#wednesay x reader

[mushroom-words]

Walk the Wire, Take It Higher || Tyler Galpin

Fandom: Wednesday Pairings: Tyler Galpin x Fem!Reader Words: 1365 Note: This has been rewritten and reposted from a previous blog. Warnings: Dubious consent. Teacher/student. Tyler is of legal age. Dirty talk. Slight degradation. Possessive behavior. Unprotected. Creampie. Spanking. Summary: Tyler has grown attached to his teacher and is willing to do whatever it takes to have her.

TYLER HAD NEVER put much effort into studying. He wasn’t a bad student—he just lacked the focus to go over the material as needed. This was especially true for your class where you graded everything on a curve and were more lenient than most of your colleagues. You tried to balance the curriculum and the reasonable needs of your students by holding study sessions a couple days a week. It let you help your students review the material in between learning new topics.

        Maybe you had a soft spot for Sheriff Galpin’s son. He rarely made waves even if his attention seemed to wander frequently or he seemed too exhausted to pay attention. You’d discussed your concerns with his father, and after careful deliberation, Tyler had joined the small study group you often hosted after classes had ended for the day.

        You knew Tyler had taken a liking to you. You’d caught him sneaking glances at your body when he was supposed to be doing his work. But he was a teenage boy with raging hormones. And it wasn’t like he was the only one you’d seen checking out the female professors. It was normal for their age.

        What you didn’t realize was that it was more than that for Tyler. The sheriff’s son loved your attention—how you spent extra time helping him go over the lessons, how sweet you smelled when you leaned over his desk. When you doted on him, it made him feel like he mattered. Like you truly cared for him. It angered him to see you delivering the same attention to another student. You were just doing your job, but didn’t you like him more than his peers? Didn’t you want to make him feel special?

        Didn’t you love him like he loved you?

        That anger only festered the longer it stewed until it boiled over into a red-hot rage. Tyler paced the woods adjacent to Nevermore, wearing a hazardous path through the fallen leaves. Kicking rocks and branches out of his way. Strings of curses spewed from his mouth as he pictured you in his mind, relieved the fucking betrayal of your smile as you bent over Thorpe’s desk.

        A breeze swept through the trees as though to cool the heat coursing through him. His heightened sense of smell caught a whiff of your scent as the wind carried it his way. Your perfume hung heavily in the air, tinged with something that called to the Hyde within. Fuck. It was that heady aroma which would torment him every couple of weeks. The scent of a bitch in heat.

        The hunt ended as abruptly as it had started. You’d paused by a particularly gnarled tree trunk to snap a couple of photos of the blooming flora. Marilyn’s birthday was coming up, and you were working on a photo album to make her feel more welcome in the institution. The school day had ended hours ago, and you had exchanged your professional outfit for a more casual one better suited for wandering around outside. All Tyler could think about was how it would look better off of you.

        You were oblivious to his presence up until he had you pinned against the large tree. Your camera fell to the ground as his hand encircled your throat. His pupils had blown away the golden brown of his eyes, and instead of the innocent expression you’d come to know, there was a hard darkness that should have scared you. 

        Your body’s reaction to him now was highly inappropriate, and he knew it. He could smell it on you, could feel how your thighs clenched against the wetness between them. His fingers dove between your folds to feel your slick coat his skin.

        You gasped out his name with every intention of stopping him. He was of legal age, but he was your student—your license could be revoked for such inappropriate behavior. His lips came down to silence your protests. He withdrew his fingers from between your legs, and you whimpered into his mouth at the loss.

        “You can deny it all you want, Professor (Y/L/N),” he growled against your lips, his breath fanning over your face in a hot whisper, “but you’re fucking dripping for me. You want my cock, don’t you?”

        He was already tugging down his zipper. He knew you wanted it. Even if you didn’t, he wasn’t about to let you go now that he had you. He was going to show you exactly why he was your favorite student.

        You groaned against the feel of his body against yours. “Tyler,” you panted. “We can’t.”

        “We are.” Tyler ripped your bottoms away with a strength you didn’t know he possessed and slid his cock along your slit. You bit back a moan as he rubbed perfectly against your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you threw your head back against the tree as your hips chased after him. Fuck, he felt so good already.

        He rocked his hips into you a few times before he lifted you by the backs of your thighs. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and he bottomed out inside of you in a single thrust. The animalistic growl that erupted from his chest made you shudder. The Hyde flooded his mind as your pussy hugged his cock and took what little was left of the reigns.

        Your back slammed against the tree as he fucked you into it with ruthless abandon. All senses left you until the only thing you knew was how well he filled you—how roughly he fucked you, how perfectly his cock stretched you. You bit your lip so hard that the tang of blood teased your tongue, struggling to keep quiet so you wouldn’t be caught fucking your student in the middle of the woods.

        Tyler sank his teeth into the soft flesh where your neck and shoulder conjoined. The abrasive bark scraped your back with every thrust. His blunt nails dug into your ass and left crescent bruises in their wake.

        He completely surrounded you.

        “Such a naughty girl,” he moaned into your ear. “I’m going to fill you up with my cum, and you’re going to take it. Take all of me like a dirty little whore.”

        You clawed at his back for something tangible to keep yourself grounded. Your cunt clenched around him like the greedy slut he was making you into, eager for him to fulfill his promise and fill you up with his seed. After what felt like an eternity of him fucking you up against the tree, he suddenly pulled out and dropped your legs. You whined in protest, but then he was shoving you to the ground, silencing your cries once more. He jerked you around until you were on your hands and knees.

        Tyler slammed his dick back inside of you without a second of hesitation. The new position helped him fuck into you faster, sending you both soaring to new heights of pleasure. He fisted a hand into your hair and pinned your cheek to the leaves and dirt, kneeling on one knee for better leverage.

        “Oh my God,” you whimpered, too consumed by passion to worry about keeping quiet—your skin slapping together wetly echoing in your ears. “Tyler—fuck—please don’t stop!”

        He smacked your ass hard in quick succession. You slipped your arm beneath your body and placed your fingers at your throbbing clit. Your toes curled in your shoes as only a few messy circles had your orgasm tearing through you. You vaguely registered the animalistic sounds coming from behind you as Tyler slammed into you and stilled, his pelvis flush with your ass as he came inside of you.

        The fog lifted from his mind as he came down from his high. Tyler cursed quietly and pulled out of you, admiring for a second how his cum dripped from your battered cunt. He fixed himself quickly before stroking your hair and helping you to your feet.

        “Did I hurt you?” he asked quietly, watching how you winced when you moved. He grabbed your face gently in his hands and kissed your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[normal-person-i-promise]

hushed affirmations and gentle caresses

arataka reigen x female reader

no tws :] just a bunch of fluff and kissing

first chapter here, though its not needed to understand this one :> it makes more sense though

Though his head hurts and his heart is beating so fast it threatens to burst, he still leans on the doorway, grinning so smugly you would've assumed you were the one hungover.

He calls your name in a smooth voice, one laced with confidence. "So we're dating now? Like, boyfriend-girlfriend type stuff?"

★ ★ ★

You wake up a little earlier than Arataka does. It's about... 10, 10 in the morning, when you awaken to see he hasn't woken up yet. The city outside your bedroom window is alive with the weekend chatter and the excited footsteps that come with it, though it's barely audible; you're too busy focusing on Arataka's slow, steady breathing as his chest rises and falls, studying the way his eyes would flutter as he shifts, trying to get comfortable...

You're still nestled comfortably in his arms, that familiar scent of his sharp cologne and the soft cotton of his white dress shirt bringing a sense of peace and comfort to you. He's warm, his arms wrapped around you almost protectively, your head resting on his chest as you lay on top of him — he's like the cutest, most comfortable pillow you've ever slept on.

And he's going to have the worst hangover.

You lay there quietly in Arataka's warm embrace, just... Staring up at his calm face, his kissable lips set in a slight smile, his eyes shut tightly as he dreams. His golden hair is disheveled, his bangs out of place and in a halo on the pillow.

He's so... Cute, god...

You find your hand on his face: tracing his jaw, feeling the sockets of his eyes and running your fingers through his hair, cradling his cheek and running a thumb across his lower lip — you're almost playing with him, like a child with a new doll, toying with and pulling whatever you can. It's hard to resist, after all; he's too cute not to touch.

Arataka doesn't awaken, thankfully.

You free your other arm from his embrace and now bring both your hands up to his face, a mischievous grin plastered on yours as your gentle hands settle on him. Pinching his cheeks, squishing and pulling them like a grandmother with her grandchild, you coo and fawn, mumbling and murmuring about how absolutely adorable he is. You run your hands through his messy hair, adjust his soft, white dress shirt, fidget with the digits of his fingers.

It's only a second later when Arataka stirs and you panic to rapidly remove your hands from his face. He shifts you in his arms, his eyes fluttering open slowly, slowly, taking a moment to focus before they find yours. He seems to short circuit as he stare at you in confusion, before—

"EH?!"

He pushes you off him quickly, scrambling to put some distance in between the two of you. He stares at you, shaken, before the events of the night come rushing back to him — it causes his face to flush a bright, bright red for just a moment before he hides his face in his hands.

Arataka grumbles and groans in embarrassment, and you can't help but find it absolutely adorable.

You were so... Warm, in his arms, it felt so... So right, like you were supposed to be there, and, oh— last night, your touch? Your sweet, sweet hands caressing his face so, so lovingly? And, god, your voice, your voice when you asked him if he was okay? The kiss—?!

He bends over on himself in the purest form of embarrassment you've ever seen, muttering and mumbling words laced with regret.

He can't help but... Miss you, though. Miss how nice it felt with you in his arms.

The whole time all these thoughts are racing through his groggy mind, you're staring at him with a mixture of concern and amusement, not sure whether to comfort him or tease him about it.

A splitting headache begins to pound at Arataka's head, an extreme fatigue forming in his muscles and limbs, and a sharp pang of regret starting to stab him in the pit of his stomach. A hangover, and regret.

"God, I messed up..." He mutters bitterly into his hands, low under his breath so that you won't hear. You hear it anyway, though.

"I warned you you'd regret it," you say to him, the smug grin you have plastered on your face audible in your voice, making Arataka grumble even louder. He stays quiet other than that, though.

Your grin widens when you don't hear a reply from him, deciding to see just how red you can get his cheeks.

You lean in close, just enough for your warm breath to ghost over his hands pressed tight to his flushed face. "And who was the one nodding his head when I asked whether he was sure?"

You let a beat of silence pass, before, with a voice laced heavily with a smug grin,

"You, was it?"

You stay quiet for a moment to see his reaction, feeling a surge of pride when you see Arataka's shoulders stiffen as he grumbles louder.

More memories, along with more opportunities to tease him, come to mind.

"And who, pray tell, was the one who asked to sleep in my flat?"

You tilt your head to the side, cradling your chin like a great philosopher pondering a deep question. Your eyes roam around the room for just a moment before they land on Arataka again — and he's aware of how your gaze traces his face, running up and down in an almost fascinated daze. You still manage to keep your tone teasing, though.

"Because it certainly wasn't me."

Arataka makes muffled sobbing noise, almost in pain as you watch the red from his cheeks spill over to his ears and neck.

God, you're so... Annoying, especially when you talk like that, reminding him of all the things he did when he was drunk last night...

He— he was drunk, okay?! He wasn't thinking straight! It doesn't matter how long he's wanted to kiss you, he—!

"Stop... Talking..." Arataka groans through gritted teeth, his tone begging and his voice thick with regret.

You arch a teasing brow at him.

"Oh? And why is that?"

You lean in even closer, reaching your hands up to his wrists and wrapping your fingers around them, trying to pry his hands off his face to get a better look at his flushed cheeks. You manage to get them off, holding them near his cheeks.

"Embarrassed, are we?"

Arataka's eyes are wide with fear as he stares at you, his breathing quick and shallow, his face redder than the colour itself. Your eyes fall down to his lips, and his cheeks seem to flush even more, impossible as it is.

His mind is still reeling from the clumsy kiss from the night before — you'd tasted just like the cola you'd drank, your lips cold from the ice and your hands cooling on his hot skin. It felt so... Good, but, god...

Steam almost spouts from his ears as his mind overheats. His expression is overwhelmed as he stares at you with the reddest face you've ever seen on someone, his mouth slightly agape.

Arataka clears his throat, casting his gaze to the side as he struggles to get his hands out of your grasp. You let one hand go, bringing the other into both your hands and beginning to fidget with the fingers.

"Don't... Tell anyone, please," he almost begs in a whisper, his breathing growing shallow as you run a hand up and down his arm, fidgeting with him — bored with nothing to do with your hands. He likes when you touch him. He likes your warm, warm hands on his skin. He likes how you're so comfortable with just... Fidgeting with him like some toy.

Don't stop, please.

"Aww, okay," you say in disappointment, cracking each of Arataka's knuckles with a satisfying 'click!'. He lets you, watching as your hands move from one finger to another, almost mesmerized.

He lets out a sigh of relief at your words, just as you take his other hand and beginning to crack the knuckles on that one, too.

Though he won't ever admit it to you, he likes it. He likes how you handle him just like a little girl with a new doll, he likes how you so lovingly press your lips to his knuckles, he likes how gentle your fingers are as you run them across his cheeks and over his features — it makes his mind go haywire and his heart beat wildly in his chest.

He likes you. He likes you a lot, a lot more than he thinks he does.

You let go off his hands, getting up and off the bed. You stretch, your back popping.

"Hey, Arataka," you ask, your gaze growing worried. You reach a hand out to smooth his golden hair down, trying to make it neater — you're aware of the horrible hangover he's probably having right now.

He hums in response, closing his eyes in contentment.

"I'll go get you some painkillers for your hangover, yeah? Make you some soup and toasted bread?"

He leans into your touch as you cradle his cheek, a low, contented hum vibrating his chest. His eyes are closed tightly, and he startles when you remove your hands and he loses your touch, his eyes snapping open.

"Oh, u-uh, what? Yes, alright, mm-hmm, okay!" Arataka says quickly, embarrassed.

When you get there, Arataka is waiting for you, his cheeks flushing when he sees you again. Every time he lays eyes upon you, the events of last night come rushing up to him...

You prepare his food quickly — it's just a cup of warm tea and a can of boxed soup. You toast some buttered bread as the water boils, and when it's done, you bring the bowl of soup, the plate of toast, and the cup of tea to the bedside table.

He takes the bowl and toast, dipping the bread and biting a piece off with a loud 'crunch!" and swallowing loud enough to get you to know that he's enjoying it. You watch him; you'd prepared a simple breakfast of your favourite flavoured spread on plain, untoasted bread for yourself, and you munch on it as Arataka downs the tea greedily, chugging the soup and stuffing the bread down his throat.

He loves you, he supposes, though he's never loved someone before.

You'd made something for him. You, who's always kind and understanding with him; you, who always jokes with him; you, who he loves with all his heart, had made something for him, no matter how small. Him, Arataka, of all people, was the one you chose to love.

He can't even begin to explain just how much he appreciates you — his words would become nothing more than a mumbly jumble, his manners dissolving into a flustered mess.

"Anything else I can get you?" You offer politely and so, so lovingly, just as Arataka is swallowing the painkillers.

He grins.

"You can get me a kiss, but I—"

You cut him off before he gets to finish, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him towards you. He's taken aback by your directness, his eyes going wide and his body stiffening — though it's not long before he's returning the kiss, closing his eyes tightly and leaning into it.

Pressing your lips gently to his, you run a careful hand through his hair, caressing his cheek with a loving touch. You can feel the crumbs of the toast and the warm taste of the tea and soup on his lips.

He tastes... Comforting, you suppose. A familiar flavour, that scent of the mouth of someone who's just woken up, the warm taste of freshly toasted bread, the salty flavour of the powdered soup. He tastes nice.

You're careful not to make the kiss last too long, in case he loses his breath; and you're taking care to make sure your touch isn't too painful on his head, lest his headache return.

When you break the kiss, Arataka is nothing more than a mess of mumbly words and flushed cheeks, his hands shaky and his eyes wide. He's so, so cute, in the way that he'd struggle to form proper sentences, the manner in which he'd clumsily try to keep you close.

His heart is beating wildly in his chest, those familiar butterflies in his stomach making his head spin and his vision swim. You kissed him again, you kissed him again! Oh, god, you kissed him...

Arataka gives you lopsided grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm like he'd just eaten.

"That will suffice," he says with utmost confidence.

Just in case, of course, you kiss him again. He seems to be getting the hang of it — he tilts his head to press his lips more onto yours, keeps a hand to the back of your head to elongate the kiss, runs a hand up and down your spine.

When you break the kiss, you wrap your arms tightly around him, squeezing his ribcage so hard it elicits an absolutely adorable yelp of surprise from him, followed by rushed words to loosen your grip.

You're laying on top of him as you crush his torso under yours, your head resting below his shoulder.

You've noticed he's gotten a lot more confident: he can form proper sentences and talk without mumbling, his movements aren't as shaky and uncontrollable, and his kisses are getting better with each time he practices on you.

Arataka wraps his arms around you as you get settled on him, resting his chin on the top of your head. You're so... Comforting, so warm and soft... You're nice to have in his arms, and he finds himself adjusting you do that you're as pressed up against him as he can possibly get it.

You can hear his gentle snoring after ten minutes or so. You wake him up, saying you're going to go shower for a moment as you slip out of his groggy grasp.

You shower as quickly as you can, changing into your most comfortable pair of home clothes. The soft cotton hands loosely off your frame when you enter your bedroom, leaning on the doorframe as you bundle your dirty clothes and throw it into the laundry basket.

Your eyes fall to Arataka as he stares at you.

"Uh, right, I... Got this. Here."

You rummage through your cupboards. It's only a moment later when you take out a pair of folded clothes, slowly placing it next to where Arataka sits comfortably in your bed, lounging like he belongs there. Which he doesn't does, of course.

"These should... These should fit you," you say awkwardly, clearing your throat.

He likes it. He likes you. He loves you.

Arataka, too, showers, though he takes a lot longer. He's wearing your clothes (not that he has a choice, but not that he minds), and, god, he... He loves the fact that what he's wearing now, you've worn before — the cotton of the shirt worn from years of usage, the pants you lended him warm against his skin — and it smells just like you; a warm, soft scent as he slips the clothing on, feeling the old threads cascading down from his shoulders and hanging loosely around his frame.

He finds it... Cozy, and... And sweet, the smell of the laundry detergent and that warmness of the sun. It's so, very, very... Comforting? It's comforting, to him.

Though his head hurts and his heart is beating so fast it threatens to burst, he still leans on the doorway, grinning so smugly you would've assumed you were the one hungover.

He calls your name in a smooth voice, one laced with confidence. "So we're dating now? Like, boyfriend-girlfriend type stuff?"

You're scrolling on your phone when he asks you that question, and you switch it off. Seeing Arataka wearing your clothes makes you feel... Nice. He doesn't seem to be arguing about it, at least.

You shrug, a thin smile on your face.

"Must be weird, huh? Finally getting a girl after being single your whole life?"

You narrow your eyes at him as he sputters, your grin widening as his cheeks flush.

He presses a hand tightly to his mouth, gripping the doorframe as his knees almost seem to buckle. The red from his cheeks is visible even through his fingers.

"You're going— to KILL me," he chokes out, his tone laced with embarrassment.

"AND, FOR THE RECORD—!"

Arataka jabs an accusing finger in your face, and you watch on, amused, as he talks in such a panicked tone that you find it hard to understand more than the first few words. He's shouting, yelling.

"ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS AREN'T EVERTHING IN LIFE! TO NOT HAVE A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP IS THE SAME AS NOT HAVING A GOOD MEAL! YOU CAN SURVIVE WITHOUT IT JUST FINE, BUT IT WOULD BE NICE IF YOU HAD ONE!"

He scoffs in disappointment, crossing his arms, his tone almost annoyed — though that undertone of endearment is definitely there.

"I'm surprised you haven't learnt anything from working under me."

You roll your eyes.

"You can just say you're bitter about being single. It won't hurt you."

Arataka sputters again, opening his mouth to argue — but closes it quickly, realising that he's just making himself look worse. Instead, he crosses his arms tightly and grumbles, which an adorable display despite his agitation.

You grin, getting up and off the bed to ruffle his hair. He pushes your hand off, annoyance written on his face.

[cozwaenot]

Wednesday x Royalty!Sorceress Reader

-

Y/N: I have something to say to you .

Wednesday: is this about the love potion?

Y/N: No --- , hm .. Yes

Wednesay: That mere love potion of yours is useless Cara mia .

Y/N: wait what?

Wednesday: For a straight A student , it seems you're slow Mi amor.

*Whispers*

Wednesday: Your little spell book says , that the love potion won't work if the person is already inlove with you, and I love you from the moment I laid my eyes on you Cara Mia.

Y/N: *Falls inlove more*

-

-

omfg! itssss beeeen ages since I posted something . The last few months was hectic istg 😭 but finally , was able to escape that hell hole with a fcking Bachelors Degree , Yessss!!

[the-fangirl-from-hell]

The Real Reason Xavier Can’t Sleep

here is part 1

pairing: Xavier Thorpe x reader, really angsty Tyler Galpin x reader if you like that

summary: in which Xavier has visions about you and can’t get you out of his head, this sparks arguments with your boyfriend.

warning: Tyler and reader are in a toxic relationship, nsfw content, swearing- lots of it, insomnia

tags: more pining, all the tags from part 1, slight smut

word count: 4.5K

au where Rowan never died and is still with the Nightshades cause the character has potential and the writers wasted it

you can asks in the notes if you wanna be tagged in part 3, it’s coming soon

Xavier could feel (Y/N)’s hands running through his hair, scratching at his scalp as a cold shiver run through his body. He could feel her hot skin pressed flush against his.

As she was lying on her back in the bed, eyes half closed and arms crossed around her chest to hide it Xavier wanted to tell her how beautiful she was. How there was no reason to be embarrassed because he loved every part of her body. How much he wanted to worship every inch of her for the rest of the night. But he stayed silent. Like something heavy in his chest was preventing him from talking.

His hands instinctively found hers, gently pinning them against the bed sheets, exposing her chest to him. He wasn’t really in control of himself, feeling almost like a remote control puppet.

Xavier held his breath as he pushed himself inside of her, whimpering at the familiar sensation of her hot walls clenching around him. Like they’re done this a thousand times.

“Tyler, take it slow for me baby,” the girl winced.

Not again.

The clock read 01:30. Xavier woke up in his room, shirtless and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Fucking hell,” he murmured under his breath, careful not to wake up his roommate.

Between the vision he had of a mysterious creature and this weird psychic link he had with Tyler Galpin of all people, he couldn’t remember the last full night of sleep he had in the past few months.

He knew they weren’t dreams. He was sure because of that one time he was out with his friends in the town, they were mostly window shopping then suddenly he was in the Weathervane, making out with (Y/N) at the back of the shop. Shaky hands grabbing at each other’s clothes, desperately trying to peel them off, needy mouths crashing against each other. Then the girl’s mouth started going lower and lower along his jaw to his neck. She gave him a gentle bite, probing him then she sunk her teeth in that one spot that made his knees weak. He started grinding against her desperate for some form of release, mind foggy with lust. Then he was back on the street with his friends surrounding him and looking extremely worried.

Xavier has had visions like this one in the past usually at night, waking him up from his slumber. He tried to write them off as some sort of weird wet dream of this girl he had a crush on.

But this time it was different. He was awake, it was the middle of the day. And as they were walking through the center of the town, he saw the girl who has been plaguing his mind leaving the café looking disheveled and flushed. And then he saw her boyfriend lean in to give her a kiss goodbye, the hickey she just left on him still visible. Xavier ran a hand over the base of his neck where he could still feel the ghost of her teeth like it happened to him. But it was Tyler. He was Tyler for a few moments; he saw the world through his eyes.

There was no going back to sleep no matter how hard Xavier tried tossing and turning. The bed was too hard, the sheets were too scratchy, and the cover was too warm.

He sneaked outside through a window and went to the shed he’s been working on restoring. Weems said if he did a good job she’d let him use it as an art studio. Since he’s having trouble sleeping he’s been going there more and more often. He even got a small mattress in the corner, covered in a sage green sheet. He liked that color a lot.

Xavier’s biggest problem was that his connection to Tyler seemed to activate whenever he was having strong emotions like when he was having sex with his girlfriend in the middle of the night. But not only that. He also saw them going on dates and having late-night chats about their lives and dreams. Xavier hated himself but he ended up falling in love with this woman he barely knew.

Without really having a plan in mind he grabbed a clean canvas and started painting her. The curvature of her neck, the valley of her breasts, the plumpness of her lips.

“I’m just doing this to get it out of my system,” he excused himself to no one in particular.

He felt dirty drawing the naked figure of someone who never undressed in front of him, who never gave him permission to, who probably barely remembers him.

Ever since that day when she drove him back to school and he snapped at her, they haven’t spoken much. They acknowledge each other on the street when they pass by one another, they exchange polite smiles and waves from a distance, sometimes a courteous ‘hi’ and ‘how are you’ followed by ‘nothing much, you?’ and a shrug. The conversations never last as much as Xavier wishes they did. He even tried apologizing for the way he acted the last time they talked but she just brushed it off as if it was nothing.

Xavier lost count of the hours he spent perfecting the painting he made, but it was light outside by the time Bianca opened the door and let herself in.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are we still going to the Fair?”

 “Morning, sleeping beauty!” Bianca cheered sarcastically. “You’ve been drooling on my shoulder.”

Xavier assessed the situation. He was in the car with the Nightshades. Rowan was driving. Bianca was right next to him in the backseat, mushed between him and Ajax.

“Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well recently,” he excused himself and then lowered his voice so that only Bianca could hear it. “You know, you could help me with that.”

“For the last fucking time, Xavier, I’m not using my siren song on you. Ask again and I’ll never speak to you.”

“Please, I’m going insane, you have to help me!”

“You guys don’t have to whisper,” Rowan chimed from behind the wheel. “We know about Xavier’s obsession with the normie girl.”

“Not as obsessed as you are with Wednesday!”

The car shook violently as Rowan parked it with a little too much force next to the forest that lead to Nevermore. A howl was heard in the distance as the group walked out of the car still arguing. They had to speak louder to cover the music and everyone else at the Fair talking.

“My mom had a vision about her, you know that. I have to figure out what it meant.”

“Well, I have visions, too. And I need them to stop.”

He even told his therapist about this girl (sparing her some of the raunchier details) and started taking medication that’s supposed to suppress his visions. They haven’t been very effective. At this point he was so desperate he was willing to ask his dad for help.

“Was it her you were painting the other morning?” Bianca asked after the rest of the group was far enough for them not to hear.

Xavier was really hoping Bianca didn’t see his drawing when she came by his shed. It was too embarrassing to explain himself and anything he’d say tasted like a lie on his lips.

It’s just a painting, it doesn’t mean anything.

I draw naked people all the time.

I just wanted to get it out of my system.

Bullshit.

“You really need to talk this out with her. Maybe she knows something about why you’re having these visions.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin-“

“You’ll think of something.”

Bianca gave a wide smile and a dramatic wave to someone to their right and Xavier turned in that direction. (Y/N) was leaning on her arm next to an archery booth looking around as if she was waiting for someone. When her eyes landed on the two of them she gave them a salute.

“It’s not polite to let her wait for you. You’ve got this.”

Bianca gave her friend a little shove in the right direction and he stumbled. The girl of his dreams (visions?) wasn’t far away and he was headed right in her direction whether he wanted to or not. Xavier tried to fight the stupid smile that was spreading across his face as he was approaching her. He lost.

“Haven’t seen you in a long time,” the girl observed.

“Yeah, I haven’t gone out in the town lately.”

The girl furrowed her brows with concern as she leaned in, giving Xavier a closer inspection. It made him inhale a sharp breath. She smelled like cotton candy and the earth after it rained. He closed his eyes for just a second, enjoying her smell and her presence. When he opened them again, the girl was still studying him so carefully, the same way you may study a puzzle you're trying to solve.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

Did she know? Could she tell that she was the reason he hasn’t slept a wink last night? Or barely at all for the past month? Could she read his mind?

He was becoming paranoid.

“I look that bad, huh?”

A shy smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Not at all. Just tired. I could make you a tea for insomnia, it does wonders.”

There she goes again. No one in Xavier’s life treats him like this. Like he deserves to be fawned over, protected, taken care of. He was always the strong one in his family, the emotional pillar for his parents, the one his mom would go to for advice or when she needed a shoulder to cry on. All of his girlfriends and even his friends say he’s a good listener, that it’s easy to open up to him but very rarely do they ask about his feelings. And no one tries to make it better the way (Y/N) does.

It’s like she’s the only one who sees how broken he is and knows how to fix him.

“I’ve been taking some meds, they haven’t kicked in yet. But thanks anyway, it’s nice that you offered.”

“It can’t hurt to try. Come by the Weathervane on Monday? I work there now. I’ll make you a tea free of charge,” she points her last words on his shoulder.

Xavier grabs at his shoulder and makes a grimace as if it hurt, but really it didn’t. He just likes the way the girl looks at him when she worries about him.

“Wouldn’t that get you in trouble?”

“I like trouble,” she winks. “Usually my dashing smile and smooth talking get me out of pretty much anything. I got the boss wrapped around my finger.”

He could see that. She was hard to stay mad at. Hard to say no to. If there was someone who could get away with murder simply by being charming it would be her.

“I didn’t mean with your boss.”

Xavier regretted his words almost instantly. The change on the girl's face was almost imperceptible. He might have missed it if he wasn’t paying close attention to her. The amused spark in her eyes, the one he was so enamored with, died. It made him shiver.

He shouldn't have brought it up.

“Tyler doesn’t have to know. Plus, he has nothing to hold against you. He’s the one in the wrong. By the way, I’m still sorry for what happened that day. I can’t help but feel guilty, like if I hadn’t talked to you none of it would’ve happened.”

Xavier couldn’t imagine a world where he didn’t know (Y/N). He didn’t even want to think of a different universe where he was so engrossed in his work he didn’t notice the girl with stars in her eyes preparing her concert, didn’t hear her playing. A world where they both pass right by each other like ships in the night, neither ever truly seeing the other. What a nightmare.

Sure, slowly falling in love with her through another man’s eyes hurt. But never knowing her would be worse.

But he couldn’t say that, could he?

“You couldn’t have known. And if anything, I should be apologizing, I came to you first... to move the piano.”

And he’d do it again, a thousand times.

“Right,” the girl smiled wistfully as if reliving a happy memory. “Thanks again for that.”

“By the way, are you still playing on this year’s Outreach day?”

She shook her head in disappointment.

“No, this Nevermore girl– Wednesday, she’s playing a cello solo this year. She’s new and struggling to fit in, at least it’s what the mayor told me.”

“It’s a shame. I was looking forward to listening to you again. You really have a gift.”

The girl looked down bashfully and Xavier felt a rush of pride. It was usually her who made him blush. He almost wanted to gently grab her chin and make her look up at him. He’s gotten even taller than he was when they met. He wondered if she noticed that.

He leaned back into the archery booth that was behind him, trying to look casual. He realized he’s been beating around the bush and completely forgot why he was there talking to her in the first place. How was he going to break this to her lightly?

“You know how I said I was a seer, right?”

The girl nodded diligently.

“Yes, like your father.”

Xavier tried not to make a face at the mention of his father. They weren’t exactly on the best of terms. He gulped, doing his best to pick the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Tyler,” the girl chimed suddenly.

Xavier’s blood ran cold at the sight of Tyler coming towards them holding a water bottle that he handed to his girlfriend. He then gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Do you mind?” he asked Xavier tauntingly. “We’re on a date.” He then turned around to his girlfriend. “Do you want me to win something for you babe?”

Xavier crossed his arms trying to look unbothered although the sight in front of him hurt more than a hundred needles poking his heart at once. It was different seeing them together like this than when he had the visions. In those Tyler wasn’t really visible, since he was seeing everything through his eyes. In those visions, he could pretend he was the one (Y/N) was kissing.

Tyler went to pay the guy behind the counter at the archery booth some money and the guy handed him a plastic bow and arrow and explained to him how to win. Xavier couldn’t help but snicker watching Tyler fail miserably at the game. There was something vindictive about the sight.

“Shut up! What are you doing here anyway?” he asked annoyed. “Don’t you have some kinda restraining order against me?”

He shot his target and missed again. His hands were gripping the object so tightly his knuckles turned white.

I could easily win a toy for her, Xavier thought.

Actually, he just might.

“As long as you can be civil for one night, I’m not gonna go to the police.”

Xavier tried to remain calm and composed in order to not betray how much his heart was beating in his chest. He wasn’t even sure if the cause was the beautiful girl standing close to him or the stress of facing his attacker for the first time in almost a year. He wasn’t afraid of Tyler, per se, but he made him uneasy. Like the feeling you get when you watch a horror movie and foreboding music starts playing.

Without breaking eye contact with Tyler Xavier threw some money on the counter and reached his hand out towards him waiting to be handed the bow. Tyler pushed it in his hands a little more forceful than needed.

“I’m not gonna hide from you forever, dude. Until I finish school, we have to share this town. Get used to it.”

Xavier moved his attention to the target and shot his first arrow. He needed to hit the bull three times to get the big frog plushy the girl seemed to be eyeing that night. He could do it.

“It’s not the town I have a problem sharing,” Tyler muttered.

Xavier told himself to relax before releasing the arrow and hitting his target perfectly. Bull’s eye. Two more.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You just love playing stupid, huh Thorpe? I’m not blind, I know what you’re after,” he leaned towards Xavier so close he could see his freckles. “At least you healed surprisingly well, I was sure my shoe was gonna leave a scar on your forehead. I was going to make you the next Harry Potter.”

“Maybe you’re not as strong as you think you are,” Xavier commented, his eyes still on the target.

“Cut it out, both of you!”

Xavier could hear the anger and fear in (Y/N)'s voice and he hated himself for being partially the cause of that. What made him feel even more guilty was how his body reacted to hearing her enraged and commanding voice. It reminded him of a dream - or a vision? he wasn't sure - he had not so long ago. In which she was yelling at him for something he'd done that upset her and somehow in the middle of the argument her hands took a hold of his hair and pulled his face close to hers. She started kissing him feverishly.

He visibly gulped as he tried to suppress the memory. He almost lost focus, but he still managed to hit the target. Not dead center, but close enough to still get the prize. One more.

It seemed Tyler noticed the effect his girlfriend had on the tall boy he hated so much. He tried to bite down a smirk.

“You’re right babe, I’m sorry,” he said turning towards his girlfriend, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “Did I tell you how sexy you look in that dress? Are you wearing it all for me?”

He didn’t need to say it as loud as he did, but Xavier knew it was intentional, to make him lose concentration. And it worked. For a fraction of a second, his eyes slid from his target to (Y/N) and the pretty black dress covering her body, then to Tyler’s hand gripping her hips so tight like he was afraid she was gonna fall. Or run away. Xavier took the last shot with shaky hands and failed.

“Too bad,” Tyler coed mockingly reaching out his hand. “You shot your shot and you missed. It’s mine now.”

Xavier had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the game.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The two boys were staring at each other, neither wanting to back down. Xavier realized just how stupid he was for being there just to poke Tyler further. He didn’t know what he expected to happen. That the girl of his dreams was just going to fall in his arms, begging him to save her from evil Tyler? Yeah, sure.

Maybe he wanted revenge on Tyler for what he did to him. To show him up and humiliate him. Maybe he just wanted to spend a little more time with her. To see her up close a little more. Hear her voice a little more. Stare into her eyes. He didn’t realize how much he missed her presence till he got it back. That asshole was so lucky that he got to have her all to himself and he didn’t even appreciate it. He should be worshiping the ground she walks on. Like he would.

“Stop ogling her,” Tyler pushed him against the archery stand. “She wouldn’t fuck a freak like you.”

Xavier stood up straight, reminding Tyler that he was much taller than him. A scared look surfaced on his face for just a second before it was replaced with an angry scowl. It gave Xavier a rush of confidence.

“Careful now,” he egged him on. “You don’t have your buddies with you anymore to help.”

“That’s enough. I don’t want any of you hurt again."

(Y/N) put her hands on both of the guys’ chests and pushed them apart forcefully. The same warm almost electric feeling passed through Xavier’s body as it did every time she touched him.

“Don’t cream your pants, Thorpe. She barely grazed you.”

“What is your problem, teddy?” the girl questioned her boyfriend.

Xavier knew that nickname. Teddy. Teddy bear. It’s what she usually called him in the sweet moments when they got along. When they were cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, having morning coffee together. In his delusion, Xavier almost convinced himself that she was calling him that.

“No, don’t teddy bear me! He is the problem! Why do you insist on taking his side? Do you have a thing for outcasts all of a sudden? You think his dick glows in the dark or some shit?”

“You’re being paranoid, just because I don’t want you going to jail doesn’t mean I wanna fuck the guy!”

The guy. This girl was everything to Xavier and he was just some guy to her. Some guy ruining her relationship with her boyfriend of many years.

“I’m not going to jail. Ever since last year, you’ve been acting like I’m some kind of ticking bomb always on the verge of exploding. Even right now you look at me like I’m a monster. Hell, do you even love me anymore?”

Tyler started walking away from both of them. “I’m done. Your new boyfriend can drive you home tonight.”

With his hands in his pockets, Tyler marched toward his car while his girlfriend (ex?) watched him leave with tears in her eyes. She seemed frozen for a few moments but right before Xavier could tell her anything, or apologize, she took off into the forest without a single word.

Xavier looked for a second at his friends who were watching the whole thing unfold from a safe distance. He found Bianca’s eyes and she gave him a subtle nod.

He took off towards where the girl was headed. She couldn’t let her wander off into the forest alone. Especially not at night. There was a monster in those woods and if something were to happen to her Xavier would never forgive himself.

“(Y/N), wait,” he gasped for air. “You’re really fast.”

The girl didn’t really stop but slowed down the pace for him to catch up with her.

“Only when I’m sad,” she sobbed. “I like to walk in the woods to clear my head. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“I’m sorry I’ve riled up your boyfriend. I should’ve known he’d react this way.”

“It’s not your fault, Xavier, he’s been like this for a while now. Getting angry, breaking up with me before inevitably coming back to beg for forgiveness promising he’ll never do it again. He tells me he can’t live without me only to repeat the cycle at the slightest inconvenience.”

A familiar feeling was forming in Xavier’s stomach. Helplessness. This is what he felt like every time he saw them fight through the psychic link, which was often. Tyler would get jealous over something and throw a fit. (Y/N) would bring up a complaint she had and all hell broke loose. Lately, they’ve been fighting a lot about the new girl at Nevermore, Wednesday. It seemed like Tyler was harboring a crush on her, but every time the girl brought it up Tyler would get angry and defensive.

There were so many times when Xavier wanted to crawl out of Tyler’s mind and comfort the girl in front of him. Now was his chance. This girl was crying in front of him and he wasn’t trapped behind Tyler’s eyes anymore.

His trembling hands found their way to the small of her back, arms wrapping around the girl’s shoulders protectively like he could shield her from her own feelings. Or the people who caused them. He wanted to tell her she was safe in his arms.

She responded to the hug by pulling him closer, flushed against her body, and letting out a sob. It seemed she was starving for comfort as if no one has given her that in a long time.

“You don’t deserve this,” the words left Xavier’s mouth on their own.

She was too kind to ever suffer like that for anyone. He remembered how she treated his wounds and made sure he got home safe without even knowing him. Someone like her deserved only happiness and love.

Tyler however, deserved to have his ass handed to him a couple times. Xavier would do it gladly but he wouldn’t be able to stand how (Y/N) would look at him after that.

“He made his choice,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re just trying to protect him but he won’t listen.”

He couldn’t remember a time when any of his girlfriends were that protective of him. One of them actually was encouraging him to get into fights. But she never took care of him afterward, especially not after he lost. The closest he ever came to someone like that was Bianca who clearly had a crush on him and was very watchful of him but he never felt the same way about her. She couldn’t hold a candle to the girl crying on Xavier’s shoulder right now.

“I know what you want to say. I should just end it cause this relationship is going nowhere but… It’s not that simple. I’ve known him all my life, I don’t even have an idea as to what a life without Tyler would look like. And I just can’t say no to him when he’s crying. You don’t know how heartbroken he looks when he comes back.”

She let out another heart-wrenching sob. Xavier’s arms instinctively tightened around her, as if they could forcefully glue back the pieces of her broken heart. If only he were strong enough to do that.

He felt the girl shivering in his arms. He let her go for a second to take off his jacket and place it across her shoulders. Her dress was pretty but it didn’t do much to keep her warm. And his uniform jacket looked good on her.

“Looks to me like he doesn’t have a problem making you cry. You deserve better.”

The boy’s thumb wiped away a tear from her cheek. Gingerly, as if he was afraid she’d dissipate like a mirage the second he would touch her. Because a girl like her couldn’t be real. And if she was he could never have her.

“Thank you,” her words came out merely a whisper.

Her gaze traveled north to meet his eyes and Xavier forgot how to breathe. He could feel his own pulse in his thumb which was still resting on the girl’s face. How did she manage to become more beautiful every time his eyes laid on her? He’s never wanted to kiss anyone more in his life. He knew it was wrong but doing the wrong thing has never felt so enticing.

He was holding on to his morals by a hair strand and he knew that if she made the first step; if she leaned in and closed her eyes he wouldn’t make the smallest effort to stop her. He wasn’t strong enough. If she wanted to kiss him he would let her. So they could be wrong together.

@helluvafire​ you said you wanted part two.

sorry it took so long for this to arrive. i’ve been writing on it for two weeks cause i didn’t like it, i had to rewrite a lot. then i realized it was closing in on 6k words and i still wasn’t done so i decided i’ll just chop this part in two. that’s why it ends kinda abruptly.

 so i’m already 1.5k words into part 3. hopefully it’s not gonna take me another two weeks to finish.

also this whole thing was written exclusively between 12pm and 4 am. i can’t seem to be able to write at normal hours.

[dontsh0vethesun]

uhhh do people read wednesday addams x reader stuff bc i have ideas, smutty ideas

(she’d be aged up OBVI)

jenna ortega has dug her sexy claws into my soul and i need her actually

[supernaturalgirl20]

A Fool in Love

Pairings: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, oral (female receiving), live model painting, jealousy, Marcus being a lil possessive, fluff.

Summary: Marcus gets the shock of his life at his art class when you walk, as the model. Tonight’s class is painting the female form in all its glory. Other people get to see you naked and he does not like it. One bit.

A/N: first time doing writer Wednesday in a while but saw this pic and felt inspired.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated. 🥰

Marcus was nervous.

He’s never been nervous about painting in his life but just the sight of you naked, laying across the chaise lounge has him sweating like a horny teenage boy about to lose his virginity.

His eyes flicker around the room and he takes in the sight of the others, already working their brushes along the canvas. A new emotion surges through him. Anger. He was angry at the fact that these other people had a chance to see you naked.

He hated the way their eyes roamed over your curved figure. How they could see the way your breasts heaved with each breath. The way your thighs giggled slightly as you moved to get comfortable. How your hand covered your….

Fuck. Get it together. You can do this. It’s just a life drawing. He’s done it before. Yes, but the other people I’ve painted weren’t her and this is the first time I’ve seen her naked.

***

You’d both met through work. Marcus and his team were helping the museum with some stolen artwork and you were the head of the department.

It was an instant spark and he had asked you to dinner once everything was over. You were perfect. The way you laughed at his silly jokes and the way your eyes sparkled when you caught him watching you. He was besotted but his heart had been bruised too many times to rush head first into this.

He asked to take it slow. Which was fine at first but the more he got to know you and how you had the same dreams as him it became harder and harder to hold back.

On the last date, you had tried to get him to come inside for a coffee but the way you had kissed him told him that was the last thing on your mind, so he reluctantly refused. Now he was regretting it all.

***

His hand shakes as he brings the brush towards the canvas, beginning to paint an outline of your form. His mind becomes focused. Focused on the colours to use and what areas to highlight but he makes the mistake of looking at you. Really, looking at you and your eyes are already on him.

That sparkle in those beautiful orbs as you smile at him. His eyes flicker to your breasts once more and his cock stirs to life beneath his jeans, pushing hard against the zipper. Fuck! I can’t do this.

Standing abruptly he moves towards you, knocking his paints and canvas into the floor. Grabbing your robe off the floor he wraps it around you much to the annoyance of the others.

“Marcus, what are you?” He lifts you and turns to Mrs Mayfield. “I’m so sorry but Y/N is my girlfriend and I - I can’t sit here and let these other people see her like this. I’m the only one who gets that privilege.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and you feel flushed at his words. This was what you wanted after all. To evoke a response. To get him to finally take you how you wanted. He grabbed his coat and practically pushed you out of the room. “I’m sorry baby…I - I just couldn’t have them looking at you like this…I - only I get to see this.”

A smile spreads over your face and he looks at you - head tilted in confusion. “Marcus, baby, this was what I wanted. I’ve wanted you to touch me for weeks now and you kept piling away so I had to do something drastic.”

A low growl rumbles through his throat and his lips crash into yours. His tongue licks along your bottom lip until you allow him to tangle it with yours. He pulls back, his breathing ragged. “I need to take you home, now.”

***

The tension in the air rises as you both frantically remove each other’s clothes. Your lips barely separate as you stumble through the house. His hands skim the side of your waist and down over your thighs as they find purchase under your ass.

He lifts you onto the table, stepping between your legs, and he kneels as a servant would for his master. His hands trail up along your calves as he teases you. Lips skimming the inside of your thighs before his mouth finds your core.

A gasp leaves your mouth as your body shudders from his touch. Your back arches off the table and your breathing hitches as he works his tongue into you. His short beard - which he had grown for an undercover op - creates delicious friction.

He’s a man starved as he licks through your wet folds and sucks on your swollen clit. Your hands reach down and grab onto his hair, tugging his thick curls hard as you cry out his name. Your body shudders beneath him as pleasure consumes you. The table groaned against the weight.

Fuck you can’t wait anymore. “Marcus, please….I need you.” He looks up at you through hooded eyes and a devilish smirk on his face. “What do you need, baby?”

“You…I need you. Wanna feel you inside…please.” His hands grab onto your legs tight and pull you to the edge. “Wrap your legs around me, baby. Gonna move us to the couch.” He lifts you off the table and moves you both to the new sofa he bought, sitting back into it with you straddling him.

“Want you to ride me, baby.” You sit up slightly allowing him to pump himself before lining up at your core and sinking in slowly. A groan escapes his lips as he fills you. “So fucking tight…oh fuck…”

His head falls back as pleasure courses through him, your hips moving above him. His hand moves towards your breast grabbing it and squeezing it tight before he captures your nipple with his mouth.

“Marcus..oh fuck…I’m gonna come…” He helps you move above him, his eyes focused on where you are both joined, watching his cock move in and out of you. “Come on baby, come for me .” You clench around him as you cry out in ecstasy, “oh fuck…yes…Marcus.”

He stands, his grip on you tight as he flips you onto your back. He pounds into you grunting loudly in your ear. His hips begin to falter and he moves his hand to your clit, rubbing circles over your swollen bud.

“Want you to come again, baby. Can you do that for me?” Your body is pulsing beneath him as you breathe out a loud yes. The feeling of your cunt clenching him has him tethering along the edge. “Gonna come, baby…where do you….oh fuck where do you want me…”

“Inside…please….make me yours.” He thrusts twice more before spilling inside you, coating your womb with his seed. You’re both panting and sweaty as you come down from your high. “Are you ok, baby? I wasn’t too rough?” You smile up at him as your hand rests on his cheek, “never. I want you to do that again.”

He chuckles as he pulls away slowly and helps you up. You can feel his come dripping down your thighs. “I love you.” The word falls effortlessly from your lips.

Marcus is frozen still beside you, his mind trying to process your words. She said it first! Your smile falters a little thinking you’ve said it too soon when he suddenly grasps your face in his hands and kisses you passionately. “I love you too. So much.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @deliriosinrose @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @sirpascal @writer-wednesday @manuymesut

Marcus Pike: @paulalikestuff @vanemando15 @hb8301 @djarinslove @agingerindenial @afootnoteinyourhappiness @almaeunice @readsalot73 @loonymagizoologist

[sunflowersteves]

okay but what about professor!wanda × college!reader

that one has me on the floor ngl

warnings: age gap

it’s your first day of the new semester and on a limb, you decided to take a witchcraft class in the anthropology department. You weren’t sure what exactly to expect, but you sure weren’t expecting to see a firey red head with glasses, and a striking blazer.

she was poised and held her head up high as she gave out the class syllabus. Ever so often, her eyes would make contact with yours and you could’ve sworn your heart skipped a beat.

She could see your flustered stare and her lips curled into a smirk. She continued to lecture for the entirety of the class.

“Alright, everyone, I’ll see you next Friday.” Everyone started to pack up their things until she announced to the class. “Actually, y/n, can I see you in my office, later?”

yeah, you think you’re going to like this semester.

[bagelboys-withcreamcheese]

Modern!Reader x Arthur Morgan

~~

Arthur: I’m gonna need a human skull and you can’t ask why.

Reader: Only if you also don't ask why.

Reader, pulling out seven pristine human skulls: Take your pick.

Arthur:

Reader:

Arthur, grabbing one: This one is fine.

—

Arthur: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut...

Reader: You would eat yourself?

Arthur: I wouldn’t even question it.

—

Reader: Change is inedible.

Arthur: Don't you mean inevitable?

Reader, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

—

Arthur: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.

Reader: That's why I carry two swords.

—

Arthur: Petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday

Reader: Wednesay

Arthur: Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible.

—

Reader: I can explain.

Arthur: Can you?

Reader: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

—

Reader: Fuck!

Arthur, side-eyeing Jack: We've got to work on your cursing.

Reader: Why? I think I'm pretty good at cursing already.

—

Reader: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Arthur: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

—

Arthur: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait.

Reader: You and me!!!

Arthur, tearing up: Okay.

—

Arthur: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds.

Reader: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!?

Arthur: No! Four to five seconds!

Reader, bear hugging him: Too late!!!

—

Reader: Who hurt you?

Arthur: *snorts* What, you want a list?

Reader, slowing pulling out their gun: ...Yes, actually.

[chopper-witch]

Cost of Creation: Noble versus Nature

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Other characters: Frigga, Loki, you, your parents I made up, Fandral, Volstagg, Thor, Sif and her mother that I made up.

Locations: This town I made up :) Völuspá (in Asgard), the Capital

Things/words to know:

For aging since we know nothing, I’m making them age the initial 18 years for 50 years (so 50 equates to 18) and then they age slow as shit.

Völuspá is the first poem in the Poetic Edda and basically is about a völva (seeress) telling Odin about the world’s creation and end. So I used it as the name of sacred grounds of Asgard.

Veleda is what germanic tribes referred to as a highly respected seeress

Fjalltindr is basically an adjective for mountain/hills.

Word Count: 3,000+

Summary: You and Loki approach 19; you venture outside the Völuspá for the first time

A/N: Pretend your parents have other names (in this case their names are Lifa and Mikkel). As usual all mistakes are mine. :)

CoC masterlist

Previous

____

Every Saturday and Sunday Loki came down with Frigga to the Völuspá. And every Saturday and Sunday the two of you learned and practiced together. Everyone else in the Völupsá is older than both of you, so your training is always quiet, nice, and filled with a little too much trouble. 

The first weekend the two of you trained together was… odd. You could already do so much and Loki had no clue what he even was supposed to possibly do - he had only seen the small tricks of his mothers to distract he and his brother on occasion. 

The two of you were left alone under the shade of the ancient Yggdrasil tree while your parents and Frigga were off to do something. Since the tree is the center of the Völupsá, it is the center of all the magic in Asgard and is where every connection to seiðr begins. Its roots lead down to Mimir’s Well, a small staircase carved beside the roots with a door near the base of the tree. 

You were sitting against said door, fingers tracing the old carvings in the roots that have worn into unreadable runes over the years. After only a few minutes you had begun to grow bored, eyes rolling at Loki’s little balled fist as he angrily repeats the spell on the page before him. So you began to shift the leaves on the ground to butterflies, different shades of blue and green and ensuring they flew to his hair and stuck in his black locks. 

“How are you already so good?” Loki demanded to know as he gave up a moment, swatting the butterflies away. 

“What do you mean how am I already so good?”

“Well I mean you are already making butterflies out of leaves and I can’t even turn a page!”

“I was born here, I was born down in the Well, and I’m a descendant Seiðrine. I’ve been doing magic since I was born, I have over a decade on you.” 

Loki huffed. “Well I’m going to be as good as you one day.”

“I hope so, otherwise I’ll be quite alone here.”

And after that woeful first day when it took far too long for him to even begin, most of your lessons were more equal. And while most things you both are learning for the first time or things Loki studied more during the days in which he was supposed to be doing his normal schooling, there is one thing you have already masted well beyond your age: telekinesis. Which always causes problems whenever you two are by any sort of water since your favorite thing to control is water; freezing splashes and drops in midair. It’s a struggle to explain why this is general telekinesis and not a specific type of kinesis to Loki who is just now learning magic at all. It does, however, give your father an idea of what the gift you will be receiving during your 50th birthday ceremony will most likely be. 

He was always immensely proficient at shapeshifting, so he got the ability to shift to be invisible. Heimdall excelled at aura reading and healing, so he got the ability to see all souls. Lorelei excelled at fate magic, so she got enhanced persuasion through her voice.

And in 31 years, at this point, everyone around you will know for sure. But all signs thus far are pointing towards enhanced telekinesis. 

As tradition follows, when the lessons for the day are finished, all four of you walk back towards the entrance of the Völupsá so you and your mother can see Loki and Frigga off. 

“Hey, are you both coming to Sif’s birthday on Wednesay?” Frigga asks before she and the youngest prince leaves. 

“I don’t see why not?” Your mother’s hands rest gently onto your shoulders. “It will be (y/n)’s first trip to the capital. First trip anywhere but the Völupsá, to be honest."

“Then you guys should most definitely come down. It will be nice for her to finally meet the rest of the children.” 

________ 

So on Wednesday you and your mother walked hand in hand down to the Capital. Your mother made sure the pair of you left earlier so if your mind wandered and you tugged too hard to force her to go on an entirely different path. 

Surprisingly, you were mostly undistracted by the crowds of the Capital and all the fanfare that went with it. So guiding you from the outskirts where there weren’t many people to the overflowing markets to the more secluded fields where many noble families were gathered for little Lady Sif’s 22nd birthday. 

“So this is your daughter, Lady Lífa,” a woman with long auburn hair twisted upon her head practically squeals, leaning down to look at you. 

As she draws closer her tawny freckled skin becomes far too detailed, dark blue eyes uncomfortably excited. You tilt back from her face as she grew close; the woman continued to interfere with your personal space as you tried to pull back, still gripping to your mother’s hand. 

“Sorry about that, Ásví. She’s not used to people getting so close to her,” your mother apologizes. 

“It’s alright, she is cute a gorgeous little girl. Though her outfit is… curious.” Ásví stands back up, trying to hold back her grimace as she looks at your mother. 

Your brows furrow as you look down to your outfit. It’s a nicer outfit than normal: dark green leather pants with a white tunic that goes well past your knees, slits beginning just above your hips and the tiniest detailing of a Yggdrasil where a keyhole neck cut out would normally go, but your parents insist you don’t wear yet.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” You question angrily before your mother can speak. 

“Well,” Ásví begins condescendingly, “it is common for women of all kind, but especially those of noble descent, to wear dresses, see?” She gestures towards the group of people behind her, her own blue dress swaying with her movements. 

“But I’m not just noble, I’m a descendant. I’m wearing clothes typical of the Völupsá, especially a descendant.” You stomp your foot as you finish. 

“But you are at a noble gathering, sweetie.”

“I’m not just a noble, though. It-”

“I’m sorry, Ásví,” your mother interrupts. “Maybe next time, we’ll find her a dress. I’m going to introduce her to the other children, alright?”

Ásví turns her scowling face away from you and switches to a pleasant smile as she looks back to your mother. 

“Of course. My little Sif is with all the others.”

With quick steps your mother ushers you both away from Ásví. Your mother sends a quick glance backwards as she moves you quickly along the grassy field.

“Mom?” You ask as you grow closer towards everyone else.

“Yes my little veleda?”

You look up to her. “You won’t make me wear a dress next time, will you?”

“Of course not, little veleda. You can choose, you always have the freedom to choose.” She smiles down at you, her matching eyes looking at you directly to assure you of what she has said. “Come on, you have more than just Loki to know. Outside of the Völupsá there are tons of people for you to know.” 

Both you and your mother look back towards everyone else. 

“You made it!” Loki yells as he dashes away form the group he is in the near middle of, tripping on his own feet to get to you.

Your right hand releases from your mother’s left and you dash towards Loki as well. Loki throws his arms around you in sheer excitement as if he this party was an utter bore before you got there. He lets go of you but keeps hold of your shoulder.

“Let me introduce you to everyone.”

“Alright.”

He grabs your left hand in his right and practically drags you towards everyone else. One girl stands separate from the rest as she moves to greet you and it is clear it is likely she who is celebrating her birthday.

“So this is Sif, whose birthday it is,” Loki begins, gesturing towards a girl a little bit taller than you while also dropping your hand.

She’s also got tan pants beneath her green dress, just barely visible and it’s clear her mother was not the one who approved her outfit. But her birthday, her rules, right? Her hair is braided back tightly to clearly reveal her stony-green eyes. 

“Hi Sif, I’m (y/n),” you reply and extend your hand. 

Sif grins after eyeing your outfit, easily shaking your hand. “I like your outfit, (y/n).”

“I like your pants, Sif. Happy birthday.”

Sif rolls her shoulders back to stand higher with her eyes sparkling as soon as the words pass your lips. It’s clear she has not received many, if not any, compliments on her choice of clothing. 

“Thank you.”

“Now, there are more we need to meet, come on!” Loki insists, pulling you away from Sif’s tight grip. 

“I’ll see you later!” You shout behind you as Loki ushers you away towards everyone else. 

He stops you in front of group of similarly aged children as they all tumble into a pile of wrestling and wildness. His hands stay rested on your shoulders in almost possession combined with nervousness. Loki is radiated anxiety as if everyone is going to suddenly reject you, yet he is also terrified to share the one friend he never thought he had to share.

“So, now, this is Fandral,” Loki points to a blond, “and Volstagg,” ginger, “and Bjǫrn,” auburn hair, and…” but the boys are all scattered now, running in different direction. 

A different blond jumps in front of the pair of you and you stumble backwards, the intrusion on your space so quickly startling you. Loki keeps his grip hard on your shoulder to steady you.

“I’m Prince Thor!” He practically yells in your face. 

Your brows furrow at his loudness and suddenness. Though you have not been to the palace, you have read many books of the previous Allfathers and Allmothers and you know that is no way for a prince to introduce himself. 

“I’m (y/n),” you slowly say. 

“I know. Loki has told me so much about you and your lessons.”

“Thor!” Loki whines from your left.

“It’s unfortunate you haven’t been here before. Two years since you’ve met and you’ve been hiding past all those mountains.”

You shake your head, trying to keep a smile on. “I’ve never left and I’m nearly nineteen.”

“Still.”

An involuntary grimace appears on your face as Thor lacks to explain. 

“I’m just going to sit, I think,” you mutter, utterly confused how Loki and Thor could possibly be siblings. 

You wander away from the brothers, feeling the aura between them change slightly suddenly at your words. A good twenty feet away you simply plop down on the grass unlady-like (not that anyone has taught you thus far how to perform like a lady) and begin plucking on the grass beneath you.

After a few minutes one of the kids Loki pointed out, Fandral you believe, comes to sit you beside you. At first he says nothing. You are content with nothing as you watch the squealing and yelling and chasing of all the other children. It’s not that you don’t want to play, but it’s already overwhelming to see all the people and families walking about. There are more people in this gathering than you have seen in your entire life. 

“So, I haven’t seen you before. What house are you from? Or are you not noble?”

“Oh, um, my mother is of the house of…” you pause to think back to what your mother told you, only days ago. Each noble house had a name based on what land they controlled when Asgard was first built… “Fjalltindr.”

“Oh, okay.”

It’s another good two or so minutes in silence before Fandral speaks again.

“If your mother is from a noble family, why are you never at any of these gatherings?” Fandral wonders.

You shrug, tugging on the grass beside you. “I don’t know.”

“Well what village are you from?” He pushes.

“I’m from the Völuspá.” 

Fandral’s eyes go wide in surprise. “So you’re one of those vættr?”

“Vættr?” You look to him, brows furrowed. “I’m not a vættr. I’m a practitioner of magic. And vætter aren’t bad either, they are just creatures of the supernatural. Like the great wolves, the serpents that once were. They aren’t bad, just… are.”

Fandral furiously shakes his head. “You’re one of those freaks, those unnaturals.” 

“No I’m not. Magic is what runs and protects Asgard.”

“Maybe, but everyone from the Völuspá is a freak!

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

The next tuft of grass you tug goes flying into the air, turning into a flock of yellow, wasp-like dragonflies, all turning directly towards Fandral. They dive-bomb into his hair and bury deep into the locks, the black bodies easily lost amongst the blond. 

He screeches like a newborn as he stands, shaking his head back and forth to rid of the dragonflies. 

Your mother (along with every other adult) turns towards the screaming. In order to stop you from causing more chaos, your mother dashes towards you. 

“What did I tell you?” 

You kick the dirt beneath you and avert your eyes from your mother. “Not to perform magic during this gathering.”

“Little veleda, it is not a punishment.” Your mother leans down to try and look at you. Her right hand lands onto your shoulder softly as a gentle assurance. “Most of the magic people here know of is only the enchantment of the bifrost and the basic protections, everything else they don’t understand. So not here, not now.” 

“Why are we even here? It’s boring.” You look back up to her to beg her, eyes widening in an attempt to convince her to take you home. “Why can’t I be at home with father?” 

“Only a couple more hours. And you would have to come with me at some point, figured this would be a better time than an actual formal event.” She drops her hand from your shoulder. “Go.” 

Frigga walks up behind your mother as you run off towards the rest of the children. 

“It’s hard enough to raise a kid. Try raising one who already has such an insane grasp on her connection,” your mother sighs as she stands. 

“Loki’s already getting strong. At least you don’t have two boys, one who wants to fight his way through everything and the other wants to trick his way through everything.” 

With your mother and Frigga distracted and a majority of the other people not paying any mind to you an opportunity arises. The forest is close enough for you to sneak off to it. And nothing was said about magic not at the gathering. So you slip into the trees quietly, careful to avoid eyes of watchful adults. 

A little bit in, there is a river, more like a brook, surrounded by gray boulders. Your hands touch one of the smaller ones, looking up to assess just how large it is. From the friction against your hands you know even if it were taller it would still be climbable. With a small jump, your hand reaches the first crevice where you can actually grip, followed with your left hand feeling for another as your feet press into it. In all honesty, it isn’t the best rock to scale but it’s better than just sitting along the bank. Thankfully it only takes a few minutes to climb it. 

Once up on top, you swing your legs to dangle off the other side. In this moment you would hate to wear a dress and glad your mother let you wear pants instead. 

A few snaps in the woods alerts you to someone. It’s likely they followed you from the party. You know it isn’t any of the adults, they were not watching. Another kid. None of them would hold enough interest to follow you except Loki so you know it is him.

“All these things are so boring, Loki. It sucks,” you announce.

The steps pause. 

“It’s alright, you know? You can come sit up here.” 

The sounds of him clamoring up the rock are quiet compared to the rush of the river in front of you. But you listen still. Each scrape, each small grunt his another noise for you to focus on as you wait patiently for him to join you. 

Loki swings his legs around sits beside you on the rock. 

“Well I’m going to be king one day so I am proud to sit through these boring parties,” Loki announces, tilting his head up.

“No you’re not.” 

Loki turns to you. “Pardon me?” 

“I said no you’re not.” Your fingers grab a pebble from the boulder and begin swirling it between your hands. “Unless your entire family dies, the crown will never go to you unless explicitly passed on. Your father dies before Thor comes of age, your mother rules as Queen Regent. Thor dies after the crown has been passed to him but your father is alive? Crown goes to him. I could keep going on. You will never be a king so why bother sitting through all this stupid stuff.” 

You throw the rock into the river. 

The following splash freezes midair as you stare at it. It’s small; the pebble barely disrupted the much rush at all. Still the droplets remain as the rest of the water pushes on as though nothing is happening at all. Loki still isn’t sure how you do it. 

“Let’s suffer together then,” Loki proposes, turning back to you from the river. “You don’t want to be here and neither do I, let’s at least make it more bearable together.” 

All you reply with is a hum. It’s not a horrible offer, to be honest. Together. 

Your eyes glance over to him. “Are you coming tomorrow down to Völuspá?” 

“I should be. Mother told me are working on shape shifting.” 

You sigh. “I don’t know what we will be doing.” 

But anything would be better than this dreadful gathering.

So your fingers move to grab another pebble to toss, this one larger, and once again stop the splash. Loki’s eyes follow yours back to the water to see your little trick.

“How do you do that?” Loki asks innocently. 

“It’s just telekinesis,” you mumble, releasing the splash. 

“But ho-”

“We’ve been looking all over for you two!” Lífa yells. Both of you turn over your shoulder, looking in towards  “Why are you down by the river?” 

“You said no magic at the gathering but nothing about the river.” 

“Then what are you doing here Loki?” Frigga demands. 

Loki shrugs and looks back to you. “I saw her leave and I thought I should follow.” 

The friends share look to each other, both with their own unique twist of concern. The two of you are only going to become more and more of a handful. 

__

Next

__

Taglist:

@tarynkauai @krystallynx

[samingtonwilson]

2 Things on this Wilson’s wednesay/Cap’s Birthday; a)Sam is the best birthday planner ever, tailoring his plans 4 the person’s personality, so Cap will have a get together of friends n fam with old school music. U will wear a 40s lingerie under your clothes 4 Sam to see later. He won’t wanna wash off the red kiss marks on his body afterwards. And B) may I humbly request using the prompts 1 and 27 for a Sam x Reader please? Falcon bless us everyone!!

THIS IS SO CUTE OMG

also i don’t take requests but i like that one so i’ll file it away under requests and inshallah i’ll come back to it 

[supernaturalgirl20]

Marcus is a passionate guy, what can I say 🥰😈

A Fool in Love

Pairings: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, oral (female receiving), live model painting, jealousy, Marcus being a lil possessive, fluff.

Summary: Marcus gets the shock of his life at his art class when you walk, as the model. Tonight’s class is painting the female form in all its glory. Other people get to see you naked and he does not like it. One bit.

A/N: first time doing writer Wednesday in a while but saw this pic and felt inspired.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated. 🥰

Marcus was nervous.

He’s never been nervous about painting in his life but just the sight of you naked, laying across the chaise lounge has him sweating like a horny teenage boy about to lose his virginity.

His eyes flicker around the room and he takes in the sight of the others, already working their brushes along the canvas. A new emotion surges through him. Anger. He was angry at the fact that these other people had a chance to see you naked.

He hated the way their eyes roamed over your curved figure. How they could see the way your breasts heaved with each breath. The way your thighs giggled slightly as you moved to get comfortable. How your hand covered your….

Fuck. Get it together. You can do this. It’s just a life drawing. He’s done it before. Yes, but the other people I’ve painted weren’t her and this is the first time I’ve seen her naked.

***

You’d both met through work. Marcus and his team were helping the museum with some stolen artwork and you were the head of the department.

It was an instant spark and he had asked you to dinner once everything was over. You were perfect. The way you laughed at his silly jokes and the way your eyes sparkled when you caught him watching you. He was besotted but his heart had been bruised too many times to rush head first into this.

He asked to take it slow. Which was fine at first but the more he got to know you and how you had the same dreams as him it became harder and harder to hold back.

On the last date, you had tried to get him to come inside for a coffee but the way you had kissed him told him that was the last thing on your mind, so he reluctantly refused. Now he was regretting it all.

***

His hand shakes as he brings the brush towards the canvas, beginning to paint an outline of your form. His mind becomes focused. Focused on the colours to use and what areas to highlight but he makes the mistake of looking at you. Really, looking at you and your eyes are already on him.

That sparkle in those beautiful orbs as you smile at him. His eyes flicker to your breasts once more and his cock stirs to life beneath his jeans, pushing hard against the zipper. Fuck! I can’t do this.

Standing abruptly he moves towards you, knocking his paints and canvas into the floor. Grabbing your robe off the floor he wraps it around you much to the annoyance of the others.

“Marcus, what are you?” He lifts you and turns to Mrs Mayfield. “I’m so sorry but Y/N is my girlfriend and I - I can’t sit here and let these other people see her like this. I’m the only one who gets that privilege.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and you feel flushed at his words. This was what you wanted after all. To evoke a response. To get him to finally take you how you wanted. He grabbed his coat and practically pushed you out of the room. “I’m sorry baby…I - I just couldn’t have them looking at you like this…I - only I get to see this.”

A smile spreads over your face and he looks at you - head tilted in confusion. “Marcus, baby, this was what I wanted. I’ve wanted you to touch me for weeks now and you kept piling away so I had to do something drastic.”

A low growl rumbles through his throat and his lips crash into yours. His tongue licks along your bottom lip until you allow him to tangle it with yours. He pulls back, his breathing ragged. “I need to take you home, now.”

***

The tension in the air rises as you both frantically remove each other’s clothes. Your lips barely separate as you stumble through the house. His hands skim the side of your waist and down over your thighs as they find purchase under your ass.

He lifts you onto the table, stepping between your legs, and he kneels as a servant would for his master. His hands trail up along your calves as he teases you. Lips skimming the inside of your thighs before his mouth finds your core.

A gasp leaves your mouth as your body shudders from his touch. Your back arches off the table and your breathing hitches as he works his tongue into you. His short beard - which he had grown for an undercover op - creates delicious friction.

He’s a man starved as he licks through your wet folds and sucks on your swollen clit. Your hands reach down and grab onto his hair, tugging his thick curls hard as you cry out his name. Your body shudders beneath him as pleasure consumes you. The table groaned against the weight.

Fuck you can’t wait anymore. “Marcus, please….I need you.” He looks up at you through hooded eyes and a devilish smirk on his face. “What do you need, baby?”

“You…I need you. Wanna feel you inside…please.” His hands grab onto your legs tight and pull you to the edge. “Wrap your legs around me, baby. Gonna move us to the couch.” He lifts you off the table and moves you both to the new sofa he bought, sitting back into it with you straddling him.

“Want you to ride me, baby.” You sit up slightly allowing him to pump himself before lining up at your core and sinking in slowly. A groan escapes his lips as he fills you. “So fucking tight…oh fuck…”

His head falls back as pleasure courses through him, your hips moving above him. His hand moves towards your breast grabbing it and squeezing it tight before he captures your nipple with his mouth.

“Marcus..oh fuck…I’m gonna come…” He helps you move above him, his eyes focused on where you are both joined, watching his cock move in and out of you. “Come on baby, come for me .” You clench around him as you cry out in ecstasy, “oh fuck…yes…Marcus.”

He stands, his grip on you tight as he flips you onto your back. He pounds into you grunting loudly in your ear. His hips begin to falter and he moves his hand to your clit, rubbing circles over your swollen bud.

“Want you to come again, baby. Can you do that for me?” Your body is pulsing beneath him as you breathe out a loud yes. The feeling of your cunt clenching him has him tethering along the edge. “Gonna come, baby…where do you….oh fuck where do you want me…”

“Inside…please….make me yours.” He thrusts twice more before spilling inside you, coating your womb with his seed. You’re both panting and sweaty as you come down from your high. “Are you ok, baby? I wasn’t too rough?” You smile up at him as your hand rests on his cheek, “never. I want you to do that again.”

He chuckles as he pulls away slowly and helps you up. You can feel his come dripping down your thighs. “I love you.” The word falls effortlessly from your lips.

Marcus is frozen still beside you, his mind trying to process your words. She said it first! Your smile falters a little thinking you’ve said it too soon when he suddenly grasps your face in his hands and kisses you passionately. “I love you too. So much.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @deliriosinrose @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @sirpascal @writer-wednesday @manuymesut

Marcus Pike: @paulalikestuff @vanemando15 @hb8301 @djarinslove @agingerindenial @afootnoteinyourhappiness @almaeunice @readsalot73 @loonymagizoologist

[supernaturalgirl20]

You’re welcome ☺️🥰🥰🥰🤟

A Fool in Love

Pairings: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, oral (female receiving), live model painting, jealousy, Marcus being a lil possessive, fluff.

Summary: Marcus gets the shock of his life at his art class when you walk, as the model. Tonight’s class is painting the female form in all its glory. Other people get to see you naked and he does not like it. One bit.

A/N: first time doing writer Wednesday in a while but saw this pic and felt inspired.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated. 🥰

Marcus was nervous.

He’s never been nervous about painting in his life but just the sight of you naked, laying across the chaise lounge has him sweating like a horny teenage boy about to lose his virginity.

His eyes flicker around the room and he takes in the sight of the others, already working their brushes along the canvas. A new emotion surges through him. Anger. He was angry at the fact that these other people had a chance to see you naked.

He hated the way their eyes roamed over your curved figure. How they could see the way your breasts heaved with each breath. The way your thighs giggled slightly as you moved to get comfortable. How your hand covered your….

Fuck. Get it together. You can do this. It’s just a life drawing. He’s done it before. Yes, but the other people I’ve painted weren’t her and this is the first time I’ve seen her naked.

***

You’d both met through work. Marcus and his team were helping the museum with some stolen artwork and you were the head of the department.

It was an instant spark and he had asked you to dinner once everything was over. You were perfect. The way you laughed at his silly jokes and the way your eyes sparkled when you caught him watching you. He was besotted but his heart had been bruised too many times to rush head first into this.

He asked to take it slow. Which was fine at first but the more he got to know you and how you had the same dreams as him it became harder and harder to hold back.

On the last date, you had tried to get him to come inside for a coffee but the way you had kissed him told him that was the last thing on your mind, so he reluctantly refused. Now he was regretting it all.

***

His hand shakes as he brings the brush towards the canvas, beginning to paint an outline of your form. His mind becomes focused. Focused on the colours to use and what areas to highlight but he makes the mistake of looking at you. Really, looking at you and your eyes are already on him.

That sparkle in those beautiful orbs as you smile at him. His eyes flicker to your breasts once more and his cock stirs to life beneath his jeans, pushing hard against the zipper. Fuck! I can’t do this.

Standing abruptly he moves towards you, knocking his paints and canvas into the floor. Grabbing your robe off the floor he wraps it around you much to the annoyance of the others.

“Marcus, what are you?” He lifts you and turns to Mrs Mayfield. “I’m so sorry but Y/N is my girlfriend and I - I can’t sit here and let these other people see her like this. I’m the only one who gets that privilege.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and you feel flushed at his words. This was what you wanted after all. To evoke a response. To get him to finally take you how you wanted. He grabbed his coat and practically pushed you out of the room. “I’m sorry baby…I - I just couldn’t have them looking at you like this…I - only I get to see this.”

A smile spreads over your face and he looks at you - head tilted in confusion. “Marcus, baby, this was what I wanted. I’ve wanted you to touch me for weeks now and you kept piling away so I had to do something drastic.”

A low growl rumbles through his throat and his lips crash into yours. His tongue licks along your bottom lip until you allow him to tangle it with yours. He pulls back, his breathing ragged. “I need to take you home, now.”

***

The tension in the air rises as you both frantically remove each other’s clothes. Your lips barely separate as you stumble through the house. His hands skim the side of your waist and down over your thighs as they find purchase under your ass.

He lifts you onto the table, stepping between your legs, and he kneels as a servant would for his master. His hands trail up along your calves as he teases you. Lips skimming the inside of your thighs before his mouth finds your core.

A gasp leaves your mouth as your body shudders from his touch. Your back arches off the table and your breathing hitches as he works his tongue into you. His short beard - which he had grown for an undercover op - creates delicious friction.

He’s a man starved as he licks through your wet folds and sucks on your swollen clit. Your hands reach down and grab onto his hair, tugging his thick curls hard as you cry out his name. Your body shudders beneath him as pleasure consumes you. The table groaned against the weight.

Fuck you can’t wait anymore. “Marcus, please….I need you.” He looks up at you through hooded eyes and a devilish smirk on his face. “What do you need, baby?”

“You…I need you. Wanna feel you inside…please.” His hands grab onto your legs tight and pull you to the edge. “Wrap your legs around me, baby. Gonna move us to the couch.” He lifts you off the table and moves you both to the new sofa he bought, sitting back into it with you straddling him.

“Want you to ride me, baby.” You sit up slightly allowing him to pump himself before lining up at your core and sinking in slowly. A groan escapes his lips as he fills you. “So fucking tight…oh fuck…”

His head falls back as pleasure courses through him, your hips moving above him. His hand moves towards your breast grabbing it and squeezing it tight before he captures your nipple with his mouth.

“Marcus..oh fuck…I’m gonna come…” He helps you move above him, his eyes focused on where you are both joined, watching his cock move in and out of you. “Come on baby, come for me .” You clench around him as you cry out in ecstasy, “oh fuck…yes…Marcus.”

He stands, his grip on you tight as he flips you onto your back. He pounds into you grunting loudly in your ear. His hips begin to falter and he moves his hand to your clit, rubbing circles over your swollen bud.

“Want you to come again, baby. Can you do that for me?” Your body is pulsing beneath him as you breathe out a loud yes. The feeling of your cunt clenching him has him tethering along the edge. “Gonna come, baby…where do you….oh fuck where do you want me…”

“Inside…please….make me yours.” He thrusts twice more before spilling inside you, coating your womb with his seed. You’re both panting and sweaty as you come down from your high. “Are you ok, baby? I wasn’t too rough?” You smile up at him as your hand rests on his cheek, “never. I want you to do that again.”

He chuckles as he pulls away slowly and helps you up. You can feel his come dripping down your thighs. “I love you.” The word falls effortlessly from your lips.

Marcus is frozen still beside you, his mind trying to process your words. She said it first! Your smile falters a little thinking you’ve said it too soon when he suddenly grasps your face in his hands and kisses you passionately. “I love you too. So much.”

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