pretending it was a magic wand. “Bibbidi bobbidi boo!” He chanted and slapped the stick across Peter’s arse. The ground vibrated with Peter’s angry yelling. 

“Sirius!” James chastised. “Okay, let’s try again. On three. One. Two. Three!” They pulled as hard as they could and, with a grunt, Peter came loose. James helped him to his feet and tried to dust him off. Peter flapped his arms at James, slapping him away. 

“Thanks for getting me out,” Peter finally said as he rubbed dirt from his eyes. “Remus, you’re my new best friend.” Remus didn’t know what to say to that, so he just bobbed his head.

“What is all the commotion going on over here?” A stern voice said behind them. There were suddenly four very straight backs. 

“Minnie, my love, nothing’s going on. I’m just introducing Remus to everyone.” Sirius turned to look at the woman standing behind them and took on a relaxed stance and plastered on the most dazzling smile Remus had ever seen. 

“Mr Black, I have warned you about calling me by that name. It is Minerva or Ms McGonagall.” Sirius didn’t seem the least bit put off by her words. “Why exactly is Mr Pettigrew covered in dirt?” She asked, her nostrils flaring. 

“I’m sorry Ms McGonagall,” Peter began, apologising, “James and I were talking, and I wasn’t paying attention and fell in the hole. James, Sirius and Remus helped me out.” He smiled weakly at the second in command of the camp. 

“Uhuh,” She hummed, clearly not believing a word. “Mr Lupin,” She said, turning to Remus. He bristled at being addressed. “Welcome to Camp Hogwarts, I advise you not to get in too deep with these miscreants.” Sirius and James dramatically feigned outrage. She smiled warmly at him, ignoring James and Sirius. “If they give you any trouble come and find me.” She glared at the other three and spun around to yell at another group of boys dragging bedsheets around the camp.

“Don’t worry, Remus,” Sirius grinned at him. “We’re not that bad.” Remus followed the three boys into the cabin, thinking maybe the two weeks wouldn’t be quite as bad with the four of them. That was when Sirius turned around and winked at him. He felt his stomach flip. Or not.

Next part

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

reader getting upset over a prank the boys pulled on her and boyfriend!remus trying to make it up to her

not sure how i feel about this one, but i started writing it thinking i was writing a blurb then it just spilled out; i hope you like it! it was a fun one

pairing: Remus x reader

word count: 1.5k (not proofread, sorry)

“Y/N?” Another knock. “Y/N, c’mon, love. Please open the door.” He’d been at it for a while, and you finally go to your door. You open it, flip him off, and shut it in his face again. “I get that you’re upset, okay? We messed up, but I swear we thought it would only last a few minutes!” You open the door again, glaring at him, and make an aggressive shooing gesture. You’re shutting it again, but Remus puts his foot in the door to jam it. “Hey, sweetheart, c’mon, let me just talk to you, okay?” He looks like he’s approaching a feral animal as he scoots his way into the room with his hands up. With how angry you are, he might as well be. 

You stomp over to your desk and write something on your notebook. You hold it up for him, and it reads, I CAN’T talk you moron!

He chuckles. Bad idea — if your seething glare could kill him, it would. You throw the notebook back on the desk, stomp over to him, and attempt to push him out your door. He’s much stronger than you, and though he lets you jostle him, he doesn’t leave. “I’m sorry; I’m sorry; I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve laughed, lovely. I’m sorry,” he rushes. You stop trying to push him over the threshold. 

“We had an oral exam in Herbology today, you complete arsehole!” you yell at him, and —you’d been holding out hope that it wouldn’t — but your voice comes out just as high and squeaky as it had been all day. You sound completely ridiculous, like you’d just inhaled unreasonable amounts of helium. It makes sounding angry impossible, and you can tell Remus is fighting back a laugh. Not being taken seriously when you’re so upset drives you even further into your rage. You groan frustratedly, and worse, you do something you tend to do when you’re angry: start crying. You cover your face and turn away from him. “Fuck. Hey, don’t cry, love.” He comes toward you and puts his hands on your shoulders.

You push him away and snap, whispering this time in the hopes of sounding less silly (you don’t), “I’m not sad; I’m angry, okay? And you’re stupid prank doesn’t even let me show you that! You ruined my exam, Remus! And I’d been so nervous about it; you know how hard I worked to prepare for it! But how could she take me seriously sounding like this? And I kept getting flustered by and it and, and,” you start breaking down, and now you are crying from both anger and sadness. 

“I’m sorry. I’m a complete idiot,” Remus says, and your head snaps up at him at hearing this — he sounds like you. You just stare at him in shock. “Wow. I sound ridiculous,” he giggles. “What the fuck, Rem?” He holds up a little empty vial. “We’re in it together now, love. As long as you sound like this, so do I,” he informs you with a silly determination. You give him a little shove. “Remus! That doesn’t fix anything!” “Yes, well… I’m working on that.” 

“What?” “You’ll see,” he says. Then, “I hope,” more softly. You’re staring confusedly at him. “Okay, what do you want me to do? Come up with the most embarrassing thing, and I’ll do it. Who should I talk to sounding like this? McGonagall? The entire Great Hall? I think most people are still at dinner. Take your pick, Y/N, and I’ll go make an arse out of myself.” “You’ve already made an arse out of yourself,” you say, the edge in your voice softening. Remus notices, and he clings to the signs of your letting him in again. “Yes, well, being in love will do that, you know? I just love you so much.” “Save it,” you say, rolling your eyes. “It was worth a shot,” he concedes, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “And I do. Love you, I mean. Even though I’m an arse.” “Hm,” is all you give him in response, but your lip is quirking slightly. He ventures a step toward you, and you let him.

“I really am sorry, Y/N. We should’ve been more careful.” You glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he holds his hands up in surrender at your look, understanding immediately. “Okay, we shouldn’t’ve done it at all.” You nod. He adds in a whisper, “to you..” You try to glare at him at this, but you can’t help finding it a bit funny, and you snort mid-glare. He gives a full laugh, and taking his chances at your thawing demeanour, wraps you in a big hug. You groan but don’t pull away. “I’m sorry, lovely,” he says into your hair, placing a kiss there. “I’ll fix it; I promise.” You pull back to look at him, but don’t move completely out of his embrace. 

“How?”

“Well, I have my two best guys on that as we speak,” he offers with a mock-seriousness that sounds hilarious in his current voice, making you chuckle. “What are those two idiots doing?” “What I told them to,” he says with fake-authority. “Mhm. And why aren’t you fixing it yourself?” “Because.” He gives you a squeeze. “I had the most important — and dangerous — job of the three: apologizing and comforting you.” “Well, you’re not doing a great job,” you respond, but there’s a lightness to your voice that wasn’t there before. “How can I make it up to you?” You shake your head and sigh a sigh of defeat. 

“Dunno,” you whisper. “Can you take go back in time and not do it at all?” “‘Fraid not.” “Then there’s not much you can do.” You shift out of his arms and go sit on the edge of your bed. He follows and wraps an arm around you, rubbing your arm soothingly. He looks behind him at your bedside table and reaches over to it then settles back in next to you. You notice he’s grabbed the novel you’re in the middle of. He opens it and starts reading to you. It sounds absolutely ridiculous, and you’re laughing before you can stop yourself.  He looks over at you with the warmest smile, seeing you a bit happier melting him.

“I think I make it sound quite cool, actually.” 

“Oh, you do, do you?” you snark. “You sound absurd.” But you’re smiling subtly and leaning into him. He reads a couple more paragraphs, and you finally stop him, closing the book in his lap. “Okay, okay, stop, Lupin. You’re going to ruin it.” 

“I thought you liked it when I read to you?” “Because I like the sound of your voice, you idiot. Your normal voice. This… this is the opposite of soothing.” 

“Fair enough,” he laughs. “I like the sound of your voice no matter what you sound like.” You squint at him like you don’t buy it. “I mean, your usual voice is a bit sexier than this, but hey, I’m sure I can make this work, too, if I need to, in the heat of the moment.” He jokingly runs his hand up your thigh, and you shove him away with an eye roll. He keeps laughing and reaches for your hand. When you let him hold it, he brings it to his lips and kisses the back of it. 

Just then, the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs makes you look up. Sirius and James rush into your room. They both seem a little out of breath. Remus stands up, not letting go of your hand, and asks them, “Well?” At the sound of his voice, both boys crack up. 

“Keep it together, you idiots! How did it go?” Remus urges them, but he’s laughing too at the sound of himself. James tosses him a little vial, and Sirius offers a self-satisfied smirk. 

“That,” James says, pointing at the vial, “ought to undo it immediately.” “And,” Sirius continues seamlessly, “Professor Sprout —thanks to my unbelievable charm — ” all three of you glare at him, “and Remus’s offer to help her sift the fertilizer this weekend,” he adds in a quick whisper at which Remus can’t help but wince, “has agreed to let you retake the exam tomorrow.” You jump up eagerly, squeezing Remus’s hand, your eyes wide in excitement.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” you say, and when James and Sirius start laughing at the sound of it, you join them. Seeing your reaction, Remus lets himself laugh too. 

Still giggly, you grab the serum from Remus and unceremoniously swig down half. 

“The three of you are idiots,” you try, and unlike your voice, the squeal of excitement that comes out of you is high-pitched and piercing. You’re back to normal. Remus reaches for the vial, but you snatch it further from him and put it behind your back. 

“Uh-uh, lover boy. You’re going to have to earn this.”

 You give him a cruel smirk, and over the sound of James and Sirius’ increased laughter, you hear his defeated but still hilarious voice say, “Fair enough, love.”

P.S. i know sprout was probably after their time, but whatever

[siriuslychessi]

Day 08

@jilytoberfest

“Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime”

The Great Hall was packed that Thursday morning, it was raining outside and the students could not stroll over the grounds before class. 

Lily Evans was cramming for an upcoming test next to her porridge, she was in no mood for Miles Clearwater, that was of course leaving on the table looking at her. 

“You look prettier when you smile, did you know that?” he said, trying to be flirty but Lily just rolled her eyes and continued to read her Charms book as she continued with her breakfast. 

Clearwater didn’t deserve her attention, he was a pompous 7th year student who believed he was the next best thing after the Felix Felicis potion, and everyone should just fawn over him just because he had perfect teeth and a proper name. 

But he was trying to get one of the girls that was not interested in Miles, she never was, his ego was greater than the school combined, and that was a lot to say with Potter and Black around. 

“Why the sour face? Is Flitwick assigning too many essays?” Miles asked, still too close for Lily’s taste. 

Lily flipped the page on the book, still not making eye contact with Clearwater, “You are blocking my light.” she replied, taking another bite from her meal. 

Miles moved his hand and closed Lily’s book wanting the attention all for himself. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime.”

Lily took her wand out, she was done with this idiot that believed that the universe revolved around him and what he thought of everyone. Lily didn't care, she didn’t even like Miles and he was about to know why she disliked him so much. 

She did not have a chance to do so, as someone grabbed Clearwater from the collar of his shirt and pulled him away from the Gryffindor table, towards the Hufflepuff one where he belonged. 

She saw the tall figure of James Potter dragging a very upset Miles away, not exactly punching him or hexing him; which was a first; and just dropped him in one of the seats, having a few words with the guy, who nodded and looked at Lily and then turned to his own table, sitting with his friends. 

Lily, furious, stood up and went towards the group, “I had it under control, I don’t need you saving me, Potter.”

James looked up and smirked at Lily, “Oh I know that, Evans, I was saving him from you, not the other way around.”

“Like that arse needed saving.” she replied back, still angry that she couldn’t teach the Hufflepuff a lesson. 

“Sprout was watching.” She heard Peter replied, “He would have cost us points just because he can’t shut his mount.” the blonde boy explained as he took a piece from his breakfast.

Lily turned to look at the Professors table where Professor Sprout was not talking with the Arithmancy Professor and looking their way. “Oh, I didn’t notice that.”

“Hence why dear James intervened.” Sirius conceded.

“I thought he was going to punch him.” Remus admitted. 

“Nah, I just explained that women have a right to not smile when they find you annoying.” James smiled at his friends and Lily, “Next time I’ll make a distraction so you can properly hex him.” he joked, and Lily blushed a bit. 

Lily nodded and thanked them. 

“I think the Defence Professor could be persuaded to pair you in the next Duelling lesson.” Sirius offered, “Wouldn’t you agree, James?”

James pondered for a moment, “I think she would. Would that be something that interests you, Evans?”

“Earning points while I hex him? Sign me up.” she replied enthusiastically.

[wow635]

First chapter guys!!! My writing isn’t great ok, I know and I’m not ashamed hahaha. It will improve throughout the story but right now I’m a bit rusty. But honestly this is also just for fun because I love creating new stories and scenarios. So I hope you’ enjoy it as much as I do writing it. And the next chapter will be out as soon as I can get it out

“Y/n come down and help petunia make breakfast. Now!” My uncle Vernon calls harshly from downstairs

Now you see my aunt and uncle never really appreciated me and my twin brother Harry. I don’t want to say disliked because they put a roof over our heads but they do it with dread and irritation. I don’t think I’ve ever recieved so much as a smile from them, since the day we were dropped off on their footstep the night our parents died, and it only got worse when we were invited to Hogwarts.

I look at Harry who’s sitting on his bed messing around with something hermione gave him, and give him the look we always give each other when the Dursleys are annoying us.

I head down to the kitchen and get started on the eggs they so rudely demanded. But before I can even process anything, Dudley comes charging into the room knocking me and unfortunately the eggs over

I land on the floor with a thump, the eggs landing next to me one by one, each making a cracking sound. “Dudley!” I shout after him as uncle Vernon comes stomping into the room looking furious at the commotion

"Can't even make breakfast?!" Uncle Vernon bellows, "and you wonder why I never let you in the kitchen! I'm not surprised you let the eggs all fall. Now clean it all up!"

« B-but it wasn't me, he knocked me over » I stammering angrily brushing myself off and pointing in Dudley's direction

Vernon snorts derisively and looked over at Dudley, who did a great job of looking sorry for the mess on the floor. "Now you think I'm going to believe you over my perfect boy?"

I feel my blood boiling. His perfect boy my arse. “Whatever, I’m going to my room” I sigh angrily

Vernon snorts again, "good idea. You're not getting breakfast after all, because of your mistakes," he says in disgust before turning and leaving the room, taking Dudley with him.

I’ll live, that won’t be the first missed breakfast.

I head to me and Harry’s room making sure to stomp as I go up. I scoff as I hear Vernon shout after me “ and don’t you dare slam that door”. I cut off his last sentence by slamming the door so hard it practically shook the house

I huff and walk over to my bed adjacent to Harry’s. I sit down and throw myself onto it my arms outstretched and legs dangling off staring at the ceiling

Harry glances over at me after the door slammed, a look of sympathy on his face. I sigh deeply and run my hands through my hair. Suddenly there’s a scratching noise coming from the window. Harry and I share a look of confusion before we get up to investigate z

We pull open the curtains and look outside. A large, handsome brown owl was sitting on the windowsill tapping its claws impatiently against the glass. I let out a small gasp of surprise and opened the window at once, while Harry quickly untied a letter from the bird's leg.

“Isn’t this the Weasley owl?” I ask him as I bring over a handful of hedwigs food for the owl to eat

The owl takes the food from my hand before flying out the window again. I look at the letter excitedly and Harry tears it open, "It's from Ron!"

I stand on my tip toes trying to see over his shoulder « well what does it say » I huff unable to see it

"He says the World Cup Final is tomorrow, and the Weasley family has tickets!" he says excitedly, "He says they're staying for two days and that Percy got them a portkey from London to the stadium." "Really!" I squeal as Harry adds that we're invited and they’re picking us up at 5 o’clock today

I feel the relief wash through my body. Finally. We will be out of this house for the rest of the school year

"Well, we'd best start packing then!" He says dropping the letter and rushing to go get his trunk “It also says that ms Weasley is going to take us to get our school books, and they’ll take us to king cross station » I say reading the rest of the letter with a smile on my face

Harry grins and gives me a high five "I'm so glad the Weasleys are getting us out of here. I can't wait to get away from the Dursleys!" He says with a satisfied smile, "Now, we should start packing our things."

« your right » I say struggling to pull my trunk from under my bed

He chuckles lightly and moves over to help me, "Here, let me give you a hand with that." He says with a smile. Together, we manage to pull the trunk out and open it up, ready to start packing.

"Thanks "  I say as he turns back to his own trunk "Can you tell the Dursley about this, they're not exactly happy with me right now" I ask Harry as I pack my stuff into the trunk

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I'll go let them know. Hopefully they won't be too annoyed." As he walked out of the room, I continued to pack my trunk, making sure I had everything I needed.

I get dressed and started on my makeup but I can’t help but focus on the long scar on my right eye that runs from the left cornor of my eye, to the bottom right corner of it. I sigh remembering how it happened. It when me and Harry were babies. Voldemort came and killed our parents and tried to kill us, Harry was left with a lightning mark and I was left with that. One normal brown eye, and one bright green scarred eye

Those are the memories that never really leave me. Even though I don’t remember it since I was so young, no one really lets me forget it. Not my aunt and uncle, not my cousin, not even the people at Hogwarts. They all gawk at me and Harry as if we aren’t normal.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair letting it fall on my face a bit so it covers the scar. That’s the thing, Harry was fortunate enough for it to be on his forehead covered by his hair. Me not so much, I can’t do much to hide it

I sit back down and pull out a book. Now all I have to do is wait

Next chapter——>

[bubble7o7]

Mature content

Over 18’s Only

Jungkook x reader

Tease…

Confused you open the apartment door, slowly peeping round it, you try to work out where all the moans and grunting noises are coming from.

“What are you doing?!! What in the ASMR type of shit is going on here?! You laugh.

You walk in and look around to find your boyfriend is lying flat on the floor on his back and covered in sweat.

“I could hear you moaning outside!”

He groans as he lifts himself up from the floor walking over to you he teases and moans

“Oh baby… mmmh…. aaah… mmmmmh….”

He continues to moan loudly, while quickly running round the kitchen counter, willing you to chase him.

“Stooop it!” You growl through gritted teeth while trying to catch up to him!

“Oh Daddy!” He yells

“Jeon Jung Kook!” You yell eventually catching up to him. Your hand clasped firmly across his mouth and the other on the back of his neck.

“Stop right now!” You growl.

“Mmmmh mm huh!” he mumbles

“What?”

“Mmmmh?!” He pleads with his eyes.

“What?!” you say again this time lifting your hand from his mouth.

“OH YEAH RIGHT THERE BABY!” He shouts.

You should have known he’d do that.

You slap your hand over his mouth again and flop your head on his chest.

“Oh my god! Your neighbours have already complained about your singing! Please just Shut.. the… fuck… uuuup!” You laugh.

You feel his hands on your hips and he’s pulling you into him.

“You’re a dick Kookie” you smile turning away from him but he still has a firm hold of you and presses his chest to your back and his mouth close to your ear “Yeah but I’m your dick!”.

“Wait that didn’t sound as cool as I thought it would.” He giggles

You turn to face him, your arms wrapping round his neck/shoulders.

“Let me make it clear… You and that dick are mine, got it?!” You smile and kiss his lips then move to the other side of the counter to finish unpacking the groceries.

Looking back you realise he’s still standing in the same position with his lips pouting.

“What’s wrong?" You ask, looking him up and down. You notice a growing bulge in his pants.

“Fuuuuuck baby..." he moans. "I have a video meeting in like... 10 minutes and I need to shower first, but you’ve… I want you… I think… I like it when you claim my dick as yours”

“Do you need a hand… Baby? You moan as you bend over to put the food in the freezer.

“No… stop!” He protests

“Mmmmmh baby, that freezers packed soooo good!”

“Please stop” he sighs

“Mmmmh Yes, yes, Ooh yes my baby, I’ll stop” you moan louder, sliding your hands across the countertop.

He thumps the counter with his fist.

“Fuck baby I’m seriously going… Please stop” he bites his knuckles.

You slide closer to him, your hand slowly glides up his arm, across his shoulders eventually sliding slowly down his stomach and resting firmly over his crotch.

“Fuuuck” he sucks through his teeth “My meeting…” you softly bite his shoulder, then lightly kiss the spot.

“Ok, go shower!” You cheerfully exclaim, slapping his arse and making your way over to the sofa.

He tips his head back in frustration.

You turn and lean over the back of the sofa and watch as he does his best to try and walk to the bathroom. “This is so unfair!” he whines

“And what have you learnt from this?” You ask.

“Ok, Ok, I get it, I get it, I won’t tease you, and I won’t make anymore sexy noises again…”

You smile a little smugly.

“I’ll just fuck you right, so that I make all those sounds come from you instead.” he shouts leaving open mouthed and desperate for his shower and meeting to be over.

[yallthemwitches]

A Quiet Moment

Sirius thought he was going to get a moment to relax alone in the dorms for once--but all the best laid plans...

For Jily Kinktober Day 9: Accidental Voyeurism.

I thought about resting on my laurels and just posting a excerpt of Ch. 16 of Catch the Wind ( or any of my Snape POV jily fics basically...), but then I've also been toying with a James/Lily/Sirius story for a while---so consider this a soft launch (but don't get too excited---this is very much still just a jily smut fic) ;)

AO3 here

Sirius didn’t get quiet moments often. He did it to himself really, filling his days with endless pranks, music, banter—anything possible to drown out the otherwise existential dread that haunted him in a nearly endless cycle. Noise, chaos, and sarcasm were what he was good at—being silent was not. 

He sat on his bed, completely knackered. The full moon the night before had been a hell of a time, complete with a loose Moony wreaking havoc throughout the forbidden forest. He owed it to himself to shirk off classes, opting for the first time in his life to relax a bit. He wondered if he was doing a good job as he tried to focus on his book, barely keeping his eyes open.

Pounding feet echoed from the stairwell, rousing him from near sleep before the door crashed open. A curtain covered his view, but through the break in the fabric he could make out the untidy hair of James, arms wrapped and clawing around a red headed girl with green eyes.

What the fuck. What the FUCK.

He had known that Evans was starting to warm up to him, fuck, James reminded him every waking second how she now laughed at his jokes and lingered in the halls to talk to him. Sirius had even acknowledged how she had gradually migrated herself nearby during meals, capable of leaning in for a cheeky comment or two about whatever the lads were blathering on about. But this ...Sirius fancied himself a very observant person, but this was coming completely out of left field. 

The couple barreled into the room, James guiding their feet while continuing to kiss, mouth open. Lily let herself be led, curling her hands into his hair and making soft moans when James reached over to cup her arse. 

“This one’s mine.” James nodded towards his disheveled bed and Lily broke her mouth free, taking a moment to regard the space theoretically known as his side of the room. 

“A bed? You spoil me, Potter.” She leaned into his mouth which had begun to trail down her neck. 

“Maybe if we told people about us we could come here more often,” There was a hint of sadness to his teasing. Sirius could see Lily’s brow furrow for a second, but she softened as James' hands wrapped around her middle, pulling her body to sit on the edge of the mattress. 

“ Prat,” She said it through a smile and James caught her lips. “In any event, we don’t have much time do we?”

James sank to his knees. She opened her legs enough to let him slot between them as he kissed her from the inner kneecap upwards, grazing his teeth and leaving pink lines against creamy skin. 

“Merlin Lily, please let me taste you. It’s been—”

“It’s been one day! Not even!” Lily chastised, looking more pleased than annoyed. 

“Don’t worry,” Sirius saw James’ hand disappear under her skirt and she breathed out a high pitched oh, “I’ll fuck you however you want, just let me lick you first.”

She didn’t need to answer, under his hand she was turning into a complete putty, melting like wax in a flame. Sirius hadn’t realized that he had moved into a craning position, trying to peek out of the tiny space where the fabric of the poster bed opened. 

Fuck—what the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I watching this? Am I mental?

James pushed Lily up onto the bed, crawling after her all while not separating his mouth from the inside of her upper thigh. Lily watched, mouth agape and eyes blown, legs angled open giving Sirius a clear shot now of soaked knickers under her skirt. 

She grabbed at his cheek, motioning for him to stop for a moment, then flipped herself onto all fours.

“Like this—we both always come quicker this way.”

James let out a deep fuck and rose up onto his knees behind her. He flipped up her skirt, grabbing a handful of her ass and squeezing. 

“Fucking Merlin, how are you so beautiful.”

Both hands were on her ass now and she pushed into the bulge of his crotch, eliciting a guttural moan. A hand raised off her ass and slammed down. Sirius could tell it wasn’t a painful slap, but it was a slap all the same. James froze up, looking down at the red now blooming on her cheek.

“Oh fuck, Lily I’m so sorry. It just happened, I—”

“Do it again.”

Sirius couldn’t see his eyes at this angle, but he knew his mate enough to know the exact dopey expression bursting onto his face. 

“Yeah?”

“Please, again.”

James lifted his hand again and smacked it down in the same place he had before. Lily let out a soft squeal at the impact, her ass bouncing lightly. 

“ Merlin Fuck, oh shit, that’s so hot,” James babbled, completely mesmerized by how each spank made her ass move under his hand. 

Sirius felt completely out of body, stuck in some sort of purgatory of morals which he was already not the best at maneuvering. Am I being punished?  

He tried to level with himself, weighing the options. Ok-fuck, what would the lads do in this situation? Peter would probably watch also–that little freak, but Remus? Would he scream? Close his eyes and cry? Ah fuck how am I not prepared for this. 

During his inner turmoil, James had crouched down so his mouth was level to Lily’s center. He held her knickers out of the way against her ass with a finger while his tongue started to lap at her. Facing at an angle, Sirius couldn’t tell if he was happy that he was unable to get a full view of James’ work, but if Lily’s response was any indication, he was doing a brilliant job. 

Her hands curled into the bed sheets. With every bob of his head, she let out a mewling cry, lengthening his name until it sounded more like a note than a word. She reached a hand behind her, grabbing into his hair to push his face further between her legs. The action made her back arch dramatically and she used her other hand to fondle a breast still hidden underneath her uniform. 

If it wasn’t already apparent before, there was no ambiguity about it now. This was not by any means their first foray into shagging each other. James lifted his head, locking eyes with her with a glistening mouth. 

“Come for me—come on my mouth. I can feel you’re close. Shit, I need to fuck you soon, Lily. You look too fucking fit, I’m barely holding on.”

He burrowed his head back into her and she let out a cry. 

“Just like that—you’re incredible James. Yes, baby.”

And she was coming. Through it all, Sirius reflected that he really never thought much about watching someone as they climaxed until now. Of course, he had seen someone do it before, but he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to the complete physical shift that occurred. He watched in fascination as Lily’s face scrunched up, all muscles taut before her whole body released like a blank slate. Her mouth hung loose and her eyes stared straight at everything and nothing all at once. 

James continued to lap at her through her shudders, then scrambled into a kneeling position. His cock was weeping as it pressed against her wet center. 

“I’m sorry, I need to be inside you now—fuck I love it when you come on my mouth—”

It took no effort for him to slide into her. His pace was quick and jagged, head bowed forward already teetering towards his own end. 

“I’m sorry–I’m not going to last very long—shit how do you always taste so good. ”

He was slamming into her and the noises of their conjoined bodies echoed through the room. Lily threw her body back against his, head turned to watch him over her shoulder.

“Come for me—I want to feel you come inside me—please—”

Sirius watched as James’ body shuddered, forehead craning all the way to make contact with her back. He let out a string of curses riddled with her name as she kept the rhythm of their hips for the both of them. It was only until the two collapsed that Sirius realized his mouth was wide open and hand had instinctively moved to his groin. 

He jumped the hand away from his cock, semi relieved he wasn’t fully hard, or else he would have some soul searching to do. He laid back on his bed and closed his eyes tight, taking deep quiet breaths. He could hear them whisper affirmations between soft kisses, and he wondered how something so utterly pornographic could fall into saccharine sweet so seamlessly. 

“That was incredible–I really needed that.”James sounded euphoric, even happier than when he had won a challenging quidditch match.

“Wound up from your adventures with your little club?” Lily snorted. There was a sound of a scuffle, Lily shrieking with laughter. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry. You’re… cohorts? Team? Cult?”

“Hey, now you are just being ridiculous.” Some more playful shrieks, then silence.

“I have potions soon.” 

“Stay,” James was doing his best whining voice. 

“Later—I promise.” Someone was moving off the bed. Sirius opened his eyes to watch Lily stand to tidy all of her clothing, smoothing down the mess of hair that framed her face.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else but you for the rest of my life.” It seemed like an awfully big thing to say after shagging a secret lover, but it was James after all—and not just him, but him with Lily. 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Her voice was soft and she didn’t elaborate. The door closed, and silence shrouded the room. 

Sirius waited. He wished that Peter or Remus would show up. That someone would do something that would break him out of the purgatory he somehow was still living in despite the event reaching its conclusion. He peeked at James who had wrapped himself in his sheets, looking as content as a newborn child. His breath slowed and his mouth started to fall open in sleep.

He took his chance. Lightly pulling back the curtain, he placed one foot onto the ground, hoping praying that James wouldn’t—

“What the fuck.”

James' eyes were wide, glaring at Sirius with more terror and shock that he had ever hoped to have directed at him in his life. 

“Please don’t ask me how long I was here.” Sirius’ hands instinctively went up in surrender. 

“How long.” James’ voice was hard, almost pained. 

He blinked, wondering why the world hated him so much. A thousand ideas sprung to mind before he landed on the one only logical enough to keep him alive to see another day. 

“Long enough to see that you are very talented, mate.”

[pain-in-the-riri]

trick or treat!!! 🎃🎃

HEHEHEHE

Here's a snippet from my upcoming fic Motoboy where Remus (aka Motoboy) pretends to know anything at all about law in order to get Sirius out of a bad date while Sirius makes it as difficult for him as possible

He speaks fast as if that will make it more believable and answers the phone. “He’s my uh, paralegal. Hello? I’m actually quite busy, can this wait?” There is a soft chuckle on the other end of the line and then an amused Irish voice says, “Evening, Mister Lawyer, we’ve got an emergency at the office, unfortunately it cannot wait.” Sirius groans into the phone, trying to sound annoyed. “Can’t we handle it on Monday?” “‘Fraid not, sir, it is of utmost importance that you get to the office instantly and…sign…these…briefs.” Sirius turns his face away from Gil to hide the amusement attempting to break through his otherwise impenetrable facade of Good Acting. “Can’t you do it?” The voice on the other end stifles a laugh. “Ah, you see, I would, but I am a mere lowly paralegal and I need parental guidance. I might…sign on the wrong line.” “How long have you been working for me? You should be able to take care of this yourself by now!” “Fuck me,” Motoboy mutters under his breath, stifling a laugh, “Sorry, sir, turns out I’m a bit of an eejit!” Sirius glances up at Gil, who is watching him with a furrow in his brow, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table. He turns away from him again, putting his back to Gil and facing the back of his chair as much as he can. “Look, why don’t you send it over to me in an email and I’ll do it tonight?” He says, then purses his lips to try to keep the smile in check. “Can the capitalist even feckin hear me?” Motoboy mutters quietly but then quickly gets back into character at full volume, “No, no! Nice try, Sir, but unfortunately I need you here now, or we will lose this very important case. The judge is…up my arse about it, and all.” “Ah, fuck, well, if it’s the judge…” Sirius trails off, sounding resigned. “Hold on a moment.” He turns back around to Gil, pulling the phone away from his face and covering the speaker with his opposite hand. He plasters an apologetic look on his face. “Oh, Gil, I’m so sorry, it seems like I can’t get out of this. You know what it’s like, being so important in your own ventures and all. Everything falls apart when you aren’t available.” Gil nods, lighting up a bit at the suggestion that he’s important. “Well, yes, of course. I understand.” Sirius digs in his pocket for his wallet and pulls out a hundred dollar bill and puts it on the table, “I hope this covers most of it,” he says. “Sorry again, it was so nice to meet you. Send Vernon my worst."

"Oh yeah, of course—" Gil says, standing up to shake the hand Sirius offers him. "Wait, you mean best?" "What did I say?" Sirius says, but doesn't wait for an answer as he weaves his way backwards through the tables onto the open sidewalk. "Anyway, have a great night! Thanks for coming out!"

[writingsofwesteros]

Dad's best friend otto modern au where u show up at his office wearing really short skirts or almost see through button shirts and when he asks what youre doing in his office you'd be like "oh i thought my dad was here🥺👉👈" when he obviously isnt, but youre daddy is here so you end up bent over the table

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

“Miss Targaryen.” The secretary nodded her head at you; her too sweet voice was sickly and annoying but you still smiled politely before completely ignoring her. “He is in a meeting…” Her words were ignored too as you strolled through the long corridor. Your eyes never leave the large office in front of you.

The too short skirt for such a public outing had you rubbing your thighs together; a pool of desire moving into your stomach. You could imagine your soft breasts were pebbling against the sheer material of your shirt. The first two buttons undone just enough to have attention without being called a whore.

Well, not yet. There was still time, you thought to yourself as a smirk tugged on those soft, plump lips of yours. Your heart was racing in your ear as you clasped your hands behind your back. There was no knock needed as you cheekily opened the door. Your eyes instantly find him.

Your father’s best friend. Otto Hightower lounged in his chair; a phone to his ear as those dark eyes of his found you. The door silently fell shut behind you as you lent against the wall. You listened to him speak in that low, deep voice that would have soaked your lace lingerie if you were wearing any.

He raised his eyebrow as your hand slowly moved down your chest; in between your soft, ample breasts that pushed against your shirt. You blinked so innocently as your hand disappeared under your skirt. Two of your fingers returned with your wetness all over them. “I will call you back.” Otto nearly grunted out.

Your fingers slipped inside your hot mouth and you began to suck. The obscene noises echoing in the now quiet office. “What are you doing here?” Otto asked, trying to keep his composure as his thick cock strained against his suit pants. “I was looking for my dad.” You whispered out; stepping closer now. 

“He is not here.” Otto hummed, “I imagine you knew that.” He continued and watched as you stood just in front of him now. “I suppose I came to visit my daddy.” You whispered into his ear; softly nibbling on his earlobe. His hand grabbed at your arse without thought. “Turn around.” He ordered you.

A soft gasp escaped you as you followed without thought. Excitement bubbling inside you as you turn. His hand slapped your arse as he pulled your skirt up. “Whore.” He groaned and spread your legs apart. The quick movement had you falling onto his desk. Your soft breasts pushed against it.

“Yours..” You whimpered out. Your heart racing in your ears as he spreads your soaked folds apart. He slapped your clit again and again whilst watching your body jolt. “Fucking be quiet.” He ordered; pinching your clit in punishment. Gods, this was just what you needed, you thought as you bit your fist.

“Coming in here whilst I’m working.” Otto began to mutter to himself, which your heart only pounded harder. You heard the sound of his belt undoing as your legs began to shake now. “You are going to leave here with my cum dripping down your legs.” He leaned over you to whisper in your ear.

“Daddy..please…” You whimpered out; your legs shaking whilst Otto only chuckled. You knew a smirk would be on his face. Your eyes widened at the feel of his fat head against your soaked folds. “Next time you come here; I’ll leave the door open for everyone to see.” He darkly promised before roughly pushing inside you. 

His hips rocked instantly as his thrusts quickened. “Yes ..yes ! Oh fuck..” You began to scream out. Your eyes rolling back whilst his hands roughly grabbed at your arse, spreading your cheeks. “Fuck, good girl…my good girl.” Otto purred down at you, watching a creamy ring form around his cock.

“You needed this, didn’t you?” He taunted and thrust harder; pushing you up and down the desk as well as his cock. “Yes, yes…wanted you, needed you.” You whined; tears falling down your cheeks now as you hiccuped in pleasure. “You are ruining my pants.” Otto purred; his fingers drenched from your wetness by only touching your soaked pussy for a moment. It was enough.

Enough for two of his fingers to move over your perky arse before slipping them inside you. “Oh..oh, god…Daddy…” You cried out; tightening around his cock. The obscene sounds echoing around his office. You were so close; everything was tingling as you whined and whimpered. His fingering only quickened as his cock pushed against your spongy spot each time.

“Dirty girl.” He hummed, forcing a third finger inside you that finally pushed you over the edge. Your eyes blurred as you nearly passed out. White, hot pleasure ripped through you and had you squirting around his still pounding cock. His hand moved to your hips and kept pushing you back on his cock.

You were babbling absolute nonsense now. Your whole body shaking as he quickened all his movements. Drool easily falling from your mouth as you had to keep a hold of the desk. “Fucked you dumb, already?” Otto hummed; his thrusts turning sloppy now. His fat head was still pushing onto your spot before he finally released.

His cum filled you deeply as he stayed inside you. His fingers still moved whilst his smirk only widened. “Good girl..cum for me again.” He taunted; knowing you were so sensitive now. His free hand snaked around your stomach and began to tap on your weeping pussy. “You wanted to be a big girl..cum!”

You jolted with each tap that progressively got harder and harder as your walls fluttered around his cock; milking him for all he was worth. He changed movements and began to harshly rub your weeping pussy. His hand was completely soaked now as the sounds echoed around the room once more.

“Daddy” You screamed out; squirting around him once more. He pinched your clit again and again to prolong your pleasure before slowing bringing everything to a stop. “Good baby.” Otto purred; leaning in again. His mouth softly finds yours and gives you the sloppiest of kisses. Your tongues finding each other as you easily submitted to him.

“Now..clean me.” He whispered. Gods, you knew it wasn’t over. He gently removed himself from you before lounging back on his seat. Your shaking body slowly moves to kneel. “I have a meeting now…you will keep me warm, won't you?” He purred but gave you not time to answer as he pushed your head down onto his cock.

[spiltscribbles]

THE ONE WITH THE SOULMATE | WOLFSTAR FIC

Author's Notes: A reblog is like a butterfly kiss, and letting me know what you think is like a hundred hugs all at once.

.-

“You are seriously insatiable tonight,” Remus rebukes, swatting Sirius’s hand away from where he was eagerly grabbing at his arse for another round of fun, positively delicious, bloody remarkable, mind-blowing fun. God Sirius thanks every deity above that he fell in love with such a secretive, little wildcat.

“Oi, wasn’t the whole purpose of this getting married shtick so we could do that whenever we please?” Sirius harrumphs, flopping back on their bed, starfished out as he watches his ridiculously beautiful husband dropping his towel to the floor and digging through their shared drawer for a new pair of pants. He really tries his damndest to not focus on how the dying evening light filters through their room’s open window, bathing Remus in this resplendent, almost heavenly glow, turning the tips of his eyelashes as golden as his hair and caressing the dips and valleys of his lithe muscles, accentuating the smattering of freckles on his thighs and the dimples he’s got on the small of his back. God Sirius can’t take his eyes off of him for even a moment. “Because if not I reckon I can sue for false advertising.”

Remus only sniffs at him, affecting a lofty air as he pulls on the green, turtle net sweater that Sirius especially likes on him for how it brings out the amber flecks in Remus’s emerald eyes and how it hugs his physique in the exact right breath to show off how bloody good looking he is. “We did that right when you came home from the firm, and then again in the shower less than five minutes ago. Don’t tell me it was that forgettable?” He asks with a pointed hiking of the brow.

“Never my lovely little croissant,” Sirius contends hurriedly, popping up from his lounging position to snatch for Remus’s boney wrists, and dragging the shorter man down to sit in his still very naked lap. “You are the best shag and handsomest fellow and—“ Remus claps his hand over Sirius’s mouth, probably trying to come off stern, but Sirius could totally catch the way the corner of his lips begin to flinch upwards— he’s endeared and Sirius knows it.

“Enough of that bollocks, else I’ll get a cavity.”

“But my beautiful crumpet, I want to sing your praises,” Sirius pouts mockingly, kisses the tip of his nose, while one of his well built arms slings around Remus’s slender waste, with his free hand slowly crawling up his inner thigh, thwarted nearly immediately by Remus standing up in a huff. 

“Like a bloody mutt.” He scolds.

“Only for you my delightfully delectable cabbage,” Sirius leers, finally standing up and taking the proffered slacks so to get ready for this little soiree Lily’s law firm is holding for their fiftieth anniversary.

“When do you reckon these awful nicknames will drop off?”

“You’re the one who said you like it when I speak French at you,” Sirius goads, smacking Remus’s pert arse as he struts into their master-bath.

“Oi, when it’s spoken in the ruddy language, and not some awful accent you’ve conjured up.” Remus counters moodily before he grabs for one of the colognes on their vanity, and Sirius only smiles privately to himself, so beyond besotted with him that it’s getting detrimental for his health, exhibit A being how he very nearly squirts his aftershave right into his eyes.

But God Remus is so worth it.

.-

The ballroom of the swanky, Mayfair hotel is dressed up in all the opulence that should be expected for a soiree made up of the throng of stuffy, stuck up solicitors that are present. Sirius is not impressed in the slightest, even if he can work the room for one of these parties as effortlessly as breathing thanks to his upbringing as the son of a Lorde and Countess; though he still hates the ambiance of it all, so much so that it makes his skin crawl to this day, but he promised to be here and at least Remus is right besides him, with Sirius’s hand in his back pocket and hazel eyes flickering to him every few minutes or so, as if attuned to Sirius and all his mercurial moods.

God he loves him.

“Alice and I have been shagging non stop,” Frank says, which works well enough to bring Sirius’s attention away from wanting to drag Remus behind the champaign fountain so to have his wicked way with him, and back to the conversation they’re all having; even if that means that instead of looking passive, Sirius is sneering over at Frank.

“Dacorum man.”

Frank apologizes, beyond glum. “We just don’t know what to do. The doctors say that we shouldn’t have this much difficulty with it, but we just checked before coming and still, nothing.”

“I’m sorry mate, that’s awful.” Remus tells him, and Dorcas nods along, but Sirius just rolls his eyes.

“We’re not even thirty yet for fuck’s sake,” he tells him. “Maybe ’s a sign for you both to stop trying to ruin your lives with a baby.”

“Shut it Sirius,” Dorcas hisses, kicking at his ankle hard enough to make him wince.

“Ouch, hey! I’m just saying, a kid’s a lot of responsibility, and commitment.”

“I’ve been with Alice since we were seventeen Black,” Frank tells him hotly . “I think I’m already properly committed.”

“Then what’s the point of the kid!”

Frank raises his brows, floundering with no words as if he just could not comprehend Sirius and all his Sirius-ness, which is fair, the only two people who’s been able to do as much turned out being his brother, (James), and his lover, (Remus)… Speaking of which…

“I’m sorry he’s acting like such an arse Frank, he doesn’t mean it.” the sandy blonde says cooly, giving Sirius one of his looks that he usually keeps designated for his more rowdy students. “Do you.”

Sirius glares at him before looking back at Frank and nodding stiffly. “Sorry mate, you and Flores would be marvelous parents, I’m just being prickish.”

“Nothing knew then,” Frank says, but it’s coupled with an amiable grin so Sirius knows he’s off the hook.

“Right, well why don’t I make it up to you by grabbing you a drink? Yeah?”

“See if they’ve got an iced white?”

“Me too Black,” Dorcas scoffs, doesn’t even bother to look at him to make the command.

“Righto,” Sirius claps Frank’s shoulder with a friendly squeeze, winking at Dorcas and glancing over at Remus before he goes. “Vodka tonic?”

“With lemon please.”

Sirius nods, still pecks him on the lips even if they’re sorta in a fight, as if Sirius could ever stay away for too long.

.-

By the grace of God, the open bar is mostly vacant, except for a familiar head of messy hair he’s considered family for over half his life.

“All right Prongs?”

James pivots around, drinks already in hand and grinning at the sight of him. “Wow, didn’t even recognize you for a tick there Pads, you don’t even have your hand plastered to Moony’s bum!.”

Sirius smirks, tossing him a covert two finger salute as he saddles up besides him and orders the round of drinks. “What can I say Prongsy, the cheeky bugger made me vow to have it there constantly, can’t just jilt my bloke like that, can I?”

James grimaces with a roll of the eyes, and Sirius’s far accustomed to that look of exasperation from him by now. “You’re a mutt.”

“Would you believe you aren’t the first person to say that to me within the last hour?”

“God save our poor Moony.”

“Oh God doesn’t have to worry, I’m taking care of him just fine.”

“Are you being gross about my best friend,” Lily asks as she struts up towards them, looking like an absolute diamond, even if her nose is wrinkled indelicately.

“Aren’t I always in your opinion?” Sirius asks cheekily, trying to balance the four drinks in his grasp before she just rolls her eyes and grabs the flutes of wine for Frank and Dorcas.

“Your impossible prat-ness aside, I actually think you being all grossly territorial over Remus tonight is actually a good thing.”

“THat’s a first,” James says, but Sirius can only glare, suspicious.

“Why’s that? Oi! Don’t tell me that absolute plonker Dearborn is here!”

“Oh God no,” Lily startles, shaking her head as if the thought was too insane to even fathom. “’S just the firm’s just hired this new bloke and I’m really quite positive that he’s Rem’s soulmate.”

“Lily! Don’t say that!” James balks, glancing over at Sirius worriedly, but he in turn only laughs at the magnitude of the statement.

“Jesus, Evans, didn’t think you believed in that ridiculous shite?”

“’S not ridiculous Sirius! And yeah, ‘course I do, like James and I are definitely soulmates.” She twists slightly so to kiss the curve of James’s jaw, making him go a bit blotchy. Poor git’s wrapped around her littlest finger.

“And what? You reckon Remus and I are just here to kill some time?”

“No, don’t be a pillock,” Lily reproves. “’s just he’s his soulmate is all.”

Okay, Sirius’s amusement has officially given way to irritation, and he twists his head so to scowl down at her as they make their way to the others. “Alright Evans, explain yourself then, yeah? Tell me how he’s Moony’s supposed soulmate.

“Well he’s French.”

“I speak French.”

“He’s got amazing, blonde hair.”

“I’ve got amazing, black hair.”

“He majored in literature just like Remus.” Lily says airily, knowing that Sirius can’t match that being an architect himself.

“Well— I read all that snotty shite Remus asks me too.” He huffs, and Lily answers with a shrug to her delicate shoulders.

“Fine then, I’m wrong. You’ve got nothing to worry bout.”

She struts off to their little lump of friends as if to cut the conversation off completely, and Sirius is perfectly find with that. She’s acting off her bloody rocker. But, if Sirius stands closer to Remus than usual for the rest of the night, or if he ends up kissing his temple whenever he feels like someone is watching them, or if he glares at one of the blokes working catering after deigning to offer Remus an empanada— Well that’s Sirius’s business and his alone. He’s not intimidated by this soulmate shite, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like he’s trying to stave off the bastard or something. He does all of that simply because Remus is his husband now, and he loves getting to show that off to all onlookers, even the ones who may or may not be Remus’s soulmate.

.-

“We’ve got dinner with Reggie and his latest girlfriend tonight,” Remus tells Sirius the following Tuesday, tossing the scarf his mother had gifted him last Christmas— with a matching one for Sirius— over his shoulder as they stroll around to the front of the Three Broomsticks for their morning coffees, hands linked and the early winter snow catching in both sets of their lashes. 

And God does Sirius love the sound of that, of their schedules overlapping, becoming one almost. Loves the idea that where ever one goes the other follows. Sirius knows that they’ve both have their demons, from Sirius’s neglect and emotional abuse as a child— occasionally sprinkled with a good smack or two if his mother was particularly fuming. To Remus’s complex of never feeling like he can ever be enough, and the way Lyall had acted for years after Remus had come out to his parents as gay, coupled with his multiple hospital visits as a lad until they finally figured out his lupus diagnosis. But they’re better, so much fucking better now. Plenty of the credit going to the remarkable group of friends whom they’ve picked up along the way, but another huge chunk was finding one another, and Sirius knows it in his bones. Knows that there couldn’t be anyone else for him, and sure he knows Remus sometimes deserves more, deserves better— But he’s chosen him, he’s chosen Sirius. He loves Sirius. And it’s remarkable and unbelievable and amazing, and Sirius holds onto the sensation of it with hungry piety.

“Love? Did you hear that?”

Sirius jolts back to the moment, and smiles softly down at him, kissing the corner of Remus’s mouth in penance. “Yes, of course gorgeous. I didn’t forget, I’ll be home early and maybe we can have a lie down before leaving if you’ve finished grading those papers?”

Remus’s laugh right then is like the most splendid instrument Sirius has ever heard, light and magical and warm as a bonfire. “Try to be good and maybe.” He tells him with a cold fingered tapping of his nose before he flounces off to the main counter to order for them.

Sirius doesn’t know how long he stares after him instead of grabbing the gang’s typical seats up front, but is startled when he hear’s a choked out noise coming from behind him and sees Lily, panic faced and eyes wandering frantically.

“Oi, what’s squirming up your arse Evans.” He asks her suspiciously, thick brows furrowed.

“I didn’t know you guys would be here,” she explains so quickly that her words begin to crash into one another. “Oh bloody hell, the one time I have a late start!”

She stomps her foot and Sirius shoots her a fully fledged glower. “What is making you so damn barmy for Christ’s sake.”

Lily parts her lips, but no noise comes out, because right then someone follows her indoors, a very familiar someone if only based off of descriptions. A very tall, very blonde, very smiley looking someone.

Sirius hates him right on sight.

“I’m sorry I took so long at that shop Lily, my mother loves these, how do you say, snow globes?” The stranger says, shaking one for emphasis with Big Ben set in the center.

“Ridiculous tourist trinkets is more like it,” Sirius practically snarls, which earns him a confused look by the blonde and a tired one by Lily.

“Right then, well Sirius this’s Thomas Martin, Thomas this is Sirius Black.”

“Lupin-Black now, ta Lils.”

“Oh,” Thomas says, blue eyes blinking wearily. “Nice to meet you, ah, Sirius.” He extends his hand, and when Sirius shakes it he makes sure to feel the bloke’s bones crushing together, just so he understands who exactly he’s speaking with.

The French arse eventually pulls away, pinning Sirius with a one eyed squint as he curls and stretches his fingers.

“Oh God,” Lily groans, leading them to their spot and depositing herself onto the sofa with absolute exasperation, and Sirius only continues to glare at Thomas as he sits besides her, growing stiffer once Remus returns.

“Oh, hiya Lils,” he smiles, handing Sirius his drink before flickering his gaze to the fucking Frenchman.

“‘lo love, this’s the newest hire at the firm, Thomas. Thomas, this’s my best mate, Remus.” She introduces quickly, the fucking trader.

“Remus?” Thomas asks, dimpling down at Sirius’s fucking husband with bright eyes. And Sirius has to curl his fists so not to punch him right in the sodding face, only growing angrier when Remus chuckles and ducks his head, like he was nervous by him! Like he thought he was in fact very good looking and very charming and his damn soulmate.

“Yeah, blame that on my mum, she was big into the classics.”

Thomas’s grin widens even more and Sirius feels the pulse on his neck beginning to throb. “No, it’s very charming. My Grandfather was very, erm, focussed on those studies as well? Begged my parents to name me Enkidu. They thankfully refused.”

Remus laughs fully now, and Sirius wants to a punch a wall. It took him literal months to make Remus laugh like that— genuine and glimmering and gorgeous. “Lucky bloke. Though I do have to admit that Gilgamesh is a favorite of mine, I think I’ve read the epic twenty times over.”

“Oh mine too,” the fucking Frenchman says, stepping closer to Remus and now in front of Sirius fully, gambling bravely that Sirius wouldn’t try to cap him right here. “If you ask me however, I do believe that he and Enkidu are more than just, friends.” His eyes flicker down to Remus’s lips for a split second and when he looks back up his face is positively leering.

Sirius sees red.

“God, so nice to finally talk to someone who gets it, the professors I work under are usually so painfully heteronormative that it’s crippling.” Remus tells him, smiling kindly.

“Oh, I’m the furthest away from that, I assure you.”

He winks! He fucking winks! Sirius swears to God! He sees the bastard winking at his husband! His fucking husband! What the bloody hell does he think that platinum band on Remus’s finger matching Sirius’s own is suppose to represent! Holy shit!

“I’d love to read anything you have on the subject, most things translated to French are a bit clunky.”

He’s trying to ask him out! Right here! Right in front of Sirius! Sirius is going to strangle his snail swallowing neck! Thankfully, Lily must sense his inner turmoil because she interjects their conversation right then, asking Thomas to grab her a jasmine tea.

“Oh yes of course,” he nods congenially, rounding back on Remus before he leaves. “Would you like a pastry? On me.”

Is he trying to ask Remus to eat it off of him? What the hell! It took nearly a year of them fucking for Sirius to get Remus to bring food in the bedroom, to get to watch Remus lick the chocolate syrup off his cock. And what? Does he think he’s even got a chance so quickly!

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Remus grins and a part of Sirius dies on the inside. “But I’ll come tag along, yeah? I love talking about this stuff and Sirius absolutely hates this ancient rubbish.”

“I do not! I think these dead blokes are very interesting,” he harrumphs, heated, with pouting lips and crossed arms. But Remus only tosses back his head with uninhibited laughter in response, which makes the fucking Frenchman beam that bit brighter.

“After you,” he says with a swish of the hand.

Sirius is going to be tried for murder, and he’s not even sorry about it.

“’s okay love,” Lily reassures him, patting his head dotingly. “We’ll find you someone new.”

“I hate you Evans!”

“Don’t blame the messenger!”

Sirius is about to tell her just how much he does exactly that, but then he catches on the fucking Frenchman putting his hand over Remus’s to prevent him from sliding over his card and all the fight leaves him in an instant.

.-

Sirius ended up not even going to the on sight location for the latest project he’s heading at the firm. He instead spent the bulk of the morning and part of the afternoon grinding his teeth as Remus spoke and barbed and giggled with the fucking Frenchman, like he was enjoying himself. And it was torture, watching the way they naturally clicked and got on— Literal fucking torture.

Sirius is still fuming as they sit in front of his younger brother and his newest bird, a pretty girl named Amal, who’s just graduated from a posh, fashion institute in the north of France. And Christ it’s like he’s being bombarded with the idea of that country all day.

“God that must’ve been such a wonderful experience,” Remus says, smiling as she leans forwards with a grin, speaking louder over the chatter of the busy sushi joint they had all agreed upon.

“Oh yes, the cuisine was simply unmatched, even if I did end up missing London, being home and all. Though I’m afraid my French is seriously dwindling compared to my English and Arabic now.”

“You should ask Reggie to practice with you, I know I love it when Sirius speaks the language.” He winks right then, making Amal crow with laughter and Regulus roll his eyes fondly. But Sirius stays peeved off with his hinged jaw, absolutely seething.

“Bet my hopeless brother recites poetry to you and everything, rose in his mouth and all.”

Remus laughs and Sirius suddenly has the horrid image of the fucking Frenchman doing as much outside the window to their bedroom, and is furious all over again.

“Well Reggie, Remus here does fancy all things French, foods and wines and blokes and just the whole lot.”

“Well good, we have something in common,” Amal snickers, lacing her hand through Regulus’s own over the tabletop. Sirius and Remus haven’t held hands since the waitress brought out their drinks, and remembering as much makes Sirius take a swig of his ail, hating everything.

“Yes well, you can say it’s Remus’s soulmate, France I mean.” He says, words beginning to slur. “He’s meant for French food and wines and blokes, innit true love? You’d prefer a French bloke?”

Amal frowns and Regulus pins him with a one eyed squint, befuddled. But Sirius only gathers his wits about him when Remus clammers noisily out his chair and tugs on his arm to follow suit.

“Reg order us the specials yeah? And a round of spring rolls,” he instructs, words clipped, and a small dent peeking out between his brows, like it does when he’s especially annoyed. “C’mon Sirius we need to talk.”

“But that’d be awfully rude,” Sirius retorts, already hates the flat, fuming tone Remus is speaking with, and feels good and properly nervous for the impending argument.

“They have one another, ’s fine. Now let’s go.”

Sirius concedes and pretends it doesn’t feel like he’s being lead to the gallows.

.-

“All right prick,” Remus huffs, rounding on Sirius right after he locks the door to the single user loo. “What has gotten you in such a bloody awful mood.”

Sirius sniffs, arms crossed against his chest and his head tilted imperiously. “I’m peachy.”

“You’ve been acting like an arse ever since we had coffee with Lily,” Remus counters, reproving.

“Actually love, if you didn’t notice, Lily left about halfway through you and the blonde’s little clucking session.”

Remus furrows his brows now, pillowy lips pinched and looking lost as hell. “You’re angry because Lily left for work?”

“Oh for bloody hell Remus!” Sirius erupts, tossing his arms in the air. “I’m angry because you met your ruddy soulmate and now you’re going to ride off into the sunset with’m and read French poetry together while eating cheese and bread and talking about highbrow shit like Aeneid!”

Remus startles backwards, long lashes flapping and mouth gaped open. “Oh Christ, you’ve gone absolutely barmy. You’re mad.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I feel like I should call someone about my husband going bloody mental.”

“I repeat. Not. Helping.”

“What in hell has convinced you that this random bloke is my soulmate?” Remus asks, back to being patient as ever.

“Lily!” Sirius shouts. “She told me that you and the fucking Frenchman are soulmates! And she’s right okay! She’s bloody spot on.”

Remus rolls back his entire head now, groaning out, “You are such an idiot.”

“Real nice Moons,” Sirius frowns, doesn’t even know how to feel now, the anger seeping out of him the longer he’s standing besides Remus, leaving an awful, clawing abandonment in its wake.

“Did you ever once think to ask me what I think of the damn concept of soulmates? Hmm?” He asks, single brow hiked with pure condescension.

And oh.

Sirius is stuck for a minute there, doesn’t see an out to the question. “Well…. Erm—“

“Well if you had asked, like a normal sodding bloke! I wold’ve told you that I married you because I know your my soulmate you arse! And it isn’t because of some ridiculous notion of stardust or providence or whatever else. It’s because we grew together, and we fight for one another, and even when you’re being a complete prick or we’re arguing like mad you’re the only one I want. Only person I can ever see myself with, the only person I want to try this hard for. The only fucking person I ever want to call my husband! My partner! lover!”

“Oh.” Sirius breathes out, all his fears being strangled by the conviction embedded into Remus’s words. 

And it’s like all of Sirius’s insides melt, like all the adoration and love and reverence he holds for Remus is pooling in his stomach and threatening to pour out his every orifice. And God he can’t even inhale, only scrambles to lock his hands around Remus’s cheeks and press his head against Remus’s own.

“Yeah? You really think that.”

“Hell, I thought the wedding and all would’ve made that clear.”

Sirius chuckles, only lightly, his thumb dragging beneath Remus’s eye tenderly. “God I love you, so endlessly. Please forgive me for being an idiot?”

“Yeah, I suppose I’ll keep you around,” Remus teases, bouncing on the balls of his feet to kiss Sirius’s nose and lock his arms around his neck, and the sensation of it— them knotted into one another— could never be replicated in a thousand years, not like this, not like them. 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Sixteen.

Big thanks to my little audience for your continued support! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,659

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

“Mate, I can’t.” 

Turning at the top of the stairwell, Ella raised an eyebrow. “Ands, come on. Don’t be all shy now.” 

“I am shy, though! The throes of sex addiction gave me some serious brazen oomph that I ain’t got otherwise! He’s on the other side of that door, the bloke I fancy the arse off of, the man I dived on!” 

“Andrea, it’s big girl pants time,” James spoke, leaning against the wall and shaking his head, trying not to find it so funny but promptly snorting with laughter at the look on her face. “C’mon. He’s looking forward to seeing you. And we’ve told him not to be as much of a tart as he usually is. Whether that’ll sink in or not, though, different matter, innit? If he gets too frisky I’ll just punch him in the dick. How about that?” 

“Don’t mention his cock!!” 

Her outburst had the couple in hysterics, Andrea still loitering, making a few groaned noises of discontent. “Would it really be that bad if you shagged him?”  

Ella shot her boyfriend daggers. “Of bleedin’ course, it would!” Many hand gestures followed, James booming with laughter. “She can’t have casual sex, and that’s the only type Steve has. Hello! Recipe for disaster incoming!”  

“Sorry,” he finally spoke through his laughter, reaching for Andrea and pulling her into a hug. “C’mon, mate. It’ll be alright. I’ll stop being a twat now.” 

She shook her head, her jaw tightening a little. “Impossible. Fucking church burner.” 

“What have I told you about calling me that?” He was met with a poked-out tongue, Andrea taking a deep breath before finally moving from the stairwell. James went first, opening the door and pointing right at Steve. “Fucking behave, innit.” 

As soon as Steve saw her, every nerve ending on his body lit up like a firework, remembering kissing the gorgeous redhead, even though only fleetingly. “Hello honey, I’m being threatened to be good but please, just know I really don’t wanna be.” 

“Oh god, he’s even hotter than I remember!” Andrea whispered as she hid against Ella, making a squeaking noise. “I’ll be alright in a minute, I will. I’m just... and you’re... and I set upon you when I was still probably at my worst and I’m embarrassed. Yeah.” 

Steve walked over, receiving a fist in the arm, a pointed finger and a look of warning from his best friend, holding his hands out to indicate his calmness. “It’s fine, Andrea. All jokes aside, it’s cool. We’re gonna have a damned good night for Greenhall’s birthday, and I’ll try to be good. C’mere, give us a hug. It’s cool.”  

Finally emerging, she gave him a little cuddle. God, he smelled amazing. He wore that Jean Paul Gaultier fragrance that sent her hormones wild. Also, though, she could smell something else desirable, but for different reasons. “Is that weed I smell?” 

“I gotcha, Andrea,” Snedders spoke, holding up the large joint. “Come take a seat. I got enough female trouble as it is, so look at me as little to no bloody threat, love.”  

She moved quickly to the side of the tall man with the heap of ginger dreads, taking the joint with thanks and having a few puffs. “Oh! I missed that! Can’t get it round by me, unless you want to be ripped off by the college kids.”  

“Gaz’ll be dealing tonight, pick up and eighth off him. He always has the best weed,” James spoke, taking his jacket off and moving to the kitchen to begin pulling alcohol bottles out. “Right, fuck it. I’m getting leathered tonight, fuck the fucking meds, man. I need oblivion.” He then paused, pointing at Ella without even looking at her. “Princess, don’t you fucking look at me in that tone of voice.”  

“What?” she cried, kicking her trainers and socks off. “I never said a word! Just promise me one thing, though. If you start feeling weird, switch to Coke. Please.”  

“I will,” he vouched, kissing her head. “Promise, innit? I just need not to have that bitch on my fucking mind.”  

Smiling, she moved the thick curtain of black hair and leaned to kiss the side of his neck a few times. “Cool beans, baby.” She could have argued it, she could have put her foot down, but truly it was his choice. Ella trusted him, too, and if he began to feel like hell, she knew he’d make the switch. Plus, he’d have all the guys from the band there with him, and through knowing them fairly well at that point, she knew they’d keep an eye on him as well.  

Now was not the time to worry. Now was the time to have fun.  

Snedders chose the musical accompaniment of the Pantera album Cowboys from Hell as they sat, smoking a little weed and having pre-drinks, Andrea relaxing as the guys made her feel welcome. She thought it especially touching that Snedders and Steve had gone and bought her an airbed to sleep on, since the former was still on the couch, meaning she’d have somewhere comfortable to sleep.  

“There’s earplugs under the pillow an’ all,” Steve spoke, pointing at James and Ella. “Trust me, you’ll need ‘em with them two. Fucking prolific shaggers, and your little friend there ain’t quiet.”  

Ella merely looked pleased with herself, sinking some more cider and bouncing on James’s lap before getting up. “Come on, Ands. Let’s go get ready.” 

“Yeah, see you in four hours, babe.” James teased with a wink. An hour later, and the three guys were very surprised to see the girls emerge from the bedroom all ready to go, all three showering and changing in the time the women of the flat had faffed with hair, makeup and outfits. As soon as James saw his girl, his eyes almost fell out of his head.  

“Shitting hell.”  

She thought he might approve at her choice. Black hotpants, her long sleeved, dark grey cropped top, fishnet tights, black over the knee socks and her high platform boots, plus one of his bullet belts slung around her narrow hips. Andrea had chosen a long, black dress with a split to the hip, a pair of borrowed army boots from Ella, her red hair tumbling free in curly cascade. It was met by approval, too.  

“Right, give me three minutes, lads and ladettes,” Steve spoke, getting up and heading for the bathroom. “Gotta crack one out.” The door shut, James and Snedders snorting in hysteria.  

“He’s not really going for a wank, is he?” Andrea gaped, pointing in his wake.  

“Yeah, he really is.” James confirmed, him and Snedders getting up. “Right, let’s go wait for him outside, yeah? He ain’t gonna be long, innit.” 

Andrea sat somewhere between flattered and humoured that she’d had such an effect on the man, picking up her bag and leaving the flat. To his credit, Steve was out with them in two, grinning, pointing at Andrea.  

“Yeah, honey. I was thinking of you.” He received a swift clip around the head from James, the taller of the men hugging him and telling him once again to behave. Andrea simply cussed under her breath a few times, allowed herself a fleeting five seconds of imagining being under him, then took a deep breath and counted to ten. She could get through this.  

What made it worse was that none of his usual ladies would be out that night, Hester working away for the weekend, the other girls all elsewhere, too. Still, though, Steve calmed himself down enough to actually walk along and fall into pleasant conversation with Andrea, Snedders, James and Ella all walking as a three while James gave a succinct rundown of the afternoon to his friend.  

“Aw, Jim. Fucking not cool, man,” he spoke, scratching his beard as he offered out cigarettes. “Don’t get it either, with your dad being such a top geezer but you mum, well... yeah.” 

“Innit,” he spoke, lighting up. “Anyway, bollocks to her and her shit. It’s my babe’s birthday, and we’re gonna have a fucking top grade night!”  

Walking into The Gallows twenty minutes later, Andrea understood exactly what Ella had meant when she’d told her that when you arrived with members of Nocturnal Descent, you were instantly seen. All eyes fell upon them, one set especially as he raced his long, tall form over. 

“Blondie!” Gaz shouted, running over, ducking down to lift Ella onto his shoulder and carry her off to the bar. “It’s ya motherfucking birthday!” With Gaz, you either went with his high-octane energy, or you learned to, the bassist placing her down and giving her a big hug before putting a pint in her hand, picking up one himself. “Now, I have to redeem myself. Race you to the bottom?” 

Ella clinked glasses with him before they both put them to their mouths. Out of their group, it was she who could down a pint at quickest speed, Ella’s record of eight seconds still unbeaten as once again she knocked Gaz into the shade.  

“Well, fuck me,” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “Making me look like a twat.” 

“You don’t need my missus for that, Gaz,” James winked, moving to put an order in at the bar, having a boot up his arse as he went. A round of shots and other drinks was ordered, a couple of shrill, excited screams behind him signalling Jane’s arrival, Lecter and Adam with her, too.  

The arrival of new friends Mark and Lizzie lead the group to find a table, pushing two together to fit everyone, Ella seating herself on James’s lap to make up for the lack of chairs, Jane not having the choice before being hauled onto Gaz’s. Not that she minded at all. With his boyish, cute face, bright green eyes and long mane of light brown hair, she was perfectly happy to be seated exactly where she was.  

Plus, he was newly single. Ding, ding, ding, jackpot.  

“Did I mention how fucking sexy you look tonight, the wife?” James asked, giving Ella’s leg a squeeze.  

He’d formed a habit there lately, of referring to her as the wife, although they were far from marriage just yet. She couldn’t claim not to love it, seeing it as a clear marker of his commitment to her and their relationship. “You were virtually dribbling on yourself when I came out of the bedroom, so like, yeah. That told me.”  

“Well, I’m shitting well telling you now, in as many words, innit,” he beamed, kissing her shoulder. Resting her forehead to his, she pulled a silly face at him that he returned, falling into happy kisses, feeling someone’s fingers push against her boot.  

“Birthday present!” Gaz spoke, Ella reaching to investigate. “Be discreet!”  

Inside the bag was an eighth of weed, Ella smiling and blowing him a kiss he caught against his cheek before tucking it further into her boot. She then burst out laughing at her sister’s face as Gaz bounced her on his lap, Jane thrilled to be receiving such attention. James nearly deafened her at the pitch of his wolf whistle when she turned and promptly welded her face to Gaz’s.  

“Nah, Jane. Don’t put your tongue in his mouth, princess!” he yelled. “You don’t know where he’s been!” 

“But we do!” Snedders called, Gaz waving two middle fingers around, not coming up for air for a while. Ella knew what her sister would be doing in the early hours, at least. Later that night, with the music blaring and her body all sweaty from dancing with her girls, she went to the bar, finding Steve there. 

“So, how’s it going, tart?” she asked, smacking him on the bum before moving to his side, Steve playfully snapping his teeth at her. “Everything cool beans with Andrea?” She felt two hands at her waist, leaning back against James’s chest, Steve looking over to their table and back at her again. 

“See that girl over there?” he pointed, beaming widely. “I’m gonna marry that girl one day.” 

The look James and Ella shared could have won awards for sheer comic value. “What the shitting hell?” the former announced, reaching to feel his forehead. “You feeling alright, mate?” 

He smiled, picking up his pint of Guinness. “Never better.” 

“You know she won’t shag you just because you say you’re gonna marry her one day, don’t you?” 

He nodded, sipping his drink. “I’ll wait. Trust me, that girl is an encyclopaedia on Tolkien and hammer horror films. Never found that in a bird before. And she reads Nietzsche. Yeah, man. My head got turned. She’s proper lovely an’ all.” Picking up Andrea’s drink, he went back to the table, Ella and James still sharing perplexed looks before she put in their order. 

“Pint of Strongbow and a bottle of Stella, please.” 

“Nah, cancel the Stella. Pint of Coke, mate,” James spoke, Ella giving him a look of concern. “I’m pretty fucking drunk already, but I’m alright. Don’t feel any way other than pissed and happy.”  

Those words made her inside heave a sigh of relief, since she’d been fretting over him in the back of her mind for most of the night. She’d wondered if everything with his wretched shrew of a mother would wear on him, but he seemed lighter for it, cutting ties with her. Perhaps it had been what he’d needed to do for a while, come to the conclusion, make that very hard decision. What Michael had told him was very true, though. You cannot change others, merely the way you react to them.  

They stayed at the club until 2am, leaving and instead of walking, James marching her over to a taxi. 

“It only takes twenty-five minutes to walk home, though,” she spoke, hovering at the side of the car. 

He gave her a look that was pure unfiltered sin, making her tingle somewhere very specific. “I can’t wait that long, babe.”  

It’d be her first time getting to enjoy sex with James while he was drunk, something that he had warned her over previously was quite a thing. “If I get to the point where I’m too drunk to come, I’ll be on you all fucking night, innit.” His warning truly was more incentive than anything, the pair all over one another in the back of the cab, as they walked up the stairs to the flat, Ella finding herself stripped of her top before they were even through the front door.  

Grasping her, he lifted her until she was clung around him, only making it as far as the kitchen units. Placing her down atop them, he yanked at her hotpants, messy, heated kisses shared, Ella pulling him from his t shirt before he sank his teeth into her neck.  

“Fuck, I want you so fucking badly.” he groaned, grasping her tights at the crotch and tearing them, the action sending lightning to fork through her insides, decimating her underwear in the same way as she undid his jeans. Those and his boxers only got pushed as far as his thighs, James dragging her to the edge of the counter, sinking himself into the hot clutch of her cunt with a deep groan as her legs tightened around his waist.  

“Ahhh, fuck,” she panted, dragging her fingers through his hair, “that’s exactly what I’ve wanted all bleedin’ night.” Their mouths met in a hungry clash, ecstasy pouring molten over her bones as he fucked her hard and fast, hands clutching her bum so hard, his short nails left crescents. Lifting her with one arm, his free hand shredded the remainder of her tights, bouncing her on his cock as he slapped her, handprints joining the nail marks, making her squeal as he carried her to his bedroom somewhat awkwardly.  

She was thrown onto the bed, both removing the remainder of their clothes, James moving to kneel between her legs and throw them over his shoulders, slipping back into her with an almost predatory grunt. Much to his displeasure, unlike most times when he was drunk, he began to feel those telltale tingles pulsing at the base of his cock, knowing he needed to calm down a little.  

Pulling from her, his mouth kissed scorching paths over her beautiful skin, every curve bitten upon, tongue sinking into the dewy warmth of her folds as his hands bracketed her waist.  

Her little gasps filled the bedroom, her feet coming to rest upon his wide back, Ella very content to let him be merciless with his tongue instead. “You always look so content with me in your mouth.”   

Letting go of the suck he had upon her with a little slurp, he pushed the petals of her cunt apart, the tip of his tongue beating quickly over her clit. “Innit, babe.” His tongue returned to tease licks at her bud, quick and light, followed by slow, firmly delivered rolls, Ella’s eyes rolling into the back of her head as it thudded back into the plush covers beneath them, a long, blissful moan fluttering from her mouth.  

And if he wasn't good enough at the actual act of ruining her with his mouth, it was how complimentary he was of her, too.  

“Do you have any idea how fucking pretty your pussy is?” he mumbled, long, slow licks sending lighting pricks darting up her spine. “Seriously top grade.” He’d told her that often, but she never got tired of hearing such affirmations.  

With James, she’d never felt so desired, his lips wrapping her clit in a snug suck, his eyes finding hers, winking at her as he increased the pressure, groaning as her legs began to quiver. “Mmm, yeah, darlin’. Come all over my tongue.”   

Her pants became urgent as the pleasure intensified, her hands gripping the duvet as her back arched. “Fuck, oh god!” With those gritted words, her waves broke over his shore, ceaseless tides flowing, her body humming with it as his tongue gentled against her, running up her inner thigh, his eyes finding hers.   

Leaning to her, their mouths connected in smouldering, dirty kisses, his hands gently squeezing the small, yet perfect rounds of her breasts, knocking the breath from her lungs as his cock arrowed right up into her.   

“Fuck, I love you.” He whispered, mouth upon hers again, Ella buzzing with the way scorching heat met the tenderness of their love, her own declaration knocked from her when he pushed so deep, all she could do was wail. Her hands clutched at the thick planes of muscle at his shoulders, anchoring herself to him as he wasted no time in beginning to dagger her cunt with speed, their tongues rolling against the other, panting hard, moaning low.   

His cock scraped sparks of pure, sinful embers against her walls, James slowing from the urgent veracity, his mouth at her neck as his hands slid to grip her thighs, his short nails marking the lily white of her skin with red crescents, dragging scratches. Speed spurred him once more, his eyes falling to watch his glistening cock spearing her rapidly, his heart skipping beats at the decadently erotic sound of her little cries, leaning to her, his mouth stealing kisses steeped in filthy indulgence.   

“Mmm, I love the way you fuck me, my sexy church burner,” she purred, her nails trailing his neck, losing herself to the heat of their kisses, panting against his tongue. “Never bleedin’ going to get tired of it.” 

He laughed quietly, moving his mouth, kissing her throat, teeth gently nipping her earlobe. “Never have to, either.” The way he felt about her, the bond they had that ran so much deeper because of how they’d met, James knew he would never, and could never part from her. She was his present and future.   

Instead of lying there and taking the pounding he gave her, she worked back against him, hips rolling in a figure of eight, sucking her fingers with a sensual moan, reaching to rub her clit, staring at him unblinkingly, lips flushed, chest heaving, looking like the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his entire life.   

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she cried out each time his hardness hit her deeply, filling her entirely to the hilt again and again as her walls twitched and clasped around him, enveloping him in slippery warmth.  

Sliding his arm under her leg he then levered it up, her knee touching her shoulder and allowing for the kind of deeper penetration that made her virtually whimper with ecstasy, his hand gently clutching her neck as they continued to kiss. It was so hot, so erotically charged that she felt light headed with pleasure, crying out breathlessly, his public bone grinding against her clit with every single thrust that invaded her. God, he knew how to fuck.  

Looking up at him she felt her heart skip several beats, James resting his forehead to hers and running his fingertips down her cheek before he began kissing and licking the side of her neck, Ella closing her eyes, tingling ecstasy glimmering through to her marrow. It was heated, primal, raw sex, the type she’d very much become accustomed to, being with him.  

Her breathing became ragged as he began moving so hard and quick within her dripping wet walls, that his guttural groans of an all-consuming, white-hot orgasm were the catalyst to her own, both beyond control as they slipped over the edge, the build-up now giving way to the utter divine. Divinity was where they floated, catching their breath, James kissing her breasts as his chest heaved. 

It wasn’t the only time that night he chased her into such bliss either. Oh no. Never let it be said that drunk James didn’t have an agenda where sex was concerned, that agenda being to enjoy it until he physically couldn’t any longer.  

[smilingformoney]

Sharing Part III | Lionel/Reader/Eli

These two have taken over my brain send help

Now with surprise appearance from Sinclair and Betty!

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

Apparently luck was on Lionel’s side, because a month or so later - during which time your flirting hadn’t ceased one bit - you were on your way to London.

It wasn’t for the best of reasons - you discovered on Thursday night that your uncle back in England had died and the funeral was on Monday, so you were very suddenly trying to book flights and accommodation at the last minute.

You: Urgent. Cheapest way to get last-minute tickets to London?

Lionel: Are you that desperate for me?

You: Family stuff. Any tips?

Lionel: When do you need to leave?

You: ASAP. Family thing is on Monday.

Lionel: I’ll sort it. Hold tight.

You: My hero ❤️

Less than twelve hours later, you were at the airport with a boarding pass Lionel had emailed to you. He had apologised profusely that you were flying commercial - apparently he had a private jet, because of course he did - but at the very least he’d managed to secure you a business class ticket.

Business class was fancy. You were generously paid by your university - far more than a literature professor should, even if you had a doctorate - but things like flight class upgrades were luxuries you’d never seen the value in.

But you might just change your mind on that. There was no way you could go back to being packed into economy like sardines now that you’d experienced the luxury of business class.

You were almost disappointed when the plane landed in London and you had to get off, but at least your dual nationality meant you could get through immigration quickly with your British passport. Lionel had told you to expect a driver to be waiting, so when you saw a man holding a sign bearing your name, you introduced yourself to him and let him take your bags to the car.

Even the car was a luxury. Lionel had really gone all out for you - but, then again, the man was filthy stinking rich. This was probably the minimum standard for him.

The driver pulled into the underground car park for a fancy-looking building, which you presumed to be your hotel, which was no doubt also very fancy and far too expensive.

He took you and your bags to a lift within the car park and handed you a key, telling you to use it to take you straight to number 69.

You wondered if Lionel had picked that room number intentionally. Probably.

The lift ascended, and you felt extremely out of place. Even the damn lift was fancy! And here you were in your baggy, worn out flying clothes. If anyone saw you, they’d probably think you’d snuck in and try to kick you out.

The lift finally reached its destination and you stepped out directly into the room, which could only be described as an entire apartment. What sort of fancy hotel had direct lift access to the rooms?

Your question was answered when you turned your head and saw the artwork on the wall.

It wasn’t a hotel room at all. It was Lionel’s penthouse.

“Fucking bastard, Lionel,” you muttered under your breath.

“Is that any way to address your host?”

Sure enough, Lionel was descending the stairs, an animal-print robe wrapped loosely around his torso, leaving just enough of a gap that you could see his chest hair poking out.

You’d sworn you’d wait at least to say hello before you jumped him, but… fuck it. You met him at the bottom of the stairs and your lips were on his instantly.

You felt him smiling into the kiss as his arms snaked around your back, one hand cupping your arse. He pushed against you lightly, and you were like putty in his hands, immediately falling back against the wall, allowing him to trap your body against his.

“I hope you don’t mind if I don’t wine and dine you first,” he growled in your ear as your kisses moved up his jawline. “I’ve been waiting far too long to have you.”

“God, no, fuck that. Take me out later. Right now I just need you to take me.”

You could feel his erection pressing up against you, his robe threatening to come apart, and of fucking course he wasn’t wearing any underpants. You grabbed clumsily against his chest as you tried to open his robe, and Lionel chuckled.

“Not here, love. I have quite a comfortable bed I think you’d much prefer over the wall.”

“We could be behind the fucking bins at Taco Bell, I wouldn’t care. I just - just fucking need you, Lionel - fuck, please —“ You muttered your pleas between kisses on his neck, and Lionel moaned when your teeth grazed his skin.

“Ohh, yes, I’ll take you, [Y/n]. You won’t ever want to leave London again - you won’t want to leave my bed again. You’ve entered the lion’s den now, love. Prepare to be… devoured.”

He pulled away from you slightly, causing you to gasp in surprise at the sudden absence of his skin against your lips, and he gestured for you to lead up the stairs.

“Looking for a view of my ass?” you teased.

He smacked your left cheek for that.

“If I want to see your arse, I know you’ll show me. I don’t need to trick you. Here - this room on the left.”

“How many bedrooms do you have?”

“Only five.”

Only?

You always thought your apartment was a bit big for one person. Lionel was one person too, and yet the master bedroom he was leading you into was bigger than your entire apartment.

You’d be disgusted at the obscene wealth if you weren’t so horny.

You were still gaping at the size of the bedroom when Lionel wrapped his arms around you from behind, and you felt his erection pressing into your ass. He slipped one hand into your pants and you gasped at the sudden intrusion as he cupped your pussy with his large hand.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget how to walk,” he growled in your ear seductively.

“Please,” you begged, throwing your head back onto his shoulder as his fingers began teasing at your folds. His other hand slipped under your t-shirt and grabbed at your breast, causing you to gasp when he squeezed your nipple.

“Gah - fuck - please, Lionel - please fuck me, please, please, please —“

He smirked as he placed a kiss to your jaw.

“Do you not need foreplay? Or is my lioness hungry already?”

“We’ve had months of foreplay, Lionel. I’m done waiting.”

“Mmm… I suppose you’re right. Get naked and get on the bed.”

“Yes, sir.”

You almost stumbled over your own feet to get to the bed and undress at the same time, and Lionel just laughed.

“I knew you’d be eager. That’s why I didn’t bother getting dressed.”

He dropped his robe, and just as you’d suspected, he was stark naked underneath.

“Where are your condoms?” you asked.

“In the drawer.”

You reached over into his bedside cabinet, and stifled a giggle when you saw his box of condoms was right next to a copy of the Karma Sutra.

“There are a lot of fun positions in there we can try,” Lionel said when he saw you looking. He took the condom from you and began to roll it down his shaft. You watched his movements, practically drooling at his cock. “But we’ll experiment later. For now, I want to see your face as I fuck you for the first time.”

Lionel climbed on top of you and kissed you, hard and passionate, as if the only air he could breathe was that from your lungs. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging onto him desperately, your hips bucking up towards him in a desperate plea.

He unstuck his face from yours, both of you panting for air, and Lionel looked at you with a surprising amount of tenderness.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and with a swift thrust he slipped inside you.

You both groaned in relief, months of sexual tension finally paying off. He fit perfectly - just the right amount of stretch, and when he bottomed out, you could feel his tip pressing snugly against your G-spot.

He paused once he was sheathed inside you, his eyes closed as he savoured the feeling of being buried inside you.

“Lionel…”

He grunted in response, his eyes flickering open to look at you with a wild lust in his eyes.

“Devour me.”

Lionel grinned and his eyes flashed dangerously.

“With pleasure, love.”

He set a brutal pace, and you had to hold onto him to stop yourself from being thrown around on the bed - not that that was an unpleasurable idea, but for now you liked being sandwiched between his body and the mattress as his hips rammed into you as if he was trying to hammer you into the bed.

“You’re right, we don’t need foreplay,” Lionel said smugly as he lifted himself into a kneeling position, keeping his brutal pace going the whole time. “You’re soaked.”

“I’ve been wet for you f - for months, Lionel - ah!” You squeaked when his hand reached between your bodies and he began rubbing your clit with his thumb, just adding to the anguishing pleasure you felt burning through you, and you wondered if he’d consulted his Karma Sutra on how to pleasure the clit just right - either that or he was just a natural at pleasuring women.

“You know, I fucked Polly from accounts last week and - ugh - the whole time I thought of you. You’ve - mhm - you’ve ruined other women for me, love. Even before I’d had you. And now I have - hahhhh - now I have, I’m afraid they’ll all pale in comparison.”

You grinned cheekily. “That’s what they all say.”

Lionel’s grip on your thigh tightened, and he shook his head.

“I mean it. Fuck. Even your tits are perfect.” He eyed them hungrily, watching the way they bounced with each of his thrusts, the way your chest shuddered slightly with each moan. He increased the pace of his thumb on your clit, and you cried out.

“Lionel!”

Your hands gripped the sheets, desperate for some sort of purchase as your whole body shook with each of Lionel’s thrusts. You were close, you knew it, and when you felt the familiar flame burning inside you, you knew there was no stopping it.

“Lionel, I - I’m gonna cum, I —-“

“Yes, love, that’s it, cum on my cock - let me hear you —“

“Oh god, Lionel… Lionel!”

You screamed his name as you came, your muscles spasming and your walls clenching tight around his length. Lionel gritted his teeth, a low rumble building in his chest, and your name tumbled out of his mouth as he came, cock pulsing, and you were hit with a desire to feel him fill you with his seed.

He held your hips flush against his, his cock twitching inside you as he panted, his brain empty and dizzy with nothing but the bliss of you.

After a few moments, Lionel pulled out of you and you reluctantly climbed out of the bed to go to the bathroom. When you came back, Lionel had discarded his condom but had made no effort to put his clothes back on. He beckoned you towards him, a satisfied smirk on his face, and you clamboured under the blankets with him.

Lionel wrapped an arm around you and held you close, as if without your body heat he would freeze.

“Hello,” he mumbled with a chuckle.

“Hi.”

You both laughed.

“How was your flight?” Lionel asked, adjusting himself slightly on the bed so he could look at you and hold you at the same time.

“Amazing. I didn’t want to get off. I’ve never flown business before.”

“Really? Much better than first, isn’t it?”

You scoffed. “Lionel, I’ve never flown anything other than economy.”

“What?” he said incredulously. “Packed in like sardines with god knows who?”

“Well, sometimes I use my flying points to upgrade to economy plus.”

“Outrageous. That university should be paying you far more if you feel you have to slum it in economy.”

“I teach literature, Lionel. Nobody cares about literature. The money’s in science.”

“Nonsense, the arts are extremely important!”

“You’re only saying that because you run a media company. You need us artists, or you wouldn’t have anything to sell.”

“First of all, I run multiple media companies —“

“Oh, sorry, of course.”

“— and second, I run them because I believe art is important. So brilliant people like you can continue creating. You’re welcome.”

You laughed, and you were about to respond when your phone began ringing from where you’d tossed it on the floor when getting undressed.

Lionel, who had a better view of the phone, peered over at it.

“Pfft, you’ve barely landed and Michaelson misses you already.”

“I’ve barely landed and you’re fucking me already.”

Lionel grinned. “That’s true.” He leant out of the bed to grab the ringing phone and tossed it to you. “Go on, better not keep Daddy waiting.”

You rolled your eyes at him and answered the phone.

“Hi, Eli.”

“[Y/n], where are you? I’ve come to your office and you’re not here.”

“No, I’m off today.”

“Off? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you sick?”

“Yes, off. I didn’t tell you because it was last-minute and you’re not my keeper. And no, I’m not sick.”

“Well, when are you coming back?”

“Erm - I’m not sure, actually. Lionel, when’s my flight back?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t booked it yet.”

“Lionel?” Eli repeated down the phone, flabbergasted. “You took off at the last minute to see Lionel?”

“No, of course not! I had to get to London quickly and —“

“Yes, I’m sure you did. I thought you were a professional, [Y/n]. I can’t believe you booked the day off work to fly to London for a shag, as you lot like to call it —“

“Eli! Will you shut up? My uncle died, dickhead, his funeral’s on Monday. Lionel was kind enough to get me a last-minute flight and put me up for the weekend.”

“Oh, yeah? Fucked him yet?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I knew it! Barely off the plane and you’re already spreading your legs.”

“Put him on loudspeaker,” Lionel muttered to you. You sighed and did so, hoping if they hashed it out quickly it’d be over sooner.

“Michaelson! You need to learn to share, mate. You both made it clear you’re not a couple, so what’s your problem? Or are you only interested in fidelity when it’s one-way? Speaking of which, found any more bastards lately?”

“Ah, fuck off, Shabandar. [Y/n], you better get back soon as you can. You’re in for a hell of a punishment.”

He hung up.

“Prat,” Lionel spat. “Does he always speak to you like that?”

“He’s an asshole, sure, but he’s not usually that bad. He’s just - well, not jealous, I don’t think. I think he’s just annoyed because he likes the idea that he’s fucking multiple women but I’m only fucking him.” You paused. “Aw, man, I’m just a replacement for his ex-wife, ain’t I?”

“You are a lot of things, [Y/n], but you’re certainly no one’s wife.”

“Damn straight.” You tossed the phone aside and leant back into Lionel’s arms. He smiled and held you happily, both of you glad you could finally feel one another’s warmth.

“Have you ever been married, Lionel?” you asked absentmindedly.

“No. Never found a woman I’d want to commit to.”

“So you’re too much of a man whore?”

Lionel chuckled, and you could feel his deep laugh reverberating through his chest.

“Precisely. Just like you’re too much of a slut. Would you marry either one of us if it meant you could never have the other?”

“You’re rich, so yes, I’d marry you.”

“So shallow, [Y/n]!” Lionel said in mock surprise. “Have you been flirting with me all this time just to get to my wallet?”

“No, the other thing in your pants. But the hefty wallet’s pretty nice too.”

Lionel smiled and kissed the top of your head surprisingly gently. “Did you want to get dinner tonight? It’s on me and my hefty wallet. Anything you need while you’re here is on me.”

“Hmm… I’ll be honest with you, I’m not too keen on putting any more clothes on today.”

“Good point, nor am I. We’ll order in, then, and tomorrow we’ll go out for lunch. I have a charity event tomorrow night if you’re interested. Very fancy party, lots of rich people mingling and writing generous cheques to show how rich and altruistic they are. I’m sure you’ll find yourself a rich husband there.”

“I doubt anything I’ve packed will be suitable —“

“Then I’ll buy you a dress in the afternoon, after we go out for lunch. Please say you’ll come, [Y/n], these things are horrifically boring. I’m richer than everyone else there, so their displays of wealth are so tedious.”

You turned your head to look up at him with a smirk. “Why would I go looking for a rich husband at this party if I’m already fucking the richest man there?”

“So you can fob him off to fuck me instead.”

You laughed, then turned around to throw a leg over his lap, straddling him, his half-erect cock pressing against your thigh.

“I seem to recall you saying you always get what you want, so do I really have a choice here?”

Lionel grinned. “You’re a quick learner.”

“You think? Let me see how quickly I can learn the best way to ride you…”

***

It was very, very dangerous how much you were enjoying spending time with Lionel. From waking up to his face between your legs, to lunch at a fancy restaurant and shopping in the afternoon, you could definitely get used to being spoilt.

And on top of treating you well, he was good company too. He was witty and he had a way of making you feel comfortable with him, even in unfamiliar surroundings. You bonded over a mutual love of all things artistic - not just paintings, as were his passion, and literature, as was yours, but you had similar tastes in theatre, music and cinema.

When it was time to leave for the charity event, you met Lionel at the bottom of the stairs where he was standing looking out the window as he waited for you in a perfectly fitted tux, which was no doubt tailor-made.

“Well, don’t you look handsome!” you said, eyes raking up and down his body, containing the urge to rip the tuxedo off him.

Lionel turned around, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw you.

“Wow, [Y/n]…”

“Do I look alright? I wasn’t sure what to do with my hair, so I figured I’d just curl it —“

“You’re beautiful.”

He said it so suddenly, so sincerely, that it made you blush.

“Oh - erm - thank you. I won’t look out of place?”

Lionel shook his head incredulously and approached you to wrap his arm around your waist.

“Darling, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb only because you’ll outshine them all. All eyes will be on the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“Lionel, stop it, you’re making me blush!” you giggled, but you loved to hear such sweet words coming from him.

“And you still look beautiful with your cheeks glowing red. Shall we, then?” He offered you his arm.

“Yes, let’s,” you said, taking his arm gratefully and allowing him to guide you to the elevator.

The party might have been tedious to Lionel, but you were having a great time. He introduced you to so many people that you lost track, but you did meet a few famous faces you were a little starstruck by.

“Ah, and here’s my cousin, late as usual!” Lionel announced as a man around his age, bearing some resemblance to him, arrived with a smile on his face and a slightly younger woman on his arm, who looked just as nervous to be there as you were.

“Lionel!” the cousin announced cheerily. “Good to see you, cuz!”

He wrapped his arms around Lionel in a big bear hug, which Lionel tolerated with a pat on the back before stepping back.

“[Y/n], this is Sinclair Bryant, my cousin. As you can already tell, he has no respect for decorum or timekeeping.”

If Sinclair heard the insult, he showed no sign of it, as he was still beaming as if seeing Lionel was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“[Y/n]? How lovely to meet you! You know, our great-great-grandmother was called [Y/n], wasn’t she, Lionel?”

Lionel shrugged. “Was she? I wouldn’t know. Sinclair has the family history memorised,” he explained to you, “along with every other fact known to man.”

He turned his attention to Sinclair’s companion and smiled, a familiar twinkle in his eye, and a twist in your stomach suddenly reminded you of Eli. You hadn’t heard from him since last night’s phone call.

“And Elizabeth, looking lovely as always, dear.” Lionel took Elizabeth’s hand and kissed it with a flirtatious smile, and she blushed.

“I’ve told you before, Lionel, you can call me Betty.”

“Betty, of course. Now, if you ladies don’t mind, I have some business to discuss with Sinclair.”

“Now?” you said. “Aren’t we at a party?”

“Yes, and if we don’t catch each other now, it won’t be until Christmas. Now, Sinclair, about those reports you sent me…”

The two men wandered off, and you excused yourself for some air, finding your way out to the balcony, which you were relieved to find was empty.

As if he psychically knew you were thinking about him, your phone rang and sure enough Eli was calling.

“How’d you know I was thinking about you?”

“Because you’re always thinking about me. How’s the party?”

“Good, but I feel so out of place. Met some interesting people though. Hey, wait, how did you know about the party?”

“It’s on Twitter.”

“Since when do you use Twitter?”

“Since this morning. You know Lionel’s super famous, right? Being filthy rich does that. Everything he does gets tweeted. There are photos of you two all over the internet.”

“What?!” you gasped.

“Yep. Lionel Shabandar and mystery woman at lunch… Lionel Shabandar and mystery woman go shopping… Mystery woman accompanies Lionel Shabandar to charity gala… Oh, now here’s an interesting comment. ‘Isn’t this the same woman who went to Shabandar’s Christmas party with Eli Michaelson?’ You’re really making a name for yourself. Or you would be if anyone knew your name…”

“Fucking hell. Nah, I can’t have this, Eli. I can’t have my personal life plastered all over the internet!”

“Should have thought of that before you fucked a Nobel Laureate and one of the richest men in the world.”

“Oh piss off, you are not using this to excuse your jealousy. Look, I have some fame of my own, okay? Maybe not like you two do but I am known in lit circles, and the last thing I want is for my name to be associated with who I’m dating rather than my work.”

“Dating? Is that what you and Lionel were doing today?”

“No - shut up, you know what I mean. Do you think Lionel can take them down? He pretty much controls most of the media, right, so maybe he can talk to the head of Twitter or whatever —“

“Too late. Once it’s on the internet, it’s everywhere.”

You sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“So… you were thinking about me?” Eli said after a few moments.

“…Maybe.”

“But you’ve got such exalted company, [Y/n]. Why would you be thinking of a humble little Nobel Laureate?”

You scoffed. “You are the very antithesis of humble, Eli. And you’re certainly not little.”

“But I am a Nobel Laureate.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned.”

“So… what were you thinking about? Missing my cock yet?”

“Actually, I thought of you because I saw Lionel flirt with someone. Realised I was jealous… made me think I kind of understand why you’re mad about me being here.”

There was a long pause.

“I was gonna ask you out,” Eli said.

“…What?”

“Last night. That’s why I was mad. I was gonna ask you for a real date. Spent an hour working up the courage to knock on your door, meanwhile you were in London fucking Lionel.”

You froze. Your world was spinning. Then, without even thinking, you said, “I woulda said yes.”

“You wouldn’t rather Lionel instead?” Eli scoffed.

“No. I dunno. I… I like both of you. You fuck around, and I know Lionel does too. Can’t I have it both ways? You for when I’m in the States, Lionel when I’m in the UK. Both of you when you’re both around. I keep thinking of taking both of you again.”

Eli let out a frustrated groan.

“Fuck, you’re such a greedy slut. I wish I was there to take you right now in front of all those stuck-up snobs. Lionel can join in only once I’m done with your tight cunt and it’s all loosened for him. Or maybe he could take your ass at the same time. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“God, Eli - I can’t be getting wet in the middle of this party —“

“You knew you’d be getting wet the moment you started thinking about me.”

“I’m always thinking about you at the worst of times… last week one of my students asked if I was friends with you and I had to resist saying I’d sucked your cock half an hour earlier. Not least because I’m pretty sure she’s one of yours. Leah Driver?”

“Oh, Leah… yeah, she’s one of mine. Gives terrible head, but her ass is divine.”

That awful twisting feeling rose up in your gut again, and you pushed it back down.

“In fact, since you’re off playing fancy with Lionel, maybe I’ll arrange a one-to-one with her…”

“Are you trying to make me jealous of a student when I have Lionel here ready to take me as soon as I open my legs? Try harder, sweetie.”

“Not there with you now, is he?”

“No, he’s catching up with his cousin.”

“Oh, Sinclair? Yeah, I’ve met him. Extremely annoying.”

“He seems alright to me.”

“His wife’s hot, though. The new one, not the old one.”

“Okay, Eli, you go fuck your students like the professional you are. I’ve got a party to enjoy.”

Meanwhile, back inside, Lionel and Sinclair had finished their business chat and conversation had turned to more interesting things.

“That woman you’re with seemed really lovely! Are you dating her?” Sinclair asked with excitement, as if his cousin’s love life was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Why, are you looking?”

Sinclair looked offended. “Of course not! I’m very happy with Betty, you know that. I wouldn’t dream of even looking at another woman.”

“Sinclair, relax, I was joking,” Lionel reassured him, knowing his cousin’s feelings about cheating. “No, we’re not dating. Simply fucking.”

“Well, Betty was looking on Twitter earlier - I don’t have it myself, I’m completely inept with technology - but somebody spotted you and [Y/n] at lunch earlier, so I thought maybe there was something more there. Especially as you brought her tonight.”

“She’s certainly… piqued my interest,” Lionel admitted. Sinclair’s eyes lit up, but Lionel quickly added, “But she’s clearly not interested in anything of the sort. I’m not the only man she’s seeing, for starters.”

“Then you need to win her over! Why don’t you bring her to Betty’s birthday party on Tuesday? I can be your wingman! I’ll tell her all the embarrassing stories from when we were kids and you used to show up to family events in your lion onesie, and if she’s still interested after that, you know she’s the one!”

“Don’t you dare, Sinclair,” Lionel said warningly. “If you ruin my chances with [Y/n], I will steal your wife.”

“So you do like her! Oh, this is great, Li! I’ll ask Betty to talk to her and see if she can find out if she likes you too. Ooh, this is so fun! I’ll go talk to Betty right now! She can be super sneaky when she wants to - lied to my face for months about not being in love with me —“

Sinclair was out the door before he’d even finished talking, and his sentence seemed to run straight into the next when he bounded up to Betty and started talking animatedly to her.

Lionel hesitated before returning to the party. He was one of the richest men in the world. He could have pretty much anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers - or a flash of his debit card. Why was he letting a woman get to him like this?

No, he wasn’t having it. Sharing you with Eli was one thing, but he would not doubt himself.

After your call with Eli, you made your way back inside, and glanced around, hoping for a familiar face. You saw Sinclair chatting animatedly to Betty, but Lionel was nowhere to be seen.

You began to make your way through the crowd towards the bar, carefully avoiding bumping into a drunk Bill Gates, when you felt a large hand close around your wrist and pull you back around.

You hardly had a moment to register that it was Lionel who had a grip on you when his lips were on yours, and his hand released your wrist from his grip only to hold your face firmly between his hands, as if worried you might break the kiss.

Somewhere in the distance, some rich people were wolf-whistling and cheering, but you paid them no mind. All that existed in that moment was you and Lionel, and the most breathtaking kiss you’d ever received.

It was all over Twitter within minutes.