#martin/gender neutral reader

[coffee-at-daybreak]

if only | martin septim x reader

a/n: i've got a fatal case of martin brainrot so here's another fic >:3 ty all sm for the love on my prev piece !! i truly appreciate it

"When I asked if there was any work to be done around here, this is not what I meant," you grumble, looking up from the document Jauffre just set down in front of you. You're seated at one of the tables in the great hall of Cloud Ruler Temple, which is nearly deserted save for the two of you. Everyone else seems to be caught up in their afternoon tasks.

"I'm afraid this is all there is right now," the senior Blade shoots back at you. He crosses his arms and tilts his head. "You also just returned from destroying a Gate. It would be wise to take it easy for some time."

You frown at him, but unfortunately, he's right. Just a day ago, you had limped back to base with a number of improperly healed injuries and sleepless nights. At least there was one less Gate of Oblivion to worry about.

"Well, I never claimed to be wise. Just bored," you say, and grin at the exasperated look Jauffre gives you.

"A trip to Bruma for some supplies should keep you busy enough. Again, it's all I have for now. Unless you want to train our newest recruits." He arches an eyebrow at you.

You grimace and shake your head. "Bruma it is, then." You read over the paper again. It's just a supply order for some food, weapons, and armor to be delivered to Cloud Ruler Temple - surely for those new recruits he just mentioned.

Jauffre nods. "Excellent. We would be most grateful. Just hand the paper to each of the business owners listed on there. I'll provide you with the gold to give them, and some for you as well."

Now that makes the job a little more agreeable. "Alright. I can start heading there soon," you say.

"Head where, if I may ask?" The new voice prompts you and Jauffre to both turn and see Martin approaching the table. The first thing you notice is that he looks awfully tired. His eyes appear duller than usual, and there are faint circles of darkness under them. Concern wraps its way around your chest, but your question is answered when you see he's holding that damned Mysterium Xarxes book. He'd been studying it before you left days ago, and it seems he still is.

"Good afternoon, your Highness," Jauffre greets him politely. "I was just discussing an errand with our friend here. How is your deciphering of the book coming?"

Martin shakes his head and sets the tome down on the table. The thump of it falling on the wood almost echoes through the hall.

"I'm afraid I haven't made much progress," he admits, his soft voice tinged with defeat. "I have been caught on the same part for a few days now. I am determined to keep working at it, of course, but it is... taxing."

You feel a jab of sympathy in your gut. He looks as exhausted as you feel. Whatever he's doing might be just as bad as facing Daedra in a fiery battlefield.

"You should withdraw from your studies for a while, then," Jauffre advises him. "Take some time to rest. You might return to it with a clearer head."

Martin nods slowly, looking a little more relieved at that suggestion. His gaze shifts from Jauffre over to you. "What is this errand you are being sent on?"

"I'm just dropping off some orders in Bruma." You cast him a small smile. "You should come with me. You need to get out of here for a bit."

Martin's eyes immediately brighten back up, and the sight makes your heartbeat stutter. Before he can even open his mouth to reply, though, Jauffre beats him to it.

"Absolutely not." The grandmaster shakes his head and levels you a sharp glare. "It is far too dangerous for him in such a busy city. There could be spies or assassins at any corner. He must stay here."

The familiar heat of frustration builds up within you. "Come on. I'll be there- I'll make sure he's safe. He can't stay here all the time. It'll drive him mad."

"If the Mysterium Xarxes doesn't do it first," Martin pipes in. He tosses a somewhat pleading glance at Jauffre.

The older man shakes his head again. "No. I'm sorry, Martin, but as the only living heir, we cannot put you at any risk. I can have another Blade accompany you for a walk outside, but you must not leave the Temple grounds."

The speed at which Martin masks his disappointment is impressive. He dips his head. "I understand. Thank you, Jauffre."

You aren't hiding your expression as well. You practically glare daggers at Jauffre, but he doesn't seem to notice - or care. He just hands you a pouch of coins.

"Right, then. Here are the funds for those orders. I'll see you when you get back."

You mutter your agreement as he turns and heads back out to the courtyard to return to his training. The second the doors shut behind him, you look over at Martin.

He looks right back at you, and you catch the slightest little glimmer in his eyes. One that you surely mimic in your own gaze.

"Jauffre is quite the guard," he says. "Very loyal to the rules."

You pick up the bag of coin with a grin. "Too bad we're not all like him."

And so with the help of a secret side passage through the fortress, the two of you sneak out unseen later that evening. It's nearly dusk when you finally reach Bruma. Martin gets a good laugh at watching you practically sprint for the places Jauffre listed, trying to reach them before they close. Thankfully, you manage to place all the orders just in time.

After that it’s easy for the two of you to blend in with the citizens. You pay a visit to the Chapel, admiring the clean and quiet atmosphere. You stroll around outside the grounds of Castle Bruma, then scurry away when the patrolling guards start to throw you second glances. You don’t get to wander around much more when snow begins to soak through your boots and your shared laughter is accompanied by chattering teeth. You end up rushing into Olaf’s Tap and Tack, a cozy inn at the center of town.

It’s surprisingly busy, filled with clusters of civilians and guards. There’s not even a table available, so you tug Martin along with you to the far edge of the front counter of the bar. You use some of that coin Jauffre gave you to buy a couple bottles of mead and a singular pastry to share.

An hour or so passes, but it’s hard to keep track of the time. You’re too caught up in swapping stories and feeling warmth ease farther into your body. Maybe it’s the cheap mead slipping into your belly, or hearing Martin’s laughter as you tell him about one of your embarrassing mishaps with the Imperial guards, but you begin to feel significantly lighter than when you were still at Cloud Ruler Temple.

You almost don’t notice that the crowd and noise of the inn has dwindled, and you and Martin are some of the last ones there aside from a drunk passed out on a table. When the innkeeper himself finally retires to his quarters, you take it as your sign to head out, leaving a few spare coins on the counter for him.

The snow outside is coming down softer than before. If the air is any colder, you don’t really feel it, your body still buzzing with warmth. It makes it easier for the two of you to wander around aimlessly again, conversing quietly about something, anything, to put off the dreaded trek back to the Temple.

“No, no. I’m pretty sure it was a sweetroll we were eating back there,” you say defensively as you head down one of the empty streets. You’re walking so close together that your shoulders brush occasionally - accidentally or intentionally, who knows.

“I’m afraid you’re wrong,” Martin protests in an amused tone. “It was a sweetcake."

“Same thing.”

“Not quite- there is a distinction.”

You can’t help the snort of laughter that rises up in you. You turn to look at him. “I didn’t know you were so knowledgeable about baked goods. Please, do enlighten me on-”

You shut up when you suddenly notice someone at the opposite end of the street, walking in your direction. It only takes a second to recognize the familiar outfit on them - Blades armor. A jolt of panic shocks your whole body, and before you can even think about it, you snatch Martin’s hand and quickly pull him with you off the street.

You dive into a small, small space between two houses, now blanketed by darkness instead of the torch-lit path of the street. You press your back into the wooden wall behind you, your heartbeat thudding in your ears.

“What? What is it?” Martin’s whisper is equal parts confused and worried. He mirrors you, leaning closer to his side of the little alley space right across you.

“One of the Blades is out there,” you say under your breath. “I think it’s Caroline.”

To your horror, Martin starts to tilt his head closer to the end of the alley, like he plans to take a peek. You didn’t realize you’re still holding his hand, which you squeeze and tug on.

“What are you doing?!” You hiss.

He pulls back into the safety of the shadows. You can hardly see him, but his light blue eyes are more visible than the rest of him. “She may be here searching for me. If they somehow found out I’m not there…”

“Then Jauffre will definitely have me kicked out- or killed.” You can’t help but cringe.

“I will tell him it was my idea. He won’t kill me, after all,” Martin offers.

You start to scoff and say something back, but the clinking of armor comes closer and you both freeze. You look out of the corner of your eye and watch with bated breath as the shadow of the Blade gets bigger. You half expect Martin to step out and reveal himself, but fortunately he stays put.

Caroline walks by , but thank the Divines she doesn’t look down the alley. Her head turns the other direction, her eyes sweeping over the rest of the city. You wait another few moments. Her footsteps fade and she heads for another street.

You let out a breath, though you still keep it as quiet as possible. Your body relaxes from the tense stance it was just in.

“You would think I saw one of those assassins Jauffre mentioned,” you mutter.

Martin breathes out a hushed chuckle. “With reflexes like yours, I would still be in good hands.”

You feel a light pressure on your hand. You realize it’s his thumb, making a subtle sweep on the back of your palm. Blood rushes up your neck and you instinctively let go. “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he assures you, but he sounds almost … disappointed. He turns to glance towards the street again. “I suppose that was a sign that we should be returning to Cloud Ruler Temple.”

Your heart sinks, but you nod. “I suppose.”

A moment passes, then another… and neither of you move.

In your urgency to stay hidden, you hadn’t noticed just how small this space is. Even with your backs pressed into the walls, you’re close enough to feel your knees brushing his. And now that your vision has adjusted to the darkness, you see him better too - the snowflakes still lingering in his hair and the reflection of the nearby torch lights in his eyes.

Eyes you are surprised to find are already on you when you dare to look up at him.

You take a deep breath. Even that little movement brings you just a tad closer. “Well, let’s not both rush at once,” you joke.

That earns you a smile from him, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s still a little pull in his brow as he studies you for a moment. “I’m not exactly eager to go back,” he admits.

You almost agree right away, but instead you ask him gently, “Why not?”

Martin takes a deep breath of his own, and when he exhales, you swear you can just barely feel his breath ghosting over your hair. “There is… so much expected of me back there. I am expected to lead the Blades, and decipher that awful book, and prepare to become the next emperor.”

His gaze lifts and meets your own, and your heart trips over itself.

“But when I am with you, like tonight, I feel very much at ease. It’s as though I am just another man. No expectations, no duties, no worries plaguing me- or us.” His eyebrows scrunch with a bit of concern as he looks at you. “I’m sure you know what it is like, to have so many responsibilities and people depending on you.”

You can only nod, not wanting to interrupt him. You do know what it’s like.

“But here,” he continues, “I can imagine I am not the next Emperor, and you are not the Hero of Kvatch. I can imagine we are just two normal civilians with no expectations or worries-” He cracks a small, somewhat sad smile. “-even if only for a night.”

You sit in silence for a moment as the weight of his words wraps around you. A number of emotions flit about in your head and chest, but above all else, there’s an undeniable warmth spreading within you.

“I imagine that, too,” you confess. Your hand itches to take his again, to actually focus on how his skin feels. “If only things were … simpler.”

He nods once. Another pause passes between you two.

“But they’re not.” You dare to look back up at him. “Maybe that’s why we should make the most of nights like this.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you rethink them, especially when you see a flicker of surprise in Martin’s eyes. Your heart begins to gallop and you start to think up a rushed apology.

“Maybe we should,” he says before you can do so. His face softens again, and you notice his gaze jumping to your hand now, like maybe he’s facing the same urge you had a moment ago.

So this time, you go for it. Your fingers brush over his loosely, still giving him the chance to retreat in case this is all a misunderstanding.

But then he takes your hand within his so easily that you just know it’s not. His fingers and palm wrap over your own, and his skin is softer than you imagined. You suddenly feel lighter, warmer, in every which way.

“We should head back soon before they send a real search party for you,” you reason, but you instinctively lean off the wall, just an inch closer to him.

“Soon, you say…” Martin’s other hand places itself at the small of your back, and your heart now feels like it’s just about dancing in your chest. He brings you an inch even closer. “How soon?” He murmurs. You’ve never been close enough to hear his voice that low and soft, and it sends a shiver of elation down your spine.

“Soon enough that Jauffre won’t pummel me on sight,” you reply, and Martin chuckles again. You want nothing more than to lean the rest of the way in, to feel the rumble of his chest against your own and to bury your hand in his hair and to kiss him like you’re not his Blade, and he’s not your Emperor - like you’re just normal civilians.

But you remember with a terrifying yet thrilling thought - maybe you can be. Even if only for a night.

“We’ll head back, but until we get there…” your voice falls to a whisper, afraid it will shake if it gets any louder. Your free hand finds purchase between his shoulder and neck, pausing to ask, “...can we still just be ‘normal civilians’?”

He gives you a hushed “yes” decorated with a smile, and you bury the last of your doubts as you pull him in.

It’s a very soft and timid kiss at first, a gentle press of your lips that only lasts a few seconds. You break apart for a moment, but there’s an unspoken charge still lingering between you, neither of you daring to move away from one another.

“Was that alri-” Martin starts to ask, but you don’t let him finish. You tug him back in and this time, there’s no reluctance from either of you.

This time the kiss is solid, relentless, maybe even a little clumsy, but you can’t possibly care about that. You only care about how tender his lips are when they take yours with enough firmness to make your belly flip in delight, and the distant taste of that cheap tavern mead and pastry sugar, and the warmth of your bodies finally coming this close. It feels so incredibly natural, so incredibly right, and Gods know you’ve been overdue for something to go right.

Your joined hands have let go of one another in search of a new anchor spot. Yours finds its way to his hair after all, fingers lost in the soft brown strands, and you relish in the shaky breath he exhales into the kiss. And when his hand circles your waist firmly, pulling you in until your body is flush against his, it’s your turn to be winded.

You are momentarily lost in one another until a guard’s distant voice grounds you. The kiss is reluctantly broken, but neither of you have the strength to go farther than that. For a moment you stay clinging to one another, foreheads touching and visible breaths mingling.

The guard’s voice comes a bit closer, and the familiar weight of reality presses down on you again. “That’s our cue,” you whisper. “I’d like to survive long enough to sneak you out again.”

“Very well.” Martin heaves a sigh that nearly breaks your heart. It springs back to life when he places one last chaste kiss on your forehead. “Thank you - I needed a night like this. I will cherish it until the next one.”

You smile, and it takes all your strength to not lean back in towards him. If only you could. Instead, you step away, and lead him out on a brisk walk out of the alley and into the city.

The guards don’t spare you more than a quick glance, and luckily you don’t spot Caroline again. You make it through the gate of Bruma and head back to Cloud Ruler Temple. But that entire trek in between, through the snowy and quiet night, you find yourselves hand in hand for another little while longer.

[g4yforethan]

super shy

pairing: chad meeks-martin x male!reader

summary: reader catches chad in the act and stays to help

warnings: cursing, top!chad, bottom!reader

a/n: ok this might seem a lil weird but i thought of this randomly in bed and had to start writing! my mind thoo. also they are 18 in this story not tryna do some underage shit that's nasty af.

you were tired and sweaty after gym class and decided to take a quick wash in the locker room. most of the guys in your class had already finished and went home since it was the last class of the day. you also liked it that way since you were a little shy around the guys as well. as the room seemed to get less quiet, you made your way into the showers. you heard the water running so you figured someone had left it on. you took off your clothes and stepped into the shower room. there, you saw him.it was chad. he was pleasuring himself. he moaned as he stroked his long cock with his hands. you were turned on by this as you have had a crush on him the entire school year and it seemed like the universe was working in your favor.

he paused at what he was doing and looked at you. your face was red and you were flustered. "i'm sorry i just got in here right now. i can leave." you said as you started to put your clothes back on. "no no stay here y/n. it's just the two of us. you wanna help me?" your eyes locked with his as he had a devious expression on his face. you walked over to where he was and began stroking his cock. his moans were loud and echoed throughout the room. "fuck. can you suck it?" you nodded your head and went down on your knees and shoved his dick inside your mouth. chad started to grab your hair to make you swallow every inch of his cock. you gagged on it and pulled out as he wanted more of you. “god i wanna fuck you so bad.” he says as he eyes you up and down and grabs ahold of your ass. “then fuck me right now.” you gave him a devious look and he was turned on by this.

he turned you around and smacked your ass before getting on his knees and opening your hole. he stated licking your hole and left hickies on your ass as you moaned out his name. he continued doing this until he couldn’t wait no more and made you get on all fours. there, he teased your hole with his dick and slowly went in at a soft and slow pace. you moaned as his huge cock dug deeper into you and the pulsing sensation of his dick drew you closer to him. “fuck baby you fuck me so well.” you moaned out as he smacked your ass and grabbed ahold of your waist. “yeah just like that baby boy. take this dick.”

he started going at a faster pace and soon enough began wrecking your hole as each stroke became stronger and faster. “ah fuck baby. i’m gonna cum.” “cum inside of me baby.” he came inside of you and filled your hole with his white thick fluid. afterwards, the two of you laid down to catch air. “wow so you’ve been in this class this whole year?” chad asked you. “ha yeah i just stand in the back during tag football. i’m pretty shy.” he came closer to you. “a pretty boy like you shouldn’t be shy at all.” he gave you another kiss on the lips and walked up and left the shower room. before you left, you saw him leave as he winked at you and motioned with his hands to call him. you were going to that night.

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Vivarium Martin Drabble: Changing his mind on trapping you

Ok so fun fact he is played by the actor who plays Anderson in BBC Sherlock, and he has that neurodiverse rizz so. If you don’t know him but would like to, I highly highly recommend you watch the movie. If you don’t mind spoilers and want to read this now go watch this clip of him!! He’s so cute like-

Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader, Height difference, Spoilers for the movie

Martin was good enough at being human, at least his understanding of their behavior was sufficient to lure couples like the Thompsons into their assigned housing units. It was important to coax them into a house viewing, it took practice to say the right words and often enough the humans had left beforehand, promising they would come back another time. He had smiled, drumming his fingers on the desk in anticipation of their visit but found himself confused when they didn’t return. Why didn’t they return?

The quicker they agreed to come along and view the house the better it was, he found. Because he didn’t spend much time with them, but it was apparently enough for them to start finding him ‚off putting‘. He heard them well enough when they went to look at the back yard, and that phrase was like an echo to him like the seemingly indistinguishable houses all around them. Off putting. Off was wrong, wasn’t it? ‚Your sock is off Martin‘. ‚Fuck off kiddo‘. ‚She ran off.‘

He doesn’t have a deep understanding of the things they said to him back then, they talk differently from his species. But they have the same facial structure and that makes him understand what it meant when they furrowed their brows at him. Or when they grimaced and shouted.

Martin tries to do his job right and he feels like he is getting better at it. Being a Salesman seems to work better than being perceived as a person, they accept it much more than citizen-him when he closes the shop. Every shop closes at some hour so they have to do that too.

Never before since he took over the office did only one person come in. They always came in two. Yet there you came in without a partner who looked with you.

You looked around a bit, he watched you from his seat for a moment longer than he usually did before approaching the clients. You were young and you didn’t wear a ring. Most who came here wore a ring in different variations, but always on the same finger. Your hands were empty though except for a shopping bag.

„Hello!“ He exclaimed after a few moments and stood up to walk around the desk. Your head turned to meet his eyes and you replied with a enthusiastic hello of your own. Your pupils widened, he recalled possible reasons for this in his head such as benign episodic unilateral mydriasis, migraines or attraction.

„Do you have a migraine?�� You slightly tilted your head to the side and raised your brows in wonder, „No, but the heat outside might honestly work up to one. Do you?“ You answered, to which he nodded thoughtfully. „No.“ He seamlessly transitioned to offer you his hand for a handshake, „Lovely to meet you!“ You laughed and took his hand, „Lovely to meet you too, I‘m Y/n.“ He noticed how easily his hand engulfed yours. You were a shorter one. At least much shorter than him.

You squinted your eyes when you laughed and slightly opened your lips. Unlike other animals this was the opposite of a threat in humans, smiling so broadly that the other person could see their teeth was a sign of real friendliness.

Martin introduced himself as well. He used the last name of the family who fostered him, Bailey. His Nametag didn’t say so, but he liked to introduce himself as such regardless.

„This neighborhood is really something special, we already sold most of the houses to some lovely couples.“ He recited. „We are hoping to build a strong diverse community.“

You approached one of the miniature houses, you didn’t have to bend down as much to look into them. There was something hard to read in the way you looked at it. It was one emotion distilled clearly into this moment, one that he had seen before, but blurred by other things. This thing his parents had in their eyes when they said they wanted to go home. But you did not look sad or angry. Just that.. third thing, that he couldn’t name.

He came to stand next to you and eyed the miniature. „I grew up in a home like this.“ He went to houses like the one he was fostered a lot but it was not his. It started to drizzle outside, the humid air tearing from the rain. He didn’t know why he told you that. You looked up to him again. „You grew up in a house from this company?“ Well, that was technically correct. What you didn’t know was that it was this exact setup too in front of you, because nothing ever really differed from the design. „Yes.“ You hummed and looked at the miniature again. „Was it nice?“ Was it nice? He wanted to repeat but managed to hold it back. When he was in the presence of humans it was hard not to do it.

„I don’t know.“ He said truthfully, for once, because neither did he know what would be appropriate to answer to specifics about his personal experience nor did he even really know what he felt about it to begin with. When he took over this office he looked up human data on the word as well, the variety of definitions were confusing but nonetheless enlightening. Because Hotels were also supposed to make you feel ‚at home‘ even though you didn’t permanently lived there. Apparently it was about being welcomed and being around like minded people. He did not have that experience there, so did Home still qualify for it?

„I understand. It’s not as easy as perfect or awful, a home is always kinda both.“ You said and nodded at him. Martin blinked. He didn’t even have to scramble for words to explain it any better, you seemingly understood what he meant just like that.

His species mimicked their words and behavior, but expressions were something that he genuinely seemed to share with them in a way. It was clumsy and sometimes less attuned, but it overlapped to an extent were it wasn’t just mimicry. So he felt a smile further tug at his salesperson-friendly-welcoming-human-attitude, something from inside, when you send him an understanding smile.

Your eyes caught sight of the rain, and turned slightly to look outside. It was really starting to pour now. „Oh finally, look how lovely.“ You exhaled with relief. „The rain is lovely?“ He asked, because when someone came in while it rained they would usually very verbally complain about it. They didn’t like to get wet except for cleaning.

„Yes! It makes everything much cozier, and it smells so flowery in the spring.“ You explained. „I used to work in a small shop like this too, not real estate, but it was always nice when we had a rainy day. It gives you more privacy, you can make yourself a coffee and just watch people walk past.“ He watched you intently as you talked about it, it seemed to be something that makes you happy. „You used to work in a small shop like this too.“ He repeated, „We have that in common.“ He noticed, because truly everything else about him wasn’t alike anyone, it was just copied off everyone- except this thing right here. „That’s true.“ You said, and you didn’t even seem weirded out by the way he recited your words.

Martin found it interesting that you also watched people go by. He knew why he did it, but he didn’t know why actual humans wanted to observe each other. Yet there you were, also observing him back when you looked back up at him. „What do you like to do on the job?“ You wanted to know, and it felt like you were more on a common place now. Because you weren’t asking the representative of this company in front of you, you asked Martin the Person who was also in sales like you.

He genuinely needed to think about that. „I like learning new things about people.“ New phrases, new gestures, it was exciting. He especially appreciated this thing he saw the other day, where two people walked and they unnecessarily entangled their arms with each other. Why did they do it if it meant that they could only use one arm now? It was funny. „Thats true, coming by so many different customers every day is really interesting!“

He looked outside as well now, hearing the rain drum against the glass. The clouds darkened the sky so much that the contrast to the light inside became stronger. It never rained where he grew up, there was no weather at all. Seeing Humans enjoy different kinds of weather was unknown to him. „We could drive to Yonder right now if you’d like! It’s only half an hour drive away.” He offered now, eyeing you from the side. “Do you have a car?” You shook your head, “I don’t have a car, would you mind if I come along in yours?” “Certainly, let me get my keys.” He went to the back for a moment and you took out a small umbrella from your bag. When he came back he really only got his keys, no bag, no jacket or umbrella of his own. When you both stepped outside you unfolded the umbrella while he locked the door, turning a sign that said that he’d be right back.

Then Martin found himself in yet another unexpected moment, because you shuffled close to him and held the umbrella over both of your heads. He blinked down at you, you were ducking your head towards him so you wouldn’t get hit by the rain. The umbrella was quite small and probably only meant to fit one person, but you tried to make it fit anyway. You were trying to protect him from the rain too? “Ok, lead the way.” You said, and smiled up at him.

Martin didn’t say anything as he was still surprised by this gesture, and first he walked way too fast, but as you paced up as well he understood that he needed to be patient and match your smaller steps. He curiously looked at you from the corner of his eye, your arms were touching. When you stood so close it was even more obvious that you were shorter than him, you even struggled to extend your arm to make sure you didn’t accidentally hit his head. And then you.. did that thing, your hand came up to gently loop itself under his arm, holding onto him. “May I?” You asked, making sure he was comfortable with you getting a bit closer in the moment. It was.. restricting, but somehow comfortable? Like the compression of a hug but on a smaller scale.

He smiled slightly and nodded yes, eyes flickering to your hand on his lower arm for a moment. He felt your warmth through the fabric of his dress shirt, it was strong against the cold from the rain. “May I?” He repeated now, offering to the take the umbrella from you and you nodded with a smile. Martin took the handle from you, hands slightly brushing against each other as he did so.

You walked like that together for a while until you reached the car. He opened the door for you to get in before going around, quickly figuring out how to close this thing before getting into the driver’s seat next to you. When he looked over you were smiling, looking out of the front window at the rain. „We should listen to some music.“ You said, „Let’s turn on the radio!“

He obliged, this one took more calibrating, but eventually some tunes came out as the engine came to life and he exited the parking spot. It was a soft melody, and you seemed to recognize it because you started to sing along the words. Martin hummed along, trying to mimic the melody as well, because he didn’t know how to sing. You drove through the street and he couldn’t help but enjoy the way you were both mimicking the music. And you smiled widely and glanced at him while doing it, squinting your eyes once more in this disarming way.

He never thought he could do these things with a human.

You kept on listening to music for a while, traffic was holding you up quite a bit. You yawned a bit and snuggled yourself further into your coat, but to no effect. The cold from outside was still crawling into the car the longer the traffic jam continued. You closed your eyes and laid your head back. „I hope I‘ll like it there. I hope there are people I can sing in cars with too.“ You said, just like it was a sidenote, but it made Martin look at your tired form. He didn’t really know how this made him feel. But the fact that there was something he felt about it to begin with was making him insecure in a way. You yawned again without opening your eyes, „When we drive back you gotta show me the music you like too.“

He gripped the steering wheel harder. You were so casually.. everything that he never had before. Humans were cautious not to show that they didn’t care, he was mostly being tolerated to some extent by every one of them up to now. He was only aware of a lacking because he saw them interact with one another, how much more authenticity there was to their relationships. How did everything you said to him feel so fully different from the way they interacted with him before?

Martin didn’t do anything different, no matter how hard he tried to discern the reason why someone would actually like him now this time. He had only told you something about him, the fact that he grew up in a house like that, because you were also candid towards him. You evoked him to differ from the script, but was it all that more significant than what he did before?

He didn’t say anything for a while and neither did you, and at some point he found that you had fallen asleep. Martin glanced over at you and blinked, his eyes then drifted to the backseat. If he remembered correctly.. and he most certainly did then- he pulled a blanket out of the stuff that was crammed in the back from the previous owners of this car. When he stopped at a red light he carefully placed it over you. It would help with the cold. During sleeping periods the body temperature of humans became even lower and you already seemed to be shivering before.

He remembered how his foster parents tucked him in even though it wasn’t cold there. It was neither particularly warm or cold, there was no weather to shelter from but they insisted to do that with him and themselves as well. It was one of the many rituals they participated in even though there was no outlying reason for it. So he did this to you as well, and he was careful to put the fluffy fabric over your shoulder so it wouldn’t fall. You let put a small sigh but did not awake, and his eyes flickered over your face. You looked.. nice. You looked as nice as you were as a person.

Martin turned towards the steering wheel again and drove further, but when he saw the sign for Yonder he stopped the car. He did not enter the neighborhood.

He didn’t want you too live and die in there, never to be seen again. He didn’t want to drive someone else to the house that you had died in. He wanted to drive back with you now and show you the music he liked like you said.

And he let you go, would he be able to see you again at all?

He heard shuffling from the blanket and looked to the side, seeing how you sleepily opened your eyes again. When you caught sight of him you smiled, even though there was no social prompt for you to do so. You just did. „I fell asleep goodness..“ you mumbled and straightened yourself again. „Are we there?“

Martin looked at you, his eyebrow twitched and he breathed in before closing his mouth for another moment. „Yes. But. I was called just now which is why I stopped the car. And the agency informed me that another real estate agent has just sold the house that I was going to show you. And unfortunately the other ones are already reserved.“

You slightly weighed your head to the side, „Oh.“ you slightly bit your lip, disappointed. „Well, I was too slow then I guess. But.. well this was still fun enough don’t you think?“ He raised his brows, you chuckled. „Singing along to music with someone I just met and taking a nap in a real estate’s company’s car isn’t an ordinary experience, I like it.“ You explained, amused despite the rejection of a viewing.

Martin couldn’t help but smile himself too. The way you were, how you acted and spoke and were so forward and positive towards the things around you was something he didn’t want to disappear and be covered up by the trap that was this neighborhood. It was something he wanted to be around more, not just observing but partaking in as a person. Because you saw him as such.

The rain drummed loudly on the windshield. He swallowed as there were no specifics for him on what he was trying to say now. „Would you like to drink coffee and watch people together when we come back?“

Your smile grew wider. „Yes! I‘d love to.“

I hope you liked it! Idk if this will get any notes or comments because thats one if the mist niche characters I‘ve ever written for but I still really wanted to write this. I‘m so endeared with this guy

[verstappensrealwife]

╰┈➤ ❝ Lance Stroll Masterlist ❞

I write for any driver on the grid ( incl. retired drivers ) ╰─▸ With retired drivers, please specify whether the fic will be set before or after their retirement ♡ Feel free to send in a request - They can be anonymous! ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

*** indicates NSFW content:

Beyond Friendships Boundaries *** ʚɞ in which... reader catches her childhood best friend in a... compromising position.

click here to read

Race to Remember *** ʚɞ in which... reader rewards lance after he wins a grand prix.

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⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ���

[cupioromantic-simp]

Martin x spiral avatar

“Well it’s like… it’s called Michael but that’s not what that is it’s who he might have used to been but it’s also a real name that is called and when it’s called they’ve’d answer

You know? Like

it’s not it’s name because it is it’s ‘what do they call you’ because it used to be what they’ve’d whold have bean if it was he and he is Michael … does that make sense?”

Martin stands at the counter pouring tea the cup has been long since filled boiling water spills over as he stairs in to nothing not noticing the heater scorching his hand

“Good lord Martin!” you stand and rush over taking the cup and kettle out of his hands “are you okay?!”

The skin on his hand is already starting to blister and bleed

“P-pardon? What- ow oh my god! What’s happened?!”

“That’s not the problem these look like serious burns martin, I’ll drive you to the hospital”

“I- yeah that- that’s a good idea…”

“We should tell Jon before we leave, he’ll freak if we leave without telling him,” you Gide him out of the staff room “you can take a seat and wait for me if you need?”

“I’ll- yeah”

…

Knock knock

“Heyyyyy Jon” you close the door behind you “me and Martin might need the day or so off”

He sighs loudly and you can hear the faint whirring of a tape recorder

“I told you you can’t just take days of to go on dates with martin this is the second time this week and I-“

“No it’s not that, I need to drive Martin to the hospital”

“Why what’s happened? Is it those damed worms again! I said to be careful!” He sighs and mumbles something about how incompetent everyone is

“No, um it’s not that he um- burnt himself making tea spilled hot water on his hand, I was explaining Michael to him and guess he-“

“What?” Jon turns and looks at you

“I need to take him to the emergency room it’s pritty bad and-“

“No no I herd that I don’t care. You were explaining Michael? H-how”

“Well it’s really simple actually if you remember what he looks like it’s not it but it’s them because he is it but it’s not he and vice versa he’s full of nothing and so he’s empty because it’s everything which means they’re are something and they’ve are Michael Because that’s what he’s always been so that’s what it’s not choosing to be, it’s like vanilla flavouring a drop is vanilla and a bottle is vanilla the difference is the concentration even though it’s technically the same concentration the difference is just the amount it’s exactly the same but also extremely different, you understand right?”

He looks just like Martin did a few minutes ago completely frozen in place look around with his eyes trying to calculate something in his head

“I can’t deal with explaining things to you I need to get Martin to the hospital” you walk across the room to the door “huh? I didn’t know where ales to paint our office doors? You made a good choice on the colour though Jon, the yellow really brightens up the room”

Jon perks up “Wait do-!”

You close the door in front of you and turn forward to move to his left you run walk move wander continue stumbling for days which takes seconds to get confudelling to be interested

“This isn’t sensefull” you go in the top of the stairs and turn to you forward and walk out of a painting and are met with a person With curling eyes and panicked hair “oh hello what might you be?”

She turns forward and cocks her head at you “are you the.. thing.. that.. lives? Here”

“Hmm? Do I live or am I just an existence, I think I’m a person I still have existing so I’d say no… so yes I do-not live but I might do it here” your voice comes out crisp and warm like burnt tinfoil you have spoken in a long time so it’s rattling to hear a video and listen to the clear crystallized frames of your voice producing those pictures of words

“Is this it? What door do I take to get out” she shoves a map into you

“Shit! My map! God damn it!” She starts to scratch at your senter trying to grab you out of the map you hold her away from it with your hand

“That’s not vary nice, if you wanted to leave you could have just ask”

“Bloody hell? Fine? How do I leave?” She pops out of nowhere and in to somewhere away

“See all you had to do was ask” you whisper in to her ear

You stand up to the side you head just barely touching the floor no it’s not quite the floor it’s the inside of what what’s you before you whet it

“Ah.. that’s it I’m not Michael.. what am I?.. we should go find out” you walk out of the in and in to the out of the door in the middle of the archives

“Um.. h-hello is someone there?” A voice calls out of a door to and office with the label ‘head archivist’

“If it’s you me.Lukas I-I already told you my answer..”

you close the door and walk out

The man inside stars at you slowly and calls a name

“Is that mine?” You ask

“I-is w-what yours?” He looks around nervously and alert

“My… ‘name’… is that it? Do I own a part of that name, is sounds like a very stupid name,” you repeat the name over and over once

“M-mayby” he seems to be breathing heavily tears stabbing his eyes

You move a finger to his eye he is frozen in fear and you slowly smooth the tear out of his eye with your thumb

“Martin… you should’ve not done that… your much to pretty to be leaking from your eyes…” you stand up straight “hmm strange… how do we might know your name” you laugh like a whiny kicked puppy with four sharp inhales and a soft sigh at the end “how fun..”

White Smokey tendrils form in the corners of the small office as ‘Martin’ stares blankly at you

He sits down in his chair and blows a tendril of smoke of his tea

“Gosh! That’s a nasty burn there! How’d you get it?” He bites his lip and shakes trying to hold back tears but fails miserably as he grips his mug in his hands tendrils of smoke reforming on his tea as more smoke fills the room “what’s wrong Martin? You look upset?”

He shakes in place “leave.”

“Pardon?-“

“LEAVE!” His cup shatters in his hand spilling hot tea onto his hand “fuck!” He runs his hand over his face and chokes back a sob

“Are you alright? That looks like it might’ve been painful if it was hot did you do that on purpose Because if you did it on purpose you shouldn’t have done it at all beca-“

“Stop… just leave… please..”

“Hmm.. alright i suppose,” you walk through the wall in to your door “Good bye, have fun without me I hope”

(I fucking live for writing spiral content!)

[reptisoil]

i got an ask for a wk fic but deleted it accidentally, i will be making it bc i remember the request but i just don't have the ask it self, so sorry anon!

[deniable-masterpiece]

the note | wally clark x gn!reader

a/n — this was gonna be more smutty but I didn't feel like it should go down that path, so a gender neutral wally fic it is! Christmas themed because Christmas is year-round, and also I love that little Christmas scene in the new episode

warnings — started out as smut but abandoned the smut part, so there's a few comments about hot and sexy you are. is cringe a warning? not proofread

words — 2.1k (surprisingly short for me omg)

summary — Wally writes you a note in a Christmas card about how he really feels.

~~~

“The things I dream about doing to you…”

Wally sighed, placing the Christmas card down on his desk after penciling those words into the top left corner of its inner blank space. His leg bounced, and he looked off to his left to stare out the window, a mix of snow and green covering the expanse of the field outside. Anything to clear his head and focus, but maybe he shouldn’t have taken a seat in a class that you were currently in, painfully unaware of his existence. Telling you would be so much easier. Showing you, even. He wished a long time ago that he could affect the living world; he wished that he could tell someone who he didn’t already overly annoy that he exists and that he’s not gone. He wished for a lot of things, but he was waiting for a miracle on this one.

Mr. Martin suggested this, a way to cope with the uncontrollable: write a note inside of a Christmas card to someone at the school and send it to them. He said it would be the key to accepting that the only lifeline—from the fun they could have to the ways they could express their feelings of grief about their own feelings to even Wally’s favorite pastime, exercising—could only exist within the walls of this school. Wally was the first to accept this challenge, but that was only because he could think easily of writing it about one of the many living people he found hot. The only thing is that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

He used to be so blunt—and still was—but there used to only be one person that could push him to do the opposite of what he wanted. And he was doing this so that he wouldn’t have to think about her, and yet, this Christmas card was taunting him all the regardless of its stupidly thin presence. 

Why did he even bother writing words down when they would just disappear? When the generically empty cards they teachers swiped these off of returned back to one of the drawers in their desk? How long could he keep pretending that this was more than a glorified way of lessening Mr. Martin’s workload?

He picked it up again and started writing, letting his mind flow.

“The things I dream about doing to you, well, if I could dream. If I could dream, it would be all about you, obviously. You would hear me talking in my sleep like that stupid song by The Romantics, and I’d have the biggest boner because you’re so damn sexy.”

Wally paused, thinking about whether or not he should hold himself back. The card wanted that, to keep its crisp, pure inner-white pages free from the filth he scribbled over it. But he was supposed to be raw, real, and he wanted you in a way that could only best be summed up by coming straight from his mind. No filter. 

He continued writing, 

“I think I’m taking this too fast. Obviously, I would say ‘hi’ to you and I would tell you my name instead of keeping it from you until the end of this. I think I’m already saying obviously too much. Obviously, Wally. Right. Let’s get to the totally rad intro where I introduce myself and break your heart when I tell you that I’m a ghost. Hi, I’m Wally Clark. And I’m haunting the halls of this place like Poltergeist but not really because I’m only freaky like that movie in the parts where it matters. The ghost part is true, and the not seeing me part. Could they see the ghosts in Poltergeist? I don’t actually remember. If you could write me back, I’d love to know what you think about it. Don’t tell me everything, though. I don’t want to think about that weird man-eating tree. It was grody. Maybe you’ll like it. I barfed out halfway through.”

Wally cursed at himself for rambling so much, but if you could read this letter, he would want you to know how the whole ghost-thing worked.

“If you could watch it, all you do is have to speak out loud and I would hear you. It sounds creepy, but I would know at least. And hey! I’m telling you what I would do if I dream about you, and now I’m realizing how much space I wasted writing about some dumb movie you’ll never see. We could watch it together? Date night—you and me? Eight p.m., in the gym?”

This wasn’t like passing notes in the 80s, because you would never feel the card between your fingers. You would never crease it with your hands while you hold on tight to it as you cling to every word—Wally hoped you would do that when he got to the stuff that he felt would rock your world, anyway. 

“I guess I should get into it. We do movie nights here, and I always choose the best ones to watch, and I save the couch for us. I think about putting my letterman over you while we watch the movie so you’re sandwiched by me from the back and the front when I pull you onto me, and you lay on me, and sometimes I wish you could take things from the ghost world like we can from your world. Just so you can have it. I think about you fitting into every spot at this school. I think about doing it in every spot of this school. Every time you wear a new outfit, it makes me go feral. When you wear something I’ve seen, I still love it. You’re the hottest when you wear those clothes that reveal skin all over your body, and you play dumb to the teacher that dresses you because you wanted to feel hot that day. You’re hot. You’ve got my desired approval. I think about walking next to you in the hall—I do, you just can’t see it—and holding your hand as you have your five minutes of fame. Strut down the hall, make everyone’s head turn. You deserve to feel that way, and you deserve the punishment I’d give you for being such a skank. For letting everyone see your rocking bod.”

Wally took a beat to breathe and look over at you. You were wearing clothes that made heat travel to his pants—if blood could flow down to there. He envied the way you looked to the teacher and gave him those eyes he wished you were giving him. The eyes you’re currently giving a forty-year-old balding has-been who doesn’t know the privilege he has to see you every day in his class to just ask him to use the bathroom. He watched your backside as he permitted you to use the restroom, and you stood up and left the room. Thank god, Wally would have left the room to slip this card in your locked locker with a pair of wet sweatpants, or left his desk a mess of sticky white. He returned to the card and noticed that the underside of his hand was smeared with grey lead. The whole card had smudges on his already messy writing, but he continued on,

“Okay, fuck. You’re really going to make me say it? I want you, and I can’t have you, and I hate this power you have over me. Not even my own death holds that much weight, and it’s the thing keeping me from you…”

Wally finished off the letter with a few more blunt thoughts. Anything and everything heedless and stupid was carefully spelled out with the last bit of lead in his pencil. He would get up to sharpen it, but the fear of losing these words until he was ready to let him go took ahold of him. These were words he needed to say, even if you could never read them.

He concluded his thoughts with an aggressive signature at the bottom. He wanted to shut the card and imagine like the words had already reset, melted away from the paper like a bad storm had turned the thick stock into indiscernible mush. His heart was on this paper in a string of words that would only ever make sense to him, but Mr. Martin insisted on the next step he was about to take.

Wally left the room with a couple of minutes to spare, yelling a dramatic Goodbye! to you on the way out. He knew the schedule of the bells so well that he didn’t even need to think about it when he left. He had one destination in mind, and the bell had rung by the time he got there. On the first floor of the school, down the hall with all the English classes, was your locker, right near your homeroom. The lockers had a few slats near the top of each of them, and the card was the perfect width to fit and slide right through. Wally held it in his hands for a second, creasing it with his fingers and thinking of all the things that could happen if you just got to see it. Communication, even this bizarre, would be perfect for him. A place to overshare his actual feelings and not the constantly happy, empty-headed jock he always pretended to be. He had real feelings, and only a fraction of them were captured with stationary. It was more than something for you to read; it was the first step on processing his own feelings, to distract himself from thinking of missing his family’s holiday traditions. You helped him with that, unknowingly. And this was something to pay you back with, for being the unwanted object of his attraction.

Wally lifted the card to the horizontal grooves in the locker, pushing it inside. He heard it scrape against the metal and land on the stuff in your locker. There wasn’t much else he could do besides walk away. The note and all of his raw emotion were gone. Knowing the path you usually took, he expected that you would open your locker and find nothing. So, with the new weight off his chest, Wally moved through the hall, filling with students moving to their next class to throw hoops in the gym or convince the other ghosts to make holiday treats with him.

He went down towards the opposite end of the hall from where you would be coming in, putting an unknown distance between you and him as you walked to your locker. Standing exactly where he had been, you started twisting the lock embedded in the blue metal door to get it open. When you did, a Christmas card fell out and landed on the shiny linoleum.

You reached for it, picking it up and opening the card. The words were a bit faded and smudged, looking too messy to be some joke, so you assumed it was written with pure intentions. It looked to fill up the whole card, the letter written inside even going around the “Happy Holidays” wish written in red and green lettering on the right side of the card. Though, you started to question the legitimacy of it as you read further into it. The stuff about your appearance, and how they admired you from afar made you feel seen in a way that other guys at school were too dumb to see express on their faces or with their words. But ghosts? That part had you questioning what was actually real about this letter, and who was using a dead kid as a sick punchline to this joke of a letter. But the end of it what really got you, it being somehow both too cheesy to take seriously but also too specific to not be straight from the heart.

“It’s so hard to watch someone that you can only have in your fantasy. Every day I think about you and do things that would get me in so much trouble if anyone could see it. I think about you in ways that tell me I really love adore you.” The sentence originally used the word ‘love,’ but it had been scribbled out to become almost unreadable and replaced with the word ‘adore.’

Your eyes scanned over the final few sentences, which really stuck out to you. Unbeknownst to you, it was the first time Wally was at a loss for words. He could always offer support, even if he was bad at it. But this was the hardest thing he found himself trying to say.

“I don’t usually notice the living. They’re boring and lame, but you’re different. I dream about us doing the—“ The sentence ended there and picked up again at the start of a new one. “Well, I can’t describe it. The best way to put it would be doing the most. Everything. Anything. My world tilted off its axis, and it was already upside down. I love you.”

At the bottom of the note, it was signed,

“Worlds apart, 

Wally Clark

Class of ’84”

[dolicekiss]

Hiiiii I love ur writing!!! If it's too much of a bother, I totally wouldn't mind if you don't write this😭😭 I understand that you might be busy with other things, butttt could you write about Martin from Another Round?? Him as reader's teacher (in like uni or something one where reader is legal) and like a punishment sort of thing that's happens to the reader while he's trying to teach them something after school bc they've been falling behind in their grades, and he eventually makes a deal that if they were to do a little "favor" they'd get an A?? Idk I just really like Martin😭😭 If possible, could you make the reader fem?? If not, gender neutral would be greatly appreciated, thank you!!!

- 🫧anon

♡: sorry this was so late, i just finished it and requests r piling up :[ hope u like it anon!

Good Grades

PAIRING: Martin X fem!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+, mdni), age gap (obviously), unprotected sex, perverted martin, oral (male receiving), degrading, humiliation, hair pulling, biting, filthy martin, power play.

SYNOPSIS: You've always struggled with your history subject, more so when it came down to remembering which historic event took in what year — the numbers screwing you up. It wasn't a surprise when you were called in by your teacher to scold you about your downgrading grades but you didn't know there was a much easier to fix them right up.

You were in a state of panic.

When your teacher had asked you to stay behind, you knew damn well what it was for.

History wasn't one of your strongest suits, especially remembering the numbers. You tried your best to embed your mind with it but you failed at the end.

Your nails scratched the skin around them in anticipation, stomach twisting in nervousness and anxiety knocking at the doors of your brain to allow it in.

You only had to wait for the bell to ring and once it rang, all the students left. Rushing to catch their breaks and some letting out sighs of relief to finally be freed of this soul sucking boring subject.

You were alone with him.

Martin’s gaze captured you as he picked up the papers he'd graded, setting them aside after picking out one.

It had to be yours.

He walked over to you, dragging a chair and sitting down on it in front of you. You could feel your pulse throbbing in your neck, heart hammering rapidly in your ribcage. Your forehead had perspired and you let out a breath.

“What is this, miss?” He asked, holding your paper out for you.

Immediately when you saw the grade of it, you felt like passing out. Martin eyed you as you averted your gaze from him and the piece of paper, looking around.

You had no courage to face your failure.

“I'm asking you something.”

You licked your lips. “A paper.”

Martin leaned back into the chair, thighs spreading open. He sighed. “I know it's a paper and it is your paper, which you almost failed.”

You flinched at his tedious tone, not enjoying how he spoke to you. Truth was, Martin had kept an eye on you for so long. Unbeknownst to you, he always tried to focus more on you and make you learn.

But you didn't want to.

Head anywhere but here, in his class.

“This isn't the first time. If you keep falling, I'll have to kick you out of the class.” It was a threat and your eyes widened immediately, shaking your head.

You leaned forward, the unbuttoned shirt revealing your chest which Martin captured a glance of. His cock stirring in his pants at how your tits pressed together — forming the perfect view for him. “Please, no. You can't do that. Just give me a chance, I'll do anything to fix my grades.”

Martin raised a brow.

Anything you said.

“I'm sorry but there is nothing I can do. I've had enough of this. You never pay attention and you're always chatting with other students.”

You shook your head. “Sir please, I will focus more. I will pay attention.”

Martin eyed you.

You seemed so desperate. He could see the raw desperation in your gaze and something inside him snapped, seeing how your pupils had blown out. He swallowed tightly and after debating with his own mind, he finally came to a conclusion.

He had power over you.

Why not abuse it?

“Get up and lock the door.”

You blinked at his abrupt command but nodded nonetheless, rising up from your seat to lock the door. Once you had snapped the little lock in place, you turned around to look at your teacher.

“Come here." And you obliged again.

Sauntering towards him, your pale skirt flowing by your side when you moved towards him. Nervousness had crawled all the way up to your throat and you licked your lips, in an attempt to wet the chapped skin.

You stood in front of him.

“There's something we can do to fix your grades.” He spoke, voice now a few octaves lower. Your fingers engulfed the material of your skirt as you raised a brow.

Martin reached for your hand, taking it into his. His brown eyes drowning in yours and his lips holding a sweet smile as if he wasn't about to make an immoral offer. “How about you be a good girl for your teacher and suck his cock?”

Your eyes widened in horror.

Pulling your hand out of his grasp, you retreated and stared at him. You'd never thought about your teacher in that sense. Yes, he was very attractive and you had a thing for older men but this was completely unethical and unprofessional.

You inhaled sharply.

Confusion clouded your judgment. You didn't know what to do. The proposal wasn't as bad as your mind was making it appear. Just give him head, get your grades up and work harder next time.

That easy, yeah?

Your knees dipped in front of Martin’s spread thighs and his smile widened. A tent already visible in his crotch. He was so excited, as he would always wonder how your glossy pink lips would feel wrapped around his cock — your tight little throat fighting to make space for his length.

You blinked, profusely as you reached for the zipper of his pants. He noticed the tremor in your hands and smiled softly, loving how innocent you appeared. Your hand managed to unzip his pants and pull out his cock but the moment your fingers caressed his hardened length, Martin hissed.

Your mere touch felt like embers on his skin.

Your eyes widened upon witnessing his gaze, the sheer length and girth of it leaving you completely bemused. How was that even supposed to fit in your mouth? You wondered if you could grow used to his size.

“What you waiting for, pretty girl?”

You looked at him with your pretty eyes as you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his tip. It leaked with precum and the salty taste glossed your lips. You ran your tongue over his pink cockhead and then wrapped your lips around him while your hand began to stroke him from his base — upto his length.

Martin slumped into his chair leisurely as his palm opened and rested over your head, forcing you to take him further. His lips fell open as he shuddered, enjoying the warmth your mouth produced around him.

The more you took him into your mouth, the harder it became for you to breathe properly.

You tried to inhale oxygen through your nose, your hands both resting on his parted knees. Martin’s hand pushed you further down on his cock and you fluttered your eyes shut, feeling his cock glide over your tongue and make way into your throat.

“Fuck, such a tight little mouth you've got, baby.” Martin groaned and as you peeled open your lids, you saw a sight before you which made your cunt throb.

A few straight strands had fallen over Martin’s forehead, his lips parted as his chest heaved up and down. Chiseled cheek bones reflexing everytime he let a gasp slip.

You took him deeper, feeling his cock head slip into your throat and you whined, sending vibrations and tremors down his cock into his groin. His cock throbbed and twitched like crazy and you could feel every little movement inside your tight cavern.

Your windpipe felt like it was being crushed and you pulled back from his cock, to take him deeper again.

“You're pretty good at this.” Martin groaned, staring down at you with hazy eyes. “How many cocks have you sucked, hm?”

You shook your head, telling him that this was your first time. Martin thrusted his hips upwards, driving his cock deeper into your throat. He managed to catch a glimpse of his dick print in your throat and lost his restraint.

Callous hands grabbing your head, holding it in place as he began to fuck his cock into your throat. Thrusts harsh and vigorous, your heart galloped in your ribcage. Your eyes fell shut and Martin’s fingers engulfed your hair.

“Look at me. Show me those pretty eyes, baby.” You obliged, fluttering them open. Your lashes coated the apple of your cheeks and tears emerged from your tear glands — droplets sliding down. Martin discarded the chair as he stood up, using his full strength to chase his orgasm.

You sniffled, gagging over his cock. A white ring of spit accumulating around his length from all the choking. Your mouth was covered in drool as well as chin, streams of precum mixed with saliva going down.

Martin’s balls throbbed and his pace fastened, fucking your throat like it was a cunt. You felt a stinging sensation spread in your knees from how long you'd been kneeling on the floor. His stomach was taut and his thrusts grew slightly slow — hinting at his upcoming arousal.

Loud groans and gagging sounds filled the whole of classroom. “Fucking whore. On her knees just to g-get good grades. How desperate can you be.”

Martin was a mess. His forehead was sweaty and then after a harsh thrust in your tight throat, he finally released inside your cum. Though that didn't last long as he pulled out halfway, shooting ropes of cum all over your face. You closed your eyes as the warm liquid stained your face wet.

You breathed like you'd ran a fucking marathon. Shallow breaths being inhaled while Martin stared at you, admiring how his climax covered your cheek. You reached to swipe it off your face, sticking your fingers into your mouth to suck them clean.

“You look fucking pretty like this.” He praised, running his hand over your messy hair.

Your cheeks warmed up. “I-Is that enough? Will you fix my grades now, sir?”

He tilted his head, contemplating you. Lost in complete dilemma before he came to a conclusion. Martin didn't waste time lifting you up from the floor and you yelped — bemused by this abrupt action. He set you over the desk and smiled, causing his smile lines to appear.

“I can't let you go this easily, pretty girl. I need more now.” You blinked and stared at him, knowing what he was hinting at. You'd sucked him dry, there was no way he could regain his strength this quickly but when your gaze lowered and you caught onto his cock hardening, you realised his age did not work as restraints to his desires.

Martin took a step back. “Open your legs, show me that pretty cunt of yours.”

“Sir but you—”

“You want to fail?” He asked, brow raised. Deep voice hiding a threat underneath and you shuddered at the unexpected change of tone.

You nodded your head, face flushed and hair sticking to your skin. Parting open your thighs, you revealed your sticky panties and Martin’s chest rumbled with a primal growl at the sight. Your panties had a wet spot and that only worked to heighten his arousal for you.

His large hands held you open, staring at how your cunt produced more and more essence of desire. Your thighs shuddered when his knuckles caressed them, his hands tugging off your panties and slipping them inside his pocket.

“But..” You complained at the perverted action of your teacher.

Martin grinned at you. “Sh, I might need them for later when my cock becomes hard at the memory of being inside your little pussy.”

Martin didn't even care to prep you. He only held his cock in his hand and rubbed his tip up and down your moist puffy cunt. Then he entered you and the stretch of your pussy made you arch your back. Your palms gripped on the edge of the table as you whimpered.

You were all over the place.

Embarrassment crept up your body like vines when you registered the situation you were in.

Willing to sleep with your older teacher only to achieve good grades. If your parents were to find out, they would look down upon you and you'd probably be expelled from your university but none of that mattered.

You needed good grades and this was the only way.

“Fuck— you've got such a tight little cunt, baby.” Martin moaned, entering you till he's pelvis had pressed up yours. Soft little whimpers escaped you when you were filled to the brim. “I'm gonna fuck you, gonna dumb you down on my cock.”

You sniffled, a lone tear sliding down.

Martin leaned in and captured your lips in a kissing, licking and sucking at yours. A hungry kiss it was but it made your cunt throb around his hard cock.

He started to pull out, only to thrust back inside you with vigor. His hips snapped repeatedly, finally losing all sense of control.

Martin’s hands held your hips, digging into them as he drove himself into the warmth of your sweet cunt. He was fucking hysterical, each thrust delivered with passion and driven by need.

Crying out from pleasure and ecstasy, your body jerked upon feeling his cock nestle into your sweet spot. You reached for his sweaty nape, wrapping both arms around it for support. The desk underneath you quaked whenever Martin would snap his cock into you.

“S-Sir, oh my god. Sir please, someone might h-hear.” You sobbed uncontrollably from the unbridled lust.

Martin brought his hand upto your face and shoved his fingers into your mouth, pressing along your wet tongue. You choked a little but allowed him to shove his fingers down your throat, tips brushing against the palate of your mouth.

“Keep quiet, yeah? Don't want anyone to know you're getting fucked by your teacher for some high grades.” Martin shushed you, staring at you with pure lust swimming in his gaze.

You kept your thighs apart, abdomen shivering from your upcoming climax and your fingernails dug into Martin’s nape, scratching at the skin. He hissed and the pain only increased his strength, thrusting harshly inside you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your release pounding at your taut stomach and with a loud cry you came all over Martin’s cock. He didn't give you any time to calm down, instead seeing how beautiful you looked when you made a mess on his cock only made him fuck you harder.

He grabbed your leg and pulled it up to his shoulder, leaning down and pressing his body firmly against yours. Martin dug himself deeper inside your tight cunt, as it clamped down on him and the man felt like you would snap him in half.

“You'll fucking cut my dick in half, baby. Relax a little, yeah? I'm close, so fucking close.” He reassured you, pressing onto your stomach to feel his cock push up against your cervix. His length grazing your walls.

He buried his face in your neck, digging his teeth into your skin. Tainting the unmarked canvas of a skin with red and blue.

Martin’s hips stuttered as he felt himself near, soon spilling inside you. His load heavy and filling you up to the brim. Thankfully you were on birth control so it didn't really matter but the feeling of his cum inside you made you twitch.

He pumped into you, emptying himself inside you for the second time but in your puffy cunt. You'd buried your head in his chest and Martin let you, finally getting what he needed from you.

He pulled out from you after you both had calmed down and caught a breath and you whimpered at the loss of contact. The blonde watched your gaping hole release his seed in drops, trailing down and making a mess on his wooden desk.

“Such a pretty, swollen cunt.” He whispered, shoving his cum back inside with his long fingers.

Your walls had grown extremely sensitive and you let out a whine when he did that. His tan skin glistened with sweat, making it appear gold like to the gaze. Hair a mess, similar to yours and his flannel shirt crinkled up. Martin fixed your skirt, pulling it down over your thighs and you realized he had fucked you in your skirt, which made this rendezvous even more hotter.

Your face flushed and sweaty, lips swollen and eyes watery.

Martin wanted to take a picture of how fucked out you looked. But he didn't — it would only cause problems if he was ever caught. Especially by his wife.

“W-Will you fix my grades now?” You asked, once you'd ran a hand through your hair and slid off the table. Lower body barely having any strength to support the upper one.

When you looked up at Martin, your eyes still held remnants of your innocence and he nearly swooned.

He nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. “With how well you took my cock, I'll fucking give you the highest grade.”

You smiled, pleased with the result. This was all you ever wanted. To pass and not be a failure and knowing your teacher’s weakness made it a whole lot easier for you.

[luckhound]

like a carnivorous flower.

↻ pairing ✦ elias/reader

↻ summary ✦ You are approached by Elias in the Institute’s break room, after the confrontation in his office. It does not go well.

↻ word count ✦ 3.9k

↻ tags ✦ gender neutral reader, elias being elias, toxic dynamic, mind games galore

note: can you tell i got to #106 and felt a certain way about it? after reading all 3k words of this, probably. the sloppiest of kisses to sierra for her suggestions and encouragement + liya for keeping me sane while i agonized over this fic.

“Damn, look at the time. I should go, my break’s nearly over,” Hannah informs you, waving as she heads out. “See you! Don’t be a stranger!”

You wave back anemically, hoping your expression resembles more of a grin than a grimace. With the last straggler gone, you are finally alone in the break room of the Magnus Institute, London. The pressure that had settled over you dissipates.

You had never been a social butterfly to begin with, but neither had you been a total recluse. Yet nowadays, you vastly prefer solitude over interacting with the Institute staff. Their gripes and concerns are so far removed from your own that it’s almost grating. You have to stop yourself from scowling the entire time you’re around them.

You feel a little guilty for being such a curmudgeon, but they’re so... chipper. Oblivious.

Ignorant.

Like you once were.

Sighing, you shuffle deeper into the kitchenette and swing open a cabinet. Now that you’re on your own, you want to finish what you came here for and leave. Before you have to make more small talk with your colleagues.

The kettle whistles all of a sudden, piercing the quiet of the break room. Though you’d anticipated it, you still flinch. Your fingers squeeze tighter around the handle of a ceramic mug; you force them to relax, loosen one digit at a time.

With your free hand, you reach over and take the kettle off the stove. It stops screeching almost immediately. You should feel relief, but the abrupt absence of sound puts you further on edge. Given recent developments, you’re more aware than ever of how heavy silence can be.

Though the Magnus Institute hosts over a hundred people a day, from staff to researchers to visitors, the same cannot be said of the Archives, nestled like a secret—or grave—underground, beneath layers of concrete. Only the Head Archivist and his archival assistants, with the occasional statement giver, stalk those corridors.

You had not minded the seclusion. In the past, it could be quiet in the Archives, but you seldom felt isolated or uncomfortable. Sure, Jon sequestered himself in his office for much of the work day; your fellow archival assistants, however, tended to be nearby, thanks to the open office floor plan. If you needed advice or wanted to chat, you merely had to crane your neck. It would even irritate you, sometimes, how often Tim would pipe up with a comment when at his desk.

Now you’d gladly welcome his familiar chatter in your ear.

An oppressive silence has fallen over the Archives. That had been the case for some time, but now there is a sense of hopelessness to it. A sense of despair.

It’s rare for the archival staff to be at their desks. Most prefer going out for drinks or conducting personal research elsewhere. You on the other hand have elected to bury yourself in work. Though you spend time with the assistants now and then, you can’t stay away from the Archives for long.

It feels strange to shirk your responsibilities. Even now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, pushing the offending thoughts far into the dark recesses of your mind. You don’t want to contemplate your new normal. You’ve done enough of that in the last few months, over stacks of case files or in the middle of the night, when sleep eluded you.

At this moment in time, you just want to brew some tea.

You set the mug in your hand on the counter. Then you grab another from the cabinet. Martin was in the basement, last you checked; he had been preparing to record a statement. He’d appreciate a hot drink once he’s done.

As you go through the motions of making tea, you try to empty your mind. Focus on adding the teabags to the mugs, then pouring in boiling water. The sharp, earthy fragrance of chamomile wafts up soon after. The taut line of your shoulders loosens.

You fix your cup the way you like it, then begin to do the same for Martin. Milk and one sugar. Makes the chamomile too sweet, you think, but he prefers it that way.

You stiffen when the unmistakable sound of footsteps on linoleum reaches your ears. Oh, great. Time to field yet another coworker’s questions and comments. Irked, you go to peer over your shoulder at the interloper.

Only to freeze in your tracks when a familiar voice calls out to you.

“Ah, so you’re here. On your lunch break, I take it?”

It takes a minute for your limbs to thaw. Gaze trained on the mug in front of you, you mechanically stir in the sugar with a teaspoon. “Yeah.”

He hums. “I assume Tim, Basira, and Melanie are out.”

“Probably.”

“Martin is still in the Archives, isn’t he? I wanted to have a word with him about the, ah, recent changes around here.”

You clench your jaw. Stir the spoon for longer than necessary. “I’ll let him know.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that. I’ll head down with you. He is nearly finished recording the statement.”

The certainty in his voice, the knowing in it, makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.

The spoon clangs against the side of the mug. You toss it in the sink, resolving to wash it later, despite the cheery note from management taped to the fridge reminding staff to clean and put away any dirty dishes. Someone might spot it before you can, but you could care less.

Grab the tea, keep your head down, get out. That’s what your mind is more preoccupied with. If you walk a little faster than normal, you might be able to lose him in the winding corridors of the Institute. He can make his way to the basement on his own.

You pick up the mugs, square your shoulders, and turn around.

Your plan falls apart quickly. You have taken all of two strides before you realize that your escape route is blocked. At some point during your plotting, he must have moved closer, with you being none the wiser.

Instinctively, your head lifts. Your startled eyes meet cool grey.

Elias looks the same as ever. He’s dressed in a tweed three-piece suit, an emerald green tie knotted at his throat. His black hair, greying at the temples, is perfectly coiffed save for an errant lock that falls over his forehead. The corners of his lips are raised, his features soft. As if he’s actually pleased to see you.

Once, not long ago, you would’ve smiled at him. Greeted him warmly. Asked him to join you if he had the time. You would’ve offered to make him a cup of tea. You know exactly how he likes it: black with no sugar.

You do none of those things. You flinch and stumble backwards.

Then you recall, much too late, that you’re holding cups of hot liquid in both of your hands.

The pain is instant. There is no time to brace yourself. Thankfully, only the tea from Martin’s mug scalds your palm; yours managed not to spill over. Still, you hiss out a pained breath, wincing.

As you struggle to maintain a tight grip on the drinks, Elias sighs. “Really,” he says. “There was no need to overreact so severely.” The mild reprimand in his tone would have made you bristle had you not been distracted.

Then he reaches out a long-fingered hand and wraps it around your own, over the ceramic handle. You restrain the impulse to rip your hand out of his gentle grip. Instead, you let him take the mug from you. He sets it aside before taking the other one as well. It joins its twin on the counter.

When you don’t move or say anything, he looks down at your injury. “You should run that under some cold water. It’ll only get worse.”

You curl your fingers into a fist. Do your best to ignore the throbbing pain. “It’s fine. I... I need to get back to work. My break must be over by now.” You’re not sure if it is, to be honest, but your priority has not changed. You want to be as far away from him as possible.

To your dismay, Elias doesn’t step aside. Your back is to the counter, and he stands between you and the sole exit.

These past few weeks, he would never linger long in your company. When you made an excuse, he’d dismiss you immediately. Nothing like how it used to be, when you’d hang back in his office or he’d loiter near your desk, chatting about whatever came to mind. Stolen little moments that you tried to make last for as long as you could.

He must have realized—with or without his powers of omniscience—that you were avoiding him.

This is the first time he has stopped you from beating a hasty retreat. You feel a sense of foreboding, like a cold finger running down your spine.

Elias folds his arms behind his back, his stance widening. Each movement precise and economical. “I have been giving you space to come to terms with the situation. I understand that you’re upset. You think I deceived you.”

His words are so baffling that you can’t bite back a scoff in time. “I don’t think, I know. You’ve been lying to all of us—for years.”

“That’s not what I was referring to.”

“This whole time, you’ve been keeping the truth from us. About the Institute, the paranormal, everything. What more is there to be pissed off about?”

You have difficulty discerning what Elias is feeling or thinking at any given moment. It used to perplex you. Captivate you. You’d spend countless minutes puzzling out what a particular word or glance had meant, only to come to no proper conclusion.

That penchant for observation, coupled with your current proximity, may be why you’re able to catch the subtle reaction. One of his eyebrows twitches, the lines around his mouth tightening before smoothing out. From irritation, possibly. But at what?

“You know,” he begins, his tone as sedate as ever, “I find your dedication to your work commendable. I’ve felt that way from the start. But you have been especially diligent as of late.”

“Learning you could literally die if you try to quit your job can do that.”

“Mm, no. I don’t believe that’s the reason.” His head tilts in a birdlike motion, his gaze intent on yours. You want to look away but you know it won’t help. You can’t hide from him. You’re starting to realize you never could. “You tend to use your duties and responsibilities as a shield against anything you find unpleasant. A way to avoid your parents’ inquiries into your life, your friends’ attempts to force you out of your shell, your own anxieties over how dull and threadbare you have become.”

You cross your arms over your chest, fighting hard not to react outwardly. “Is there a point to this, or do you just enjoy listening to yourself talk?”

“Of course,” he continues as if you hadn’t spoken, “no one has bothered with that for some time. Still, you find comfort in steady work. In routine. Though that has been tested since the day Jane Prentiss disturbed the peace, hasn’t it? Learning more about this place hasn’t helped matters either. You wonder if you should continue as you always have, or if you should follow Tim’s lead. Perhaps doing what the Institute wants, what I want, is wrong.” His lips spread into a small smile. “But you do so loathe to disappoint an authority figure.”

You become deathly still. “That’s not what this is about.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Elias agrees, to your surprise. “Though I must admit, when you were hired as an archival assistant, that’s what I thought it was. Surely the reason you went out of your way to speak with me, fetch me drinks, learn what I liked was because you wanted to ingratiate yourself with your employer. That’s how you saw it too. Then Tim and Sasha”—don’t bring her up, you want to snarl, leave her out of this, but your breath is caught in your throat—“teased you over it, called it a crush, and you knew it was different. And so did I.”

He takes a measured step closer. “It all came to a head at the annual Christmas party last year. You had a little too much to drink—to make conversations more bearable, especially after the Prentiss attack—and when we happened to find ourselves under the mistletoe, it was like fate... Except you couldn’t bring yourself to close the distance, and I didn’t make a move, so you convinced yourself it was a bad idea. A momentary lapse in judgement. Better to pretend it never happened.”

Another step. There are mere inches of space left between the two of you. “Then Tim insisted there was something strange about the Institute, something I must know about. You refused to entertain the idea. Though privately, you wondered.” His eyes remind you of smoke before a fire: the first sign of danger. “Which brings us to recent events. You were as shocked as the others when Jon reappeared out of nowhere, after being suspected of murder, and confronted me. When I finally revealed my hand. But that’s not all, is it?”

You shake your head, your arms dropping to your sides. “That’s enough, Elias.”

“You felt betrayed. I must have lied to you, encouraged your affections, for some nefarious purpose. Worse, you couldn’t unburden yourself to anyone. What would they think if they learned that you once held such tender feelings for me?”

“I mean it,” you say, voice low and warning. Your hands ball into fists, your injured palm twinging in protest, but it’s a distant feeling. “Stop.”

His gaze flays you. Cuts through flesh and sinew to your bone-white center. “Yet underneath all of that, what upsets you most is that you feel like a fool. You prize yourself on your intelligence, your diligence, your meticulousness. The very idea that someone may have been able to manipulate your thoughts and emotions... It infuriates you. Frightens—”

It happens so fast that not even your mind can keep up. One second, you’re standing across from Elias in the kitchenette of the break room. The next, you have him pinned against the opposite counter, your hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket.

You’re not sure what you meant to accomplish with this act of aggression. To make him stop talking. To see him lose his composure. To throw him off-balance for a change.

Except you’re the only one who seems affected. You’re panting for breath like you’ve run a marathon, the fists you’ve made around his lapels unable to disguise the trembling of your hands. Meanwhile Elias smiles at you, completely unruffled, looking almost indulgent. Like an adult allowing a child to throw a temper tantrum, content to wait until they’ve tired themselves out.

Is there anything you can do that he won’t already see coming?

“So you knew,” you say hoarsely. “That this entire time, I...” Your mouth is unable to form the words. “Which means you were going along with it. What I don’t get is what the point was.”

Elias sighs, the force of it causing his waistcoat to brush against your dress shirt. “You still have no idea, do you.”

You don’t like the sound of that. “Have no idea about what.”

“I have a finite amount of free time on my hands. Extremely finite. The reason I entertained your affections is simple.” He waits a beat, no doubt savouring the suspense, then says, “I wanted to.”

You blink at him, uncomprehending. He says nothing more.

“You wanted to.”

“Yes.”

You don’t ask what he means; you have a feeling you already know. The issue is that it makes no sense whatsoever.

You shake your head. “That’s not true. You never... But I thought...”

Elias adopts a puzzled mien. “Did you wish for me to announce my feelings? That would hardly be very appropriate. I am the Head of this Institute—your employer—for one. Not to mention that once you learned of my plans, it’s highly unlikely you would be receptive to pursuing a relationship. As does appear to be the case.”

He says all of it in such a calm manner. So matter-of-factly. As if he had considered the state of affairs between you and come to a conclusion about it long before.

His response should clear up your confusion, but you can’t bring yourself to believe it. Not completely, anyway. Suspicion continues to tug at you.

For years, he has kept secrets and misled everyone, for reasons you are not entirely privy to. Could this be another attempt at deception?

You had wondered whether he felt anything stronger for you than a boss does for their employee. Sometimes you got the inkling that he did. But when you had nearly kissed him at the Christmas party, he hadn’t done anything. Hadn’t smiled, or closed his eyes, or leaned in. He’d just stared. Watched as you had shifted nearer, before you lost your nerve and backed off.

Because it wasn’t appropriate. Or so he says.

Are you supposed to believe him without question? After everything he’s done?

You wish you had a way to check, to be certain.

An idea, half-formed, occurs to you.

You don’t let yourself consider it. You’re unsure how his power works, but you get the feeling that if you mull it over for too long, he may learn what you’re planning. So you move, pure instinct guiding you.

You shift closer to Elias, until your chest is pressed flush against his, and rest your injured hand on his cheek.

He hadn’t been moving much to begin with, but you feel him go unnaturally still at the sudden contact. The bone of his jaw tenses under your palm. His eyes widen a touch in what seems to be genuine surprise. For once, you don’t shy away from his gaze; you stare back.

You study him carefully, waiting for a twitch of the shoulders or twist in his features that will give him away. Prove his words false.

That doesn’t happen.

Instead, you watch as his pupils dilate. Black threatens to swallow grey whole. You don’t think you have ever seen his eyes look so charged, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. All of that intensity, that emotion, remains fixed on you.

Neither of you move.

For a few heartbeats, all that you can hear is the sound of breathing. Yours and his.

Then slowly, deliberately, Elias leans into your touch.

“Well?” he asks, his voice a deep murmur. “Are your concerns assuaged?”

His facial hair is thick and neatly groomed, but his cheeks are clean-shaven. The skin there is smooth against your palm, and warm. It might have even felt nice, had you not burned yourself just moments ago.

The contact aggravates your inflamed skin, but that’s fine. Preferred, even. It shouldn’t be pleasant.

You swallow against a dry throat. “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, I doubt the sincerity of my affections provides any comfort to you,” he answers. “But it is the truth. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

The question elicits a scowl from you.

“Not even close.”

Elias barely bats an eyelash when confronted with your ire. “As... riveting as this has been,” he says in a drawl, “we will be joined by other Institute staff within the next minute. I doubt you’d want your colleagues to walk in and see this.”

You furrow your brow at him, confused. His gaze falls to look meaningfully at something between the two of you. You follow it.

You still have him pinned against the counter, your front moulded to his and a knee parting his legs. Your hand is clutching his lapel, while your other cups his cheek, thumb resting just below the mole under his right eye. One of the buttons on his waistcoat has been digging uncomfortably into your stomach this entire time.

You had been so caught up in your thoughts, your emotions, that you hadn’t considered what this could look like to an outsider.

Should someone stumble upon you two right this second, their first impression wouldn’t be that you were physically accosting your boss over his duplicity. They would think that you were up to something far different.

Unconsciously, your attention is drawn to Elias’s mouth. His bottom lip is slightly fuller than the top. You wish you could say that you’d never realized it before, but it would be a lie. You have fantasized about how those lips would feel against yours more times than you can count.

During the Christmas party, you had almost found out.

You’re jolted out of your musings by Elias releasing a breath. You snap your head up, meeting his eyes once more. There’s a gleam in them that you can’t decipher.

“I see,” he says. Two words that you have come to dread hearing from him.

Your stomach drops.

“I was certain that your infatuation would end the moment you learned the truth about me. It appears I was wrong.”

You let go of him as if he, not the tea, had burned you. “What? No.”

He arches his brows. “No?” he parrots, a mocking edge in his tone. “Just now, you were considering—”

“Stay out of my head.” You only realize that you’ve been backing away when your hip meets the counter behind you.

He chuckles. “Rest assured, I didn’t use my abilities to deduce your intentions. It was practically written all over your face, my dear.”

You’re frozen. Caught off-guard by both his insinuation and the term of endearment. You want nothing more than to deny his absurd accusation. Of course you aren’t attracted to him, not after everything he has said and done. But something holds you back.

Perhaps the dawning horror that it might not sound very convincing.

You stare wordlessly, helplessly, as Elias adjusts his cuffs, then straightens his tweed jacket and fastens one of the buttons. Just in time for a small group of Institute staff to enter the break room, spot the two of you, and greet you cheerfully.

You somehow manage to muster a smile and return the greeting, before turning to the mugs of tea on the counter. They must be cold by now. It doesn’t matter. You’re no longer in the mood to drink anything. You empty them in the sink, then start to clean them.

Behind you, Elias exchanges pleasantries with his employees. He sounds like his usual self, the polite but distant Head of the Magnus Institute.

(Not like how he would speak with you. You had privately thought that his gaze was more keen, his tone warmer. Enough for you to notice, but be left wondering. Uncertain if you were seeing what was there or what you wanted.)

(When will you stop reminiscing about the past?)

You stiffen when you hear your name, spoken by that too-familiar voice. Though you don’t want to, you glance over your shoulder.

Elias lingers in the doorway of the break room. He smiles, a baring of teeth. “I enjoyed our discussion today. It was very enlightening. Let’s continue it another time.” He knocks twice on the doorframe, a parting sound.

Then he’s gone, and you’re left with the mess you made.

[chris-prank]

Do you have any fun facts or ideas about your little guys (gender neutrally) that you haven't shared/ properly shared yet?

I’m glad I can share some LOREEEE 😆

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Martin

🪓 I don’t know if it was clear from my drawings in part 1, but Martin is in fact trans! I didn’t mention it explicitly because I didn't find a way to write it in organically. In future works his transness will be mentioned and have more of an importance, but don’t worry guys he won’t be defined by it only!

🪓 When the apocalypse started, he stayed by his mothers side to protect and care for her, just like she did to him when he was small. He really loved his mother dearly. One of his earrings is actually from her!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Atlas

💿 Currently in his timeline, Atlas is the most advanced android on earth and not only because of the coding Hydrotech gave him. When he was saved by the reader, his program changed, making him more independent and capable of human feelings

💿 There’s a childproof setting on Atlas, meaning that his private parts can be retracted inside of him. In his main story, it is still active, since the reader didn’t canonically do anything with him yet so they don’t know about it.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Esteban

📈 He has ✨ daddy issues ✨, but more seriously he really has a bad relationship with him. When Esteban was younger he wanted to prove to his father his worth, but in adulthood he realized that he would never be proud of his accomplishments. There’s still a part of him that yearns for it, but he doesn’t expect it anymore.

📈 I hinted at it in my previous posts, but Esteban really enjoys cooking and he is skilled at it too! He especially loves to be able to make food for his partner! To him, the effort that goes into a meal is the best way to show the extent of his feelings!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Dr. Seraph

🧪 He turned to a life of crime because people in the scientific world didn’t believe that his ideas were possible, so he couldn’t explore his whole potential. Fatalité was the one to approach him and to offer him a job in exchange for limitless funding.

🧪 Vincent even used to have a small crush on Fatalité, since he was the first to believe in him. But soon it died down because of the verbal and physical abuse.

[coffee-at-daybreak]

late night reading | martin septim x reader

a/n: i may or may not have been recently engulfed by oblivion remastered and of course like the gooner i am, i fell for babygirl martin. he has no business being that precious. ik i'm going a lil off script seeing as i've only written skyrim pieces so far but i hope there's at least a few other ppl who can indulge in both <3 ty so very much for stopping by!!

You don't know what's making more noise - the forest outside, the raging thoughts in your head, or the obnoxious snoring of someone else in the Weynon house.

You turn for the tenth time in your temporary bed. It's a perfectly good bed, but like everything else right now, it just feels ... wrong. Too warm, too soft, you don't know. But you do know you cannot get comfortable enough to even think of sleeping.

As if it's not difficult enough with your mind still racing. It's been a few hours since you returned to Weynon Priory with Martin, only to walk right into disaster. A messy fight, a monk slain, the Amulet of Kings gone. Every bone in your body wanted to chase after those attackers, but Jauffre was right - it was foolish to pursue them through the woods at night.

So, you must wait. Dawn can't be too far off, but Gods, the hours are dragging by.

Your head hurts. You don't know whether it's the lack of sleep, the aftermath of the battle, the stress pulling your body tight like a bowstring - or a fun combination of everything.

Exasperated, you dart out of the bed and head downstairs. Maybe some fresh air will help.

You don't bother being silent with your footsteps, especially with that snoring upstairs. You hurry down the steps and start to cross the room towards the front door when a hushed call of your name comes from behind you.

You turn around, your body half prepared to draw a weapon. But instead of an enemy, you see Martin seated on a bench in the corner, bathed in the faint light of a lantern propped up next to him. His pale blue eyes, softened with concern, catch your own.

"Are you alright?" He asks. His voice is as hushed and gentle as ever. "What's happened?"

You hesitate, glancing between him and the door. "N-nothing. I was just..." You turn your full attention to him. "Wait, what are you doing down here?"

He offers a small, sheepish smile and lifts his hands briefly to reveal an open book in them. "I'm sure it's no surprise, but ... reading."

It's certainly not a surprise. Almost every stop and moment of respite you'd had on your way back from Kvatch involved him reading some tome or another. The familiarity of it is oddly relaxing, though. The erratic pace of your heart and breathing starts to come down.

"Sort of an odd time to be reading, isn't it?" You ask. You keep your tone light to show you're only teasing, but your voice shakes a little on the last word. And attentive as he is, Martin notices.

"Perhaps. But is it not an odd time to be heading outside?" His eyes dart from you to the window, where it's very obviously pitch black outside.

You purse your lips and shrug. "What are the odds we get attacked again?"

Martin just looks at you with deep concern. "Please, do not test those odds."

You smile. It wasn't the first time you said or did something to give him that little crease in his brow, or that worried frown tugging on his lips. Something about that look causes your heart to stir.

You heave a soft sigh and finally step away from the door, instead moving for the same corner as him. To your relief, he scoots over on the bench, leaving just enough space for you.

"I take it you can't sleep either?" You ask as you take a seat next to him. You're close enough to sense the subtle warmth of his body and to catch that faint smell of clean fabric and mint he always carries. You don't know whether to be comforted or thrilled by it.

"There was a feeble attempt made," he admits. "It seems my mind is not as exhausted as my body is."

You nod to that. You start to voice your agreement when you're interrupted by another loud snore from upstairs. "I suppose it comes easy to some people," you mutter.

Martin gives you a soft chuckle, a rare but delightful sound to your ears. "I am envious of them," he says.

A moment of quiet passes, then he is asking you again with that oh so gentle voice. "Are you alright?"

You stare at your boots, mulling over your response. "I don't know. I feel a little ... overwhelmed."

There's another pause as he gives you a chance to continue. That's when you realize who exactly you're talking to. You fight back a cringe and turn to look at him. "I'm sorry. I'm sure that's nothing compared to how you feel."

His face softens and he shakes his head. "This is no competition, my friend. Your feelings are valid." He casts a glance to the woods visible through the window. "There is a lot ahead of us, and it's natural to be uncertain."

You feel a small jab in your chest. You wonder if he's thinking of his approaching title as Emperor. To go from a simple priest to the next ruler of Cyrodiil... He sure has a lot on his plate.

"But I have faith it will all unfold as we go, and we are on the right path." His eyes flick back to meet yours. "I am glad we are on it together."

Warmth blooms from inside you. Some of it even reaches your skin, your cheeks tingling a little as you smile at him.

He suddenly looks away, averting his gaze. Maybe you're imagining it in the low glow of the lantern, but it actually looks like he might be the flushed one.

"I am sorry you are unable to sleep," he adds. "If there is anything in particular you would like to speak of, I am here to listen."

Your heart swells at the offer, and you do consider it for a second. "Thank you, but it's alright. I'd rather just keep my mind off of it." Your eyes jump to the book in his hands. "Can I ask what you're reading?"

He turns it to show you the cover. "'Incident at Necrom'. I believe it is a fictional work on illusion magic."

You hum curiously. "Sounds fascinating." You are about to ask him for a summary, but a better idea crosses your mind. "Would you be willing to read it to me?"

Martin is obviously caught off guard by that request, and you almost laugh at that surprised little stretch to his eyes. "Forgive me, but ... is that a jest?" He asks with just a hint of nervousness.

"Not at all. I'd love to hear it," you assure him.

He hesitates only a moment longer, but when he realizes you really aren't joking, he relaxes and opens the book. "Then I'd be glad to."

He flips the pages until he's back to the start of the book, and clears his throat quietly before beginning. "'The situation simply is this'..."

It's suddenly easy to ignore everything else - the forest outside, the raging thoughts in your head, the obnoxious snoring upstairs. Instead you are lost in the deep but soft cadence of his voice. It calms you, soothing away the tension both in your mind and body.

Without thinking much of it, you tip your head down until it's leaning ever so lightly on his shoulder. He stutters on the current word for only a second, but continues in spite of the speedy heart rate you just gave him.

[jaehyunsbreadbasket]

Fuck The Rules- Mindy Meeks-Martin (Part Two)

Word Count: 3.4K

Synopsis: It's your last night alive and you only have one mission: fuck Mindy Meeks-Martin.

Consists of: Gender neutral AFAB reader, Dom!Mindy, Verse!Mindy (top leaning), Sub!Reader, Verse!Reader (bottom leaning), mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is so sickeningly in love with Mindy, brief mentions of food, cunnilingus, fingering (reader receiving), face sitting, a bit of overstimulation, brief mentions of masturbation, light fluff here and there, Ghostface accusations, reader is pussy drunk

Previously: "You wanna go upstairs?" Mindy looks to me and grabs my hand. I almost faint right then and there. She just had her tongue shoved down my throat but hand holding is when I lose it.

"What about the rules?" I ask her. I'm teasing again, but in the back of my head I'm also saying this to create an escape route for either of us, for me mostly.

"Fuck the rules," she pulls both of us up and after I nod to her she leads me away. Her and Chad flip each other off as we climb up the stairs.

We find an empty room surprisingly fast. After a bit of thought I'm sure it's because no one in this town is dumb enough to risk separating from the group. Well no one but me and Mindy, I guess. Mindy closes and locks the door, giving me that intense look she did downstairs, walking towards me as I walk backwards, her powerful eyes pushing me right onto the bed. Mindy smiles as she joins me, immediately getting on top of me. She strokes my face, moving my hair out of the way, "You're so pretty, baby." There's that heat filling my body again. Her hands on me, her body hovering over me, and her staring at me in a way that no one else ever has in my entire life. It's as if she's examining every aspect of my face, taking a mental picture for safe keeping. If I wasn't so entranced by that look in her eyes, so completely under her spell, there's no way I would be able to keep eye contact with her the way I am right now. She leans in slowly and kisses me once again, just as passionate as she was downstairs, but undeniably softer, more gentle, more…loving. Holy shit, Mindy Meek-Martin is kissing me like she loves me.

She slowly slides her hands across my body, toying with the hem of my shirt before lifting my upper body and taking it off entirely. Mindy kisses my ear and jaw as she undoes my bra strap at an impressively quick speed. She leans away from me and lets out a harsh, open-mouthed breath as she stares at my chest. Without hesitation she puts one of my nipples in her mouth, palming at my other tit as she looks up at me with those eyes and I think I might cum then and there. She bites down on my nipple and I gasp as my eyes go wide. I can hear her muffled chuckle from around my tit. As she continues sucking, she undoes my pants as well, messily pulling them down without trying to break away from my chest just yet.

"I have never seen anyone more perfect in my whole life," Mindy lets out, finally viewing my whole body. "I'm gonna make you feel so good baby. All those years of pining you've been doing will all be made up for, gorgeous." Mindy bites her lip as she glides her hands up and down my legs before, spreading them and coming face to face with my wet, throbbing cunt. She takes a deep whiff of my scent in. An act so disgustingly intimate, it makes me feel dizzy. She moves her nose against my clit, as if she's playing a game with it. It's so silly, I can't help but laugh. Instead of doing the natural next step, which would be putting her mouth on my swollen clit, she comes back up to meet my eyes, and gives me another amazing kiss. As Mindy moves her tongue through my mouth in a way that makes my brain go dumb, I'm completely caught off guard when she suddenly shoves two fingers inside me. She was completely aware of the effect this shock would have on me as she begins to laugh against my lips right on cue with my loud gasp. She moves her hand at a steady pace, not too slow or too fast, like she's a fucking pro. Which I seriously don't doubt she is. In a small town like Woodsboro, the openly gay population is considerably small, it's no surprise why all the girls in town would be coming in her direction. I don't even have the mental capacity to worry about how many girls have came before me right now though, because all that matters right now is that it's finally me. "Fuck, Mindy," I moan out.

"Yeah you like that, baby?" She gives me a breathy smile as she watches my face squirm.

"I like it so much, Mindy!" I bite my lip as she begins going faster.

"I told you it'd be good. You could be next on the chopping block, gotta make it worth it." I did not need that reminder of the reality we're living in and that there's a killer on the loose. I'd much prefer a life where all that I do is stay in this bedroom with Mindy. Just me and her, everyday, just like this.

Mindy kisses all over my upper body, any place where she can reach. She's had her lips on my neck, my cheeks, my forehead, my shoulders, my ears, my nose, and my lips of course. I can feel a tiny bit of love in every fleeting peck, and I wish this moment could last forever. Mindy begins to curve her fingers upwards all of a sudden, making me let out a loud groan as I squeeze my eyes shut. She feels so much deeper now, hitting a whole new angle. "Y/N…I've got something to tell you," Mindy's voice shifts in it's sound.

I open my eyes to look at her, her sobering tone catching me way off guard, "Yes?"

As she keeps fingering me hard, she looks me dead in my eyes and says, "I'm the killer."

I look at her with confusion at first, but then I begin to laugh. Clearly she must be joking. My sweet, goofy Mindy, a murderer? No way in hell. I expect her to join me in my laughter, returning the silly vibe that has been framing our entire interaction thus far tonight. But when she doesn't and instead stares into my soul again, a look that gives me a whole different feeling from her lustful eyes when we first got in here, my blood begins to run cold. The strange look Mindy's giving me does nothing to change the way she's pounding her fingers into my cunt right now, and as I open my mouth to speak, to say anything at all to break this uncomfortable tension, Mindy thrusts a third finger into me, stretching my cunt to the brim. "OH MY FUCKING GOD," I yell out, my back arching off the mattress. We continue to stare at each other, neither of us daring to break eye contact. I feel chills go all down my back, a result of the pure fear running through me mixed with the sensation still relentlessly meeting my cunt. It's an odd thing this moment, because I'm actually starting to consider the possibility of Mindy being an extremely violent person, but at the same time, the love I've harbored for her all these years, and her skills in the bedroom that could only be described as godly makes me question just how much I would care. But if she's brutally killed so many others, what would stop her from finishing me off. I could have just walked right into sudden death, and I had told her how I wanted it to happen. She slowly creeps her free hand up to my throat and wraps her fingers around it, my eyes become huge with fear, in this very moment, Mindy could be giving me the unique death I asked for. Being strangled while she stretches my cunt open. Taking my final breath as she prods at my g-spot. Would it really be so bad to die in her hands? Before I have time to continue pondering my mortality, Mindy finally breaks the bone-chilling face she's been giving me and let's out the most maniacal laugh I've ever heard.

"Oh I'm sorry. Seriously, I'm so sorry, Y/N. I just couldn't pass up that opportunity. I'm not the killer. Swear!" She struggles to get her words out from all her laughing and removes her hand from my neck to put her hand up as she gives her word, "Even though that's exactly what the killer would say," she adds on inquisitively.

I give her soft punches on her chest, "I hate you!"

"Well that can't be true," she says rolling her eyes cockily.

"You're horrible, I hate you!" I repeat to her, urging her to repent for the twisted joke she just played on me.

"Don't say that, it's so mean!" she feigns offense.

"Oh I'm the mean one!?" I laugh at her sheer audacity.

"Yes, because I make one little joke and suddenly you attack my entire character. I am a respected citizen around here."

"Respected by who exactly?"

"You, of course. You really love me. I mean, for a second you seriously considered that I was the killer and you still let me keep fingering you? When you said you'd risk your life for this, you really weren't kidding. I can't believe you're actually that desperate for me. You know, you really know how to make a girl feel appreciated." I close my eyes and hide my face in embarrassment for being completely put on the spot. There's no witty rebuttal I can pull out now that I've been read like a level 1 book. "Don't worry though baby, I think it's really really cute," Mindy moves to whisper that in my ear before moving my hands away and giving me a kiss on the side of my face. She moves to my other ear, "I think you're really cute," and she kisses the other side. And just like that she's back to kissing me all over, remedying the heart attack she almost gave me just minutes prior. Mindy moves herself south, coming face to face with my cunt yet again, she slowly pulls her three fingers out of me and immediately replaces that stimulation with her warm mouth. The loud slurping sounds of her on my cunt are so perverse they make my eyes roll back. Mindy eats me out like a starved woman, as if my pussy was the first meal she had in weeks.

"Holy shit, Mindy, that's so good," My head falls back as my eyes go too. Mindy alternates from moving her tongue in circles around my clit, and flexing it before sticking it in my hole. Once again, she's proven herself to be quite the expert. She reaches one of her hand up to grasp onto one of my tits, fondling it in a slightly rough fashion, while she contrasts with her other free hand softly stroking my inner thigh. It doesn't take a lot for me to get close, especially after the insane fingering she gave me before this, and before I know it, my back's once again arching off the bed and my fingers are grabbing at her curly black hair. "Mindy, Mindy, Mindy, oh I'm so fucking close," I let out breathlessly. I can feel Mindy chuckling against my cunt as she unearths this mind-numbingly good suction on my clit. My body thrashes on the bed wildly, trying to escape the intense feelings rushing over me. Much how I had considered escaping before coming up these stairs with Mindy. God, I can't believe I ever even considered passing up on this for a single second. Mindy takes her hand away from my tits and uses it to hold down my other thigh, keeping me from moving away from her mouth. She begins to hum against my pussy, immediately taking me over the edge with that added vibration. I pull her hair so hard, I'm lucky it's still on her scalp as I cream all over her tongue. "Ohhh my GOD, Mindy. Oh. My. God." I plop back down on the bed, my chest heaving, my vision going slightly blurry.

Mindy comes up from my cunt, smiling as she wipes my wetness off the corner of her mouth, "How was that?" She asks in a way that I'm sure is supposed to be smug. She knows exactly how it was, she heard me, she sees how completely fucked out she has me right now, she literally just wiped my cum off her mouth, "Tell me how it was," she presses again.

"Sorry, I'm trying to teach myself to breathe again, Mindy."

She still looks at me expectedly, waiting for her string of praise, "It was amazing Mindy."

"Really? What was amazing about it?" She cocks her head to the side with a smile.

"Everything! You are…amazing at that." I still attempt to steady my heart rate.

"But I'm sure you've had better though, right?" She says and feigns a pout. So Mindy Meeks-Martin has a praise kink, good to know.

"No, I haven't, Mindy. You're the best. The best I've ever had." She laughs at this proudly and bites her bottom lip as she watches me finally manage to slow my breath.

By the time my mind clears, I realize that Mindy is still fully clothed. All this time I've spent fantasizing about her body and I haven't even seen it yet. I reached over for her, tapping on her cotton-clad thigh, "Take these off."

Her face does a little twitch when I ask her this, as if she didn't expect me to be so straightforward, as if she forgot that I walked into this night with nothing to lose. "Well why ever would I want to do that?" She asks in faux confusion.

"So that you can sit on my face," I point both my index fingers to my face and give her a little smile, "So take. Them. Off."

"Bossy bossy," she gives a weak complaint as she gets off the bed to unbutton her pants and pulls them down slowly, she's teasing me. She somehow manages to pull her panties off even slower, and I'm sure this is the closest I've ever gotten to agony. When she finally pulls those down to, her pretty pussy on display for me, she smiles at me with her bottom lip between her teeth.

"That too," I point to her top half where she's still donning her little graphic tee. She pulls it over her head at a more acceptable speed and points to her bra, asking if she should remove that too, "Obviously," I tell her with a nod. She laughs as she unhooks her bra—her perky nipples now out for me to see—and climbs back in bed with me. She crawls over to me and makes her way to straddle my face, her perfect pussy hovering over my mouth. She looks down at me, her eyes already blown up as I grasp her ass and palm it for a moment before using it to push Mindy into my mouth.

The moment her wetness hits my lips I feel like my heart's going to explode out of my chest. Her flavor is the perfect combination of sweet and tangy, and I know now that nothing has ever tasted as good on my tongue and I'm certain nothing will ever beat it. I'm in awe of how this is my real life right now. I'm in awe of her. I can't believe that after all these years of wanting, the girl that I've dreamed of forever has had both pairs of her lips on my mouth all in one night. I look up at Mindy and she has her eyes closed and her lip between her teeth again, there's a slight flush painting her cheeks; could Mindy be…embarrassed? I was unaware that shyness was an emotion that it was possible for her to feel. I reach up and rub her back with the intention of soothing her, of letting her know that I'm here. With how she's holding back her moans and refusing to make eye contact, I can't help but question just how often Mindy's partners have returned the gift of pleasure back to her. Now even more than ever, I want Mindy to feel amazing, because that's exactly what she is, and that's exactly how she made me feel. I dig my tongue deeper into her sweet cunt and move my head around with the intention of reaching every angle of her tight hole. Mindy breathes heavier than before, huffing roughly as she, ironically, is now the one trying to arch herself away from my tongue. But I'm net letting her get away, there's nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, that could keep me off this pussy. I tighten my hold on her plump ass and start moving her body back and forth on my tongue, making her grind on my face. She's all pants and twitches until I finally manage to get a sound out of her, "Fuck!" she shouts out, and by the way her eyes widen, I see she's instantly shocked by her current volume. I laugh from underneath her which makes her jerk up yet again. I hope that my eyes alone are enough to convey to her that she has nothing to be embarrassed about, and that it's more than okay for her to get loud. It's funny how she's always the biggest personality in the room, the center of attention, but when she's alone with me like this, receiving something from me, she becomes as quiet as a mouse. It seems my eyes have communicated the message I wanted them to because Mindy giggles a little bit, grabs onto the headboard and begins grinding on my face at her own pace. Regaining her famous confidence. She lets out whimper after whimper as she rides me like a horse, rubbing her own torso and tits with her free hand as she allows herself to use me like a toy, "Your tongue feels sooo good Y/N, oh fuck!" Mindy does a mix of a whisper and a shout. It isn't until then that I remember we're in a house full of people, and that anyone who came up these stairs most certainty heard me being loud as fuck for Mindy earlier like a little whore. Well now I have a reason to be glad that there's a killer on the loose, because that definitely is taking up all the space in everyone's brain, leaving none for the obnoxious teasing I would face for that moment under normal circumstances.

Mindy looks down at me as she continues quickly grinding on my tongue. I can see how it's a struggle for her to keep her eyes open at this point, they keep fluttering shut before she forces them back open, I know that she has to be close. I decide to take a page out of Ms. Meeks-Martin's book and pull out that same suction move she did on me that made me lose my mind. Her head whips back and that's the moment I know I've got her. Now all of a sudden she's all gasps, and "fucks" and "shits". Completely broken down for me. Having Mindy Meeks-Martin melting for me like this is better that winning the lottery. I hold her down in one spot as her whole body shakes and then just like that, her cream is covering my lips. I stick my tongue all the way inside her and swirl it around her hole, determined to to get as much of her sweet nectar in my mouth as possible, I refuse to let a single drop of her juice go to waste. This is the kind of cunt you can get addicted to. I watch as her face contorts wildly as a response to my fervor, any shame left in her completely dissipating. And I'm looking up at that exact expression that I'd imagined countless times, that never failed to get me off, and as my pussy twitches for her, I know that I can now die happy.

"Fuck, my ears are ringing," Mindy groans as she tries to lift herself up, she has to actually pull my head away to get my mouth off her, and I can't help but follow her up, completely hypnotized by that pussy. Her body flops down next to me as she stares at the ceiling, her chest quickly moving up and down, "Your mouth, is crazy," she turns her head to look at me.

"You taste heavenly," I reply as a turn my whole body towards her, brushing her hair out of her beautiful face, "I'm really glad you're the one I risked my life with tonight."

Mindy smiles a smile so soft that it can't be described as anything less than adorable, and then in true Mindy Meeks-Martin fashion asks me, "Wait…what if you're the killer?"

I raise my eyebrow at her and we give each other a challenging look before bursting into a harmonious laugh.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Finally the long awaited part 2! Hopefully y'all believe it was worth the wait!!

Scream Masterlist

[multifandomfanficss]

My Masterlist

My fanfics can also be found at adriansglasses on AO3.

This lists each fandom in alphabetical order and lists the characters I have written for before. I will add to this list when I start writing for more characters or fandoms. Most fics are gender neutral reader unless otherwise specified.

Doom Patrol/Dead Boy Detectives

This is the version from Doom Patrol with inspiration from the 2014 comic run

Doctor Who

The Doctor

Ghostbusters

Egon Spengler

Good Omens

Crowley

Crowley and Aziraphale

Gotham

Ed Nygma

Peacemaker

Adrian Chase/Vigilante

Christopher Smith/Peacemaker

Sophie Song

All 11th Street Kids are heavily featured in some fics

The Boys/Gen V

Hughie Campbell

Annie January

Sam Riordan

The Crew

Jake Martin

Time After Time

HG Wells

Twisters

Tyler Owens

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

No Control* // Chad Meeks Martin x Reader x Ethan Landry

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: things are awkward after your boyfriend, chad, walked in on you with his best friend, ethan. you’re terrified that you’ve ruined everything, but chad has other ideas.

warnings: language, smut, threesome, switch!chad, switch!reader, switch!ethan, use of the pet name “good boy” once, p in v, masturbation, hand job, being caught the morning after

word count: 3.3k

a/n: reader has female anatomy, but gender neutral pronouns are used. also im relatively new to writing smut, so apologies of its not the best!

part one part two

Stained coffee cup

Just a fingerprint of lipstick's not enough

Sweet, where you lay

Still a trace of innocence on the pillow case

Chad sat up straight on his bed, staring blankly at the wall. His mind racing with the image of you and Ethan together. His girlfriend and his best friend. He should be furious. Right? So why wasn’t he? Maybe he was a little sad, the thought that you don’t love him anymore staying in the back of his mind. But he knew you better than that. You loved him. You still do. Things were perfect between the two of you, there was no way you suddenly got tired of him overnight.

Realistically? Chad figured that you somehow found out about Ethan’s little crush on you, which he wasn’t that good at hiding, and that you had reciprocated the feelings. You had somehow found yourself falling in love with someone else, while still loving Chad all the same. And Chad couldn’t even blame you. After all, it was Ethan. Chad would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about his roommate in that way more than a few times. 

Still, he wished you had just talked to him about all this. Everything would’ve been so much easier. But he knew why you didn’t. You felt like you were betraying him. And in a way, you had. You went behind his back and slept with someone else. But if he was being honest with himself, had he been in the same situation with Ethan, he probably would’ve done the same exact thing you had. 

Waking up beside you, I'm a loaded gun

I can't contain this anymore

I'm all yours, I've got no control, no control

“Chad? You here?” Ethan asked, shutting the door to their dorm behind him as he walked inside. 

Chad’s head perked up slightly at the sound of Ethan’s voice, but he didn’t make a move to respond. He heard footsteps coming closer, and then the door to his bedroom slowly creaked open. Ethan poked his head in, and Chad turned to face him.

“Hey,” Ethan said, tugging awkwardly at the collar of his shirt. 

“Hi,” Chad replied, not quite meeting Ethan’s eyes.

After waiting a few moments, Ethan realized Chad wasn’t going to speak again, so he took that as permission to enter the room. Ethan walked over and sat down next to Chad on his bed. Chad went back to staring at the wall, and Ethan looked over at Chad nervously.

“Look man, I can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am. I never should’ve-”

“Do you love them?” Chad asked, cutting Ethan off.

“What…?” Ethan asked, taken aback by the question. 

Chad finally turned his head to look at Ethan, and he repeated the question.

“Do you love them?”

After a pause, Ethan nodded. “Well, uhm, yeah. I- I think I do. No, I- I definitely do. I love them.”

Chad hummed in response, looking away again. The tension between the two of them was palpable, but it wasn’t for the reason that Ethan assumed it was.

“Do you love me?” Chad asked, too nervous to take his gaze off the floor.

“Huh?” Ethan replied, almost sounding confused by the question.

“You heard me. Do you?”

“Well, I mean of course I do. You’re my best friend,” Ethan answered, not sure what to make of the question.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Chad said, his voice shaking. He finally forced himself to face Ethan. 

“Oh. OH,” Ethan said, the true meaning of Chad’s question finally clicking in his head. “Uhm, yeah. I- I do.”

The look of pure terror slowly faded from Chad’s face. “Why did you never say anything?”

“Well, you were with y/n. And- well I’ve never felt like this for a guy before, I didn’t know what to make of it. I guess I was just… scared.” Ethan’s cheeks turned pink as he met Chad’s eyes. “Wait, does that mean you feel the same way?”

“Does this answer your question?”

Chad leaned in and kissed him, his hand resting on the side of Ethan’s face. Ethan’s eyes widened, and he froze, his brain short-circuiting by the sudden affection. Once his mind caught up with his body, he started to kiss Chad back. They both felt dizzy, months of unspoken feelings all pouring out within a few moments. It felt magical. And even more than that, it felt right.

Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious

I just can't get enough of you

The pedal's down, my eyes are closed, no control

You laid on your bed, staring up at your ceiling, tears staining your face. Your roommate, Anika, was out on a date with Mindy, so you didn’t even bother trying to keep quiet as you sobbed. You ruined things with Chad, and consequently, you might’ve ruined things with Ethan as well. You felt like you were living in hell, and the worst part was that it was a hell of your own making. Why couldn’t you have just been honest? Or better yet, you should’ve just made a decision. 

But even attempting to do that would’ve been pointless, and you knew that. You wouldn’t be able to choose. You loved Chad, and over the course of your blossoming relationship with Ethan, you felt yourself beginning to fall in love with him too. You couldn’t choose because you loved them both. You didn’t have a favorite, or a preference. You wanted them both. But realistically, that wasn’t going to be possible. 

You felt yourself finally beginning to drift off to the blissful relief of sleep, when a loud knocking at your front door jolted you awake. Groaning, you forced yourself out of bed. It was probably just Anika, who somehow always forgot her keys. You trudged over to the door and pulled it open, preparing to poke fun at your roommate for her forgetfulness, when you saw Chad and Ethan standing outside your door. 

“Oh, uhm. Hi?” you said, inwardly cringing at how awkward you sounded.

“Can we come in? We need to talk to you,” Chad said, Ethan nodding in agreement.

You felt your stomach twisting in knots as you nodded and moved aside to let them in. They were probably here to tell you that they both wanted to break it off with you. That you were selfish and disgusting, and that they wanted to move on and find someone better than you. But when you looked back up at their faces, neither of them seemed upset. In fact, they almost seemed… giddy? That was the only word you could think of to describe it. And that just confused you even more.

They walked inside, and you shut the door behind them. Chad walked into your open bedroom, with Ethan following right behind him. You went in after them, sitting down on your bed, feeling a slight bit confused as they did the same. 

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Taste on my tongue

I don't want to wash away the night before

In the heat, where you lay 

I could stay right here and burn in it all day

“Do you still love me?” Chad asked, even though he already knew the answer.

You scrunched your eyebrows up in confusion, nodding anyway. “Of course I do. Did you really have to ask me that?”

“What about me?” Ethan asked, turning your attention towards him.

You nodded again, not quite following. “Uh, yeah. I do.”

Ethan smiled, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight. How had it taken you so long to realize how breathtakingly gorgeous he was?

“So, we have something to ask you,” Chad said.

“Which is?” you replied, feeling more confused as time went on. It didn’t seem like either of them were dumping you. So what was going on?

“Would you be interested in being with both of us? Like officially?” Chad asked.

Your eyes widened in shock. He wasn’t being serious, right? He looked so upset when he caught you with Ethan a few hours ago. Why was he suddenly in support of it?

“Are you serious? You would be okay with that?”

“Well, yeah,” Chad answered.

“It wouldn’t be like you just dating the both of us. It would be all three of us, together,” Ethan chimed in.

The puzzle pieces clicked in your head. Finally, you understood what was going on. Not only did they both want you, but they also wanted each other. That’s why Chad wasn’t angry when he saw you and Ethan together. That weird expression on his face finally made sense. He thought it was hot. You felt all your nerves disappear, and a smile grew on your face.

You turned to Chad. “You liar! I knew you had feelings for Ethan! You’re not as discreet as you think.”

Ethan laughed, a smile on his face. “Wait, you knew he liked me?”

“Are you kidding? That one time we all went to the beach, he almost choked on his smoothie when you took your shirt off!”

Chad smiled awkwardly, feeling slightly embarrassed by the current conversation. “Okay, okay. We don’t need to talk about all of that…”

“Oh, but I think we do,” you smiled mischievously.

Chad waved dismissively, trying to change the subject. “You still never gave us an answer. Do you-”

You cut him off, “Yes, obviously!”

Waking up beside you, I'm a loaded gun

I can't contain this anymore

I'm all yours, I've got no control, no control

“Oh my god!”

You groaned slightly, being stirred from your sleep by the sound of shouting coming from somewhere near your bedroom door. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and your sight came into focus. Anika and Mindy were standing on the other side of your open door, wide eyed.

“My eyes!” Mindy shouted, her hands flying up to shield her face. 

“Mindy, grow up,” Anika said, laughing softly at her girlfriend’s theatrics.

Why were they freaking out? What’s going on? Oh. That was why. Chad and Ethan were asleep on either side of you, all of your clothes scattered across your bedroom floor. The only thing protecting your decency was the comforter pulled over the three of you. But it wasn’t very hard to figure out what happened. Which judging by their reactions, Anika and Mindy already had.

“What’s all the yelling about?” Chad mumbled, slowly waking up.

He looked around, his eyes meeting Mindy, and he dove under the blanket instantly in a panic. You giggled as you watched Chad freak out, finding his panic to be quite hilarious. 

“So, when did this happen?” Anika asked, a teasing smile on her face.

You shrugged, feeling quite awkward about being caught in this position. “Uh… last night?”

“Is it safe to look now?” Mindy asked, her hands still over her eyes.

“Chad’s hiding under the blanket if that’s what you’re worried about,” you replied, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

Slowly, Mindy lowered her hands, feeling less nauseated once Chad was out of view. “I know you and my brother are together, but I never want to have to deal with that image ever again.”

“Wait, so was this like a hookup, or…?” Anika asked, still very invested in this whole situation.

“No. We’re together. Like, all of us,” you replied, smiling awkwardly.

“Can we please finish this conversation after we have our clothes back on?” Chad asked, his voice muffled by the blanket over his head.

Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious

I just can't get enough of you

The pedal's down, my eyes are closed, no control

You, Chad, and Ethan have been together for almost a month now. Everything was perfect. It was everything you had ever dreamed of and more. You had two boyfriends, who you loved unconditionally, and who felt the same about you. Sure, there were still some issues, but every relationship has them. But getting to be with both of them was worth any problem that came your way.

Soon, Anika moved out of your shared apartment to live with Mindy, and your boyfriends moved in. It took a while to get your living situation sorted out, but soon it felt perfect. Everything was so domestic. You had never felt happier, and Chad and Ethan felt the same way. Having two boyfriends just made your life more exciting. You couldn’t even begin to describe all of the feelings this relationship gave you. And your sex life got a hell of a lot more exciting too.

Lost my senses, I'm defenseless

Her perfume's holding me ransom

Sweet and sour, heart devoured

Lying here, I count the hours

“What is it? What do you want, baby?” you asked Ethan, gripping his jaw tightly to keep his eyes trained on you. 

Ethan whined and reached out towards you, only for Chad to slap his hand away.

“Use your words baby. How are we supposed to give you what you want if you don’t tell us?” Chad said, his tone condescending.

“I- I want you to touch me. Please, touch me,” Ethan begged, desperation in his voice.

“What do you think Chad? Has he been good enough?” 

“I think so baby. He’s always such a good boy for us. Isn’t that right, Ethan?”

Ethan nodded eagerly, or nodded as best as he could, your hand still gripping his jaw tightly.

“Alright then. How do you want us to touch you baby…?” you let go of Ethan’s jaw, your hand sliding down his bare chest instead.

“I- I don’t care. However you want. Just touch me please,” Ethan whimpered, sounding even more desperate for anything you and Chad decided to give him.

You lightly pushed on Ethan’s shoulders, making him lie down on your bed. You moved to straddle his boxer-clad waist, eliciting a soft moan from Ethan at the small bit of friction. You were dressed in nothing but your bra and panties, a lilac set that Ethan gifted you. The sight of you in it always made his head spin.

Chad kneeled beside you, resting back on his heels. He palmed himself through his boxers, sighing in relief at the feeling. You looked over at Chad, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

Chad sighed, “No.”

“You know you’re not allowed to unless I give you permission.”

“I- I know,” he said, looking a bit upset at having been caught.

Waking up, beside you I'm a loaded gun

I can't contain this anymore

I'm all yours, I've got no control, no control

You went to say something else, when Ethan flipped you over, straddling your hips and keeping you pinned to the bed. Chad raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. He shifted closer to the two of you, intrigued by the change in the situation.

“Whatcha doing baby?” you asked, looking up at Ethan, seeming completely unfazed. Almost as if you had expected this.

Ethan smiled down at you. “You were taking too long. Need you too bad to wait. I think Chad can agree with me on that.”

“Oh, definitely,” Chad said, moving to kneel by your head.

“So what’re you gonna do about it?” you taunted, knowing full well what they intended to do. 

“We’re just gonna take what we want,” Ethan said, leaning down to kiss you.

You kissed him back, your hands getting tangled in his hair. You tugged lightly, causing him to whimper. You smirked against his lips, before biting down on his bottom lip. Just hard enough to hurt, without causing any damage. Chad whined slightly, causing you and Ethan to let out a laugh at his neediness.

“Aww, you want some attention too baby?” you asked, sitting up slightly, pulling Chad into a kiss.

He kissed you hungrily, seeming utterly desperate for your touch. You felt Chad being pulled off of you, and you were confused for a moment, until you saw Ethan pull Chad in to meet his lips. You grinned up at the sight, watching your boyfriends make out above you. You could never get over how hot they were, especially when they were together. 

Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious

I just can't get enough of you

The pedal's down, my eyes are closed, no control

“Fuck! Just like that baby. You’re doing so good,” Ethan said as he pounded into you mercilessly. 

You moaned and babbled unintelligibly, your ability to form words long gone from the immense pleasure you were feeling. Ethan had your legs up over his shoulders, his thumb working intently on your clit, as he pistoned in and out of your dripping heat. Chad kneeled above you, jerking himself off above your face, his precum dripping down to coat your lips. 

You were a mess, falling apart at their hands. You reached out to Chad, pushing his hand away and replacing it with your own. He let out a strangled moan, his hips bucking forward into your touch. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking good at that,” Chad said, breathless and dizzy with pleasure.

“They’re absolute heaven,” Ethan added, his hips stuttering as he spilled his load into the condom. 

You whined at the feeling, speeding up your hand on Chad’s throbbing cock. Ethan sped up his movements on your clit, throwing you over the edge as you came with a cry. Chad followed soon after, his cum painting your face. You let your hand fall, utterly exhausted and out of breath.

Ethan pulled out, causing you to wince slightly from the sensitivity. He pulled the condom off and tied it, tossing it in the trash can. You were still out of it, mind floating in a state of pure bliss. Chad smiled down at you, in awe of your beauty. Ethan returned before you even realized he had left, a warm cloth in his hand which he used to clean you off. 

You felt yourself slowly come back to reality when you felt yourself being tucked into bed between your boyfriends, new sheets on the bed, and a comfy pair of pajamas on your body. 

No control

No control

You rolled over to face Ethan, an annoyed (but not really) smile on your face. “You asshole! I was supposed to be in charge tonight!” 

You shoved his shoulder playfully, trying to appear angry. But he could see right through you. He simply smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Sorry baby. You just looked so good I couldn’t resist. You’ll be in charge next time, I promise. Absolutely no overthrowing.”

He laughed softly at the pout on your face. You both knew you weren’t really upset, with the way he had just made you feel that would be impossible. Still, you felt like keeping up this act for a little longer. You flipped over to face Chad.

“And you! You just went along with it! What, do I just not get any respect around here?”

Chad smiled, kissing your cheek. “Oh come on. You were practically asking for it. You know how impatient Ethan gets. He can only take so much of your teasing before he snaps and flips you over.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless. You turned to lay on your back, Chad and Ethan cuddling up to you. You were always the big spoon, even when you weren’t in charge during your little excursions. You held them close, the warm blanket enveloping the three of you. You smiled to yourself, overwhelmed with happiness and love for your boyfriends. Slowly, you drifted off to sleep, excited to wake up and start the next day with the loves of your life. 

Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious

I just can't get enough of you

The pedal's down, my eyes are closed, no control

tags: @wenvierismycomfort @hyeyulove @afro-hispwriter

if your user is crossed out, it means i can't tag you!

[remussl0vers]

requesting guide

updated: 17.06.23

please make sure to read this before requesting anything — i'm hoping that you'll respect my boundaries on what am i comfortable with and with not writing.

MASTERLIST

I tend to curse often in my fics, and are usually comfortable with covering more serious topics, so make sure to check the content warning before hand. I always write warnings when I believe they're needed, but do let me know if you think something should be added!

also senders may request as many as they want <3

FORMS OF WRITING :

oneshot

imagine

headcanon

series

alphabet

I tend to write oneshots over 1000 words, so if you want feel free to specify if you want a long or short story.

CONTENT I WRITE :

fluff

angst

sensitive / triggering topics

gore

smut / spice

most tropes ( best at friends to lovers )

I'm pretty comfortable with writing sensitive topics as well as angst ( anyone who's read my works before will know that they're the things I write best ) however, if I'm not comfortable with the topic as a whole I will DM you, or possibly put it off for a while.

*If you have a writing prompt from somewhere as well, feel free to send it through !!

CHARACTERS :

male reader / ftm

gender neutral

genderfluid

original character

I do not write female readers / characters anymore. If there aren't specified pronouns then I will write it as a male character.

There are also some characters I only feel comfortable writing for with a male reader/character and vice versa, which I'll note who.

PAIRINGS :

love interests

platonic

family

polyamorous ships ; depends on the character

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE :

support of homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, racism, sexism, pedophilia, incest ; if they're mentioned in a request in terms of the character being bullied / abused ( in the past ) then i may write it but NOT explicitly, only a mention

a pairing against a character's canon sexuality

rape

pregnancy

female reader

anime

WHO I WRITE FOR :

DEAD BOY DETECTIVES :

charles rowland

edwin payne

monty

niko sasaki ( not romantic )

crystal palace ( not romantic )

DESCENDANTS :

ben beast

harry hook

carlos de vil

jay

mal bertha

evie grimhilde

LOCKWOOD & CO :

anthony lockwood

lucy carlyle

george karim

quill kipps ( friends / family only )

MARAUDERS :

remus lupin

sirius black

regulus black

james potter

lily evans ( not romantic )

evan rosier

barty crouch jr

marlene mckinnon ( not romantic )

dorcas meadows ( not romantic )

pandora lovegood ( not romantic )

mary mcdonald ( not romantic )

MARVEL :

peter parker / spiderman ( tom and andrew )

loki laufeyson

kate bishop

yelena belova ( not romantic )

steve rogers

bucky barnes

pietro maximoff

wanda maximoff

valkyrie ( not romantic )

natasha romanoff

tony stark ( not romantic )

gwen stacy ( emma stone )

gwen stacy ( atsv )

*marvel and particularly the mcu is a fandom i'm more comfortable with than most, so if there is a character not listed, then i may or may not write for them

NARNIA :

prince caspian

peter pevensie

edmund pevensie ( only during dawn treader )

SHADOW AND BONE / SIX OF CROWS :

kaz brekker

inej ghafa

jesper fahey

wylan van eck

nina zenik

alina starkov

nikolai lantsov

genya safin ( not romantic )

matthias helvar

STRANGER THINGS :

steve harrington

jonathon byers

max mayfield

robin buckley ( not romantic )

TEEN WOLF :

stiles stilinski ( *i will take most/all dylan obrien characters )

isaac lahey

scott mccall

liam dunbar ( not romantic )

allison argent

malia tate

lydia martin ( not romantic )

kira yukimura

derek hale

THE HUNGER GAMES :

finnick odair

peeta mellark

katniss everdeen

THE MAZE RUNNER :

newt

thomas

minho

X-MEN :

logan howlett

charles xavier ( james mcavoy )

jean grey

mystique

rogue

erik lehnsherr ( not romantic )

wade wilson / deadpool

kitty pryde

bobby drake

*FANDOMS COMING SOON : PJO, DISNEY, HANNIBAL

[dxwnfxll]

Elder scrolls fandom I have returned

And I wanna write fics again !!! Huzzah!

I wanna write fics for characters that don't really have a lot of X readers lolz

As always the Reader will be gender neutral (unless someone sends me an ask for a specific character and gender lolz also yes asks are open!!)

For the Dagoth brothers I'll be using my own Hcs and ideas on them lolz I don't have refs of them (yet) but I do have this little chart with their faces lolz