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loganlermanstanaccount · 8 months

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Rigor Mortis (part 9)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 8, Part 10

summary: You both come to a realisation.

warnings: smut! f! masturbation, grinding, humping, fingering, (implied) recreational drug use, alcohol, dubcon (-ish! reader is drunk but the interaction is consensual, tagging just in case xx), teeny tiny bit of mutual pining. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: yuhh

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 7.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

all that light lost in gaps

You're gone, in the morning.

…he should've expected it. Miguel stumbles out of sleep, groggy and disoriented. He finds himself reaching out for something in the half-light.

He finds himself reaching for you. And when you're not there, leaving a person sized gap at the crook of his arm, his stomach churns. He pretends it's not disappointment, or the sharp crack of yearning ; settling at his chest like a crowbar, and prying open his ribs. It's worry, he decides resolutely, a perfectly normal, healthy amount of worry. As your roommate; and nothing else, he keeps reminding himself; he's just worried about where you've rushed off to, especially after yesterday.

Senior year. He was assigned a bullshit paper in a Civics class – one he'd usually half-ass for an easy A. He'd wax poetic about morality – amorphous, vague platitudes about duty and societal expectations. By the end of the year, he had it down to a science: a couple thousand words remixed and plucked from lesser known philosophers, videos online, and overdue library books. Either he was getting too good at it, or his teacher was too stupid to notice; but regardless, he coasted through the class right up until graduation. His last paper, and he remembers it distinctly, was on the book of the same name; aptly titled What We Owe Each Other. A plodding, pluralistic read; of which he had only scanned through, anyways. Extra credit, anything to graduate early, and he'd had more than enough on his plate at the time.

And so, he wasn't expecting the B+ underlined and circled in red ink on the front page. It felt like his teacher had handed it back to him face down, slammed onto the desk like the thunderous crack of a whip. And he didn't need that A, strictly speaking. Yet, he had found himself staying over after class, crinkling that piece of paper in hand as he'd asked why.

She sighs. Miss Hunter's glasses slip down her nose, as they are prone to do.

"You're an outstanding student. I hear you're graduating early, and you're off somewhere prestigious in the fall. This is… definitely not a bad grade, and it's nothing, I promise you."

It doesn't work like that, for him. His teacher doesn't get it, but it will eat him up inside-out if he's not able to understand.

"Was it my referencing?" He fumbles with the strap of his bag.

"No. Not at all–"

"I did the extra reading…the article you mentioned in class, and–"

He's cut off by the scrape of a desk chair. Miss Hunter gets up to close the door, before settling on her desk.

Arms crossed, she seems tired. Worried, maybe, but it doesn't register with Miguel. The thought doesn't even cross his mind, that there are others with the capacity to worry about him.

"Technically, it's well written. As usual, Miguel." She gives him a weak smile. "It just… lacked heart."

His brows jump up. "...heart?"

"There's not really a narrative voice, here."

He taps at the paper on the desk, frustrated. "You didn't ask for a narrative voice, though. You didn't ask for… for heart. I read the book, I did the extra reading, and I wrote a report. That was the brief."

"Not quite." She says it gently, but it still sounds like nails on a chalkboard to him. "The brief was vague, intentionally so. 'What Do We Owe Each Other? Discuss.' I gave examples, sure: excerpts from the book we touched on in class, articles, academic papers, etcetera. They were… suggestions."

"...suggestions." He's incredulous.

She nods. "You followed it to the letter, Miguel. You gave me a summary, with a few key links. Fully referenced, yes. Well-written, yes. But this feels like a sum of parts. It doesn't tell me anything about you; your perspective, your angle. Your voice."

He's biting back choice words. It sounds like bullshit to him, for lack of a better word. Flowery, hoity-toity BS; served up to him on a steaming platter. That's it?

Maybe it shows on his face, because she's asking, as delicately as possible,

"Is everything okay?"

Instinctually, he seizes up.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm good."

"I know you don't take this class as seriously because it's not an AP, or an elective, or maybe not as challenging as you need it to be. And that's okay, Miguel. I'm happy for you to use my class as a break from all the other stuff." She swallows thickly. "You're not from our usual feeder schools. The Academy is particularly rigorous. But considering your… situation, we can make exceptions. If there's anything I can do–"

"There isn't a 'situation'."

"Right. Of course, I'm sorry. But if you need a couple days off of school because of…" She pasues, saying the next part softly. "Because of the baby… I mean, you're already acing my class–"

"No." He says it firmly, eyes trained onto the wood grain peeking out from underneath piles of documents. He wants to ask how she knows, and how he's always the last to find out that rumours have spread, and–

"Miguel." Her voice cuts through dense fog. She repeats her previous statement. “If there's anything I can do–”

“If you want to help, you can give me that A.” It's bone dry, said with the kind of sarcasm he's grown accustomed to. He wears it over his shoulders, sometimes; draped to keep out biting cold, or unfamiliar warmth from a stranger - it all feels the same, now.

She gives him a rueful smile. “Need more than that, m'afraid.”

Heart. Voice. What We Owe Each Other – and he doesn't know why that phrase sticks in his throat. It's been drilled into him since childhood; family and community, helping each other out of the starting blocks; and beaten out of him during adolescence. The creaking and cracking of bones after each step, where out in the world it's a different matter entirely.

His mama has bad taste in men, and he finds himself picking up the pieces. Gabi is more sensitive than he'll ever admit, trying not to cry amongst broken plates and chicken-wire hidden in a bouquet of peonies: prickly words that cut and hack, and it's Miguel that wipes the tears from his brother's cheek. That devastatingly gentle sigh when he had told his mama what he had done - how he had fallen for a soft bed and even softer lips at the ripe age of 16 and a half - and Miguel carries that weight. What We Owe Each Other – and he's only ever fed entitled egos. Not his family, of course, but he's been burned. He's had more than his fair share of it.

He doesn't owe the world shit, he thinks.

He doesn't owe you shit.

It doesn't help that he's been stuck in place, grasping at cushion covers and a raggedy blanket. Trying not to drown in the heady scent of you, he's been dragging thick fingers over the fabric as if in a trance. You don't owe him anything, either. Nary an apology, an explanation; so much as a sorry spilling from pretty lips in that way where they quiver like a gentle flame.

He's touched them, felt them drag across his skin like the finest silk, and dropped to his knees in search of something you've never given him. It doesn't matter if you don't; kiss him , that is; the swirling, desperate sort that leaves him heaving and creaking and begging for more. He thinks he'd still scuff up the denim at his knees if you asked, regardless - he'd do anything , if it was for you.

It's not realistic to expect anything from you. You don't need to tell him where you've gone or why you've left so early. You don't need to, and yet he finds himself reaching for his phone.

Miguel sends a well placed message; deft fingers tapping away at the screen. Before he changes his mind, it's sent; and he's chewing his lip whilst waiting for a steady three dots. Lyla is slower than usual, but she comes through. She doesn't ask questions - because she knows him better than he knows himself - and gives him a thumbs up.

They'll call each other later, that much he's sure of, but for now he reads between the lines. Short bursts of text, like firecrackers flashing across a night sky, and only through nonsensical emojis and odd slang can they understand each other.

This part, he can do. And he'll do whatever he needs to, not what he owes.

~~~

You make it to Pam's just after it opens.

At 7 o'clock sharp, you've made the journey; in an empty subway car, spilling out onto the streets like treacle left in the neck of a bottle. It's not quite a squeeze, passing by only a handful of people, with nothing but a jacket thrown over last night's clothes. In a daze, you realise too late: it's Miguel's. A dusty, worn thing; brown leather crackling at the sleeves and heavy on your shoulders. It feels like a hug, and it feels like him : warm and stiff. It smells like him too, and you bury your nose in the collar on the subway, sleeves kissing your palm like his hand is in yours.

It's a feeling that takes you all the way to the doors: past the slats bolted shut and down a familiar alley. You push past them, sneakers on slick tiles, and give a weak smile to the woman that perks up from behind the counter, kicking away the mop and bucket.

"Hiya, welcome to Pam's! How can I–"

"Oh, God , no." You wave her off. "Take your time. I need a minute, if that's okay."

Settling on the barstool, you watch as the young woman smiles, picking up a rag and wiping at the counter. You sit in it, for a while.

Dregs drip in through the front. The bell at the top of the door chimes, tinny and cheerful in the relative gloom of a quiet morning.

It's cold , outside. Autumn, biting at your fingers and nose. Eventually you opt for a coffee, piping hot to stave off that chill. Bitter, the aftertaste lingers at the back of your throat. You find yourself picking at the chipped mug, chasing away that taste with fluffy pancakes. The combination doesn't feel quite the same – not after many a morning with your roommate.

You settle into the seat. You wrap that old jacket around you. You sip at tart coffee and pick at your nails. A quiet morning, one to yourself, one to keep hidden at the crook of your chest. Some semblance of peace , wrapped up in the spindles of a dandelion. That is to say; delicate and fleeting, whipped away by the breeze.

You've decided not to think too hard about it. That kind of thinking ends dangerously, you've realised: with long, hot nights spent tossing and turning. It ends with a head full of cotton, and a pounding at your chest. With blood, with tears, with a stranger in your bed. And so, you go for the cleaner option. The safer one, all things considered, that's less likely to end in a broken heart.

You float around for a while. Walking without a real destination, trying to ground yourself. Eventually, you end up home, opening the door to an empty apartment. There's no traces left of a night spent in Miguel's arms. Good, you think, slipping your shoes off at the door. It doesn't feel good , but if you say it enough times you just might believe it.

The cleaner option; the one with less gristle and bone; is a familiar one. You settle into a shower; steamy and soapy, taking your time to clean out the blood from under your fingernails. The grime, the dirt ; you watch it swirl into the drain, hands running across soft flesh. You try to do it like Jamie did, once upon a time. It doesn't feel right, and has you leaning onto the cool tile. The shower head sputters, a shaky pressure on your back but you lean into it and close your eyes. You rub a hand at the crook of your chest, and then down, down, down, circling your breast and then following the curve of hips to the apex of your legs. Tipping your head, letting the hot water stream through your hair and then your back; and you touch, feel , and you can almost taste him ; sweet and saccharine Miguel, at your lips.

With two fingers flat against your clit, you rub little circles at the nub, dipping into your hole for much needed wetness. Your other hand travels up soft skin, pads of your fingers grazing collarbone, and then they curl around your neck. With a little pressure, your thumb grazes your jaw. Like he does, except your hands aren't as deliciously rough or as large. You slip a finger in, and then two, water pounding your back and eyes screwed. You push past that initial tightness, searching for a little give. When it comes, cunt clenching around your fingers, just shy of that sweet spot as you press your clit with the heel of your palm; you're imagining it's your roommate. He'd wrap those thick forearms around you, press his cock to the crest of your back and touch you like you deserve.

You do it like Miguel would, reverent , touching you as if you were clay at a potter's wheel. In the hands of God herself, you cum; falling, falling, falling; tumbling down white water rapids and spit back up into the rushing water. You're panting, now, out of breath.

When you sink onto your bed, you realise it's not quite enough. Still in a fluffy robe, steam curls from your skin like clouds – ones that smell of cheap body wash and shampoo. Before you know it, you're reaching for your phone, sending two quick messages to a certain somebody.

[Sent: 15:32]

hey mig

[Sent: 15:32]

where did u go?

You don't expect a quick reply - he's never been much of a texter. But those three dots pop up in no time at all, much to your surprise.

[Received: 15:33]

Out.

[Received: 15:33]

Running errands.

It's succinct and to the point – of which you expect nothing else from Miguel. Your thumbs fly to the screen to reply but another message tugs the rug out from under your shaky legs.

[Received: 15:35]

Is everything okay?

[Sent: 15:35]

yeah

[Sent: 15:36]

all good

When that provides no response, you're left chewing on your lip, anxious. He's seen the message, he's read the message; but for some reason, several minutes go by and there's no response.

You're ready to give up and chalk it to your roommate's hot-and-cold nature, when your phone rings.

Immediately, you pick up.

" Don't believe you." His voice rings out, tinny, nestled amongst the covers.

"Hey, Mig." You settle down on the bed, putting him on speaker and placing it by your ears.

" Did you hear what I said?" His tone is deep and intense, making you shiver. It's not quite the same, of course, but you're reminded of nights spent with his lips tucked close the shell of your ear.

You swallow. "Yeah. I… I did."

" You sure? Because you suck at lying."

"Don't be an asshole."

" Think I get a free pass when you disappear for the whole day."

You roll your eyes. “You didn't call–”

“ Would you have answered?”

Ouch. He sounds frustrated, the quiet chatter of his background bathed in heavy silence. Silence thick with tension, and you almost choke on it.

He breaks it with a heavy sigh. “ You okay? ”

“No. Not really.”

“ Okay. ” He lets it sit for a while, before saying, “ I'll be home, soon. There's leftovers in the fridge, and you should eat, sweetheart. You want anything from the store? ”

His voice is so, so soft. It crackles like kindling on a fire: warmth that blooms and spreads to your chest. Like slipping off frozen gloves to thaw off in front of a heater, and he just makes you feel impossibly warm.

“Not really, thanks.” You mumble it, and hear a satisfied grunt from the other end. Before you change your mind, you say, “Sorry. M'sorry.”

Miguel gives a light chuckle and you think you can hear him smile, the kind you always chase after a stupid argument: one that tugs at the corners of his pretty lips.

“ You've got nothin' to be sorry about .”

He gives you a moment to feel the weight of his words, and ends the call. That heat at your chest blooms.

If Miguel O'Hara is the Sun, then maybe you don't mind being pulled into his orbit; bathing in steady light and warmth.

~~~

He comes home with flowers. A beautiful bouquet; delicate and balanced, featherlight wildflowers and brush, interspersed with sprays of blue and purple and pink. It's wonderfully dense, reminding you of the tangles of colour a child might decorate a picture with in wobbly crayon. Simply put, it's nothing short of a vision, and you notice how delicately he places it on the dining table.

With the rest of the grocery bags, Miguel clatters in, and you can't help but be curious. You're poking through the bags, sitting on the counter as he puts them away – after offering to help, of course, but he bats you away easily. Your bare legs bristle in the chill brought on by the window cracked open, and he just breezes past.

The cabinet opens with a thud , and your roommate busies himself with putting away food. Carefully, you watch the way the muscles of his back flexes this way and that - cut and lean under that thin sweater. He’s otherwise occupied, and so you take the opportunity to stare, playing with a loose string at the hem of silky shorts. And so, it makes you jump when your phone buzzes beside you. Innocuously, you glance at the notification, and your eyes go wide.

“Who’s that?” Miguel asks, voice light. With that freaky sixth sense of his, he doesn’t need to turn around to know, it seems.

“Lyla.” You murmur, reading the rest of the message.

“ ...And? ”

“Uh. Well…” Blinking, you can’t quite believe what she’s asking. “ Girl’s Night . I-I mean… she’s asking me to come with her for a Girl’s Night.”

“Really?” His tone is surprising, and you can hear how he beams by its lilting nature. Maybe he’s laughing at you, maybe he’s not, but you snap back regardless.

“ ... don’t act so surprised.”

“ You sound surprised.” He laughs.

“It’s different when I do it.” You say simply. “I just… I didn’t expect it. I didn’t even know we were close enough to–”

“Bullshit. You text her all the time.”

“A couple of times, Mig.” You correct him, trying to pin down a suitable response to give Lyla. You draw a blank. “I don’t want her to feel like she has to, or anything.”

He turns around, sleeves still rolled up. The look he gives makes you wither: one that could say about a million things. You think it means cut the crap , but he could just be constipated: you haven't quite mastered the art of reading Miguel O’Hara.

“Do you want to go?” He gets closer, hand flat on the counter next to your thigh.

You nod, and his hand creeps up and up.

Giving you a little smile, he shrugs. “Then go.”

It makes you shy. Bashful , even; and you’re wriggling as he squeezes the flesh. A hand on his forearm, and he’s close; so much so that all you can feel is the press of skin, and feel gentle breath fluttering past your cheek. You’re stuck underneath the gaze of his pretty lashes, and entranced at the way he licks his even prettier lips. A sudden thought seizes you - so heavy it makes your chest tight and leaden.

Oh. You want to kiss him.

In a moment, it’s gone. A broad palm nudges your thigh aside, and you’re shifting so he can reach the drawers just by your legs. You oblige, falling back into familiar routine.

Life moves on. Like Miguel said it would, and you find yourself entwined with the idea of time passing. Lying awake each night, picking out sand from underneath your fingernails, after clawing your way out of the hourglass. Steady, slow dregs; and it's tipped over each morning, restarting the clock.

The flowers disappear from the dining table. Miguel retreats into the folds and dark corners of your apartment; you see him less and less. Passing ships in the night, you seem to miss each other by a fraction of a second. All of a sudden he's busy , and all of a sudden you're swamped with work. You only see each other at night, looking out for the bits and pieces left as proof of life: sometimes he'll leave a hot flask out for you in the mornings, and you'll greet him with a cheesy soap in the evenings. If he's not leaving later and later after work, that is.

He looks tired, you note. Exhausted; prone to little yawns as you turn to him every now and then whilst watching on the couch. It's sweet, the way his frown has made way to a dopey smile, but it's frayed at the edges, tinged with something you can't quite place. You let him sleep that night, bringing pillows to lay his head on, and wrapping him up in that old blanket.

Girl's night creeps up on you. It shakes you by the shoulders when you collapse on the sofa after a long day – and you're rushing to get ready. There's no Miguel to make sly remarks or prod you into action, this time. You wonder what he'd say about what you're wearing; a leftover dress buried in boxes from your ex's apartment.

Short, tight, snug; it has you feeling glamorous – but you hope it doesn't look as fanciful as it feels. Too much; yet again, you're worried about being too much. Even though you're running a little late, you take the time to carefully apply makeup; something shiny on your lids, a dab of blush, and gloss slathered onto your lips. When you sling on little heels, and snatch a petite bag from the hooks near the door, there's barely enough time to catch that last glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Down and out you go, into a dusky night.

~~~

“I had to go through her manager– and wait, can you believe this girl has a fucking manager, now?” Lyla bats at MJ's shoulder, and the redhead laughs good-naturedly.

“It's not– she's exaggerating! My manager's just my mom, I swear.”

“It's a good thing, no?” You smile, taking a healthy swig of a brightly coloured cocktail.

“It means she is booked, and–” Lyla hiccups, raising an unsteady glass that threatens to tip. MJ straightens her elbow instinctually, before raising her own. “ – very busy .”

It's your turn to laugh, glass held high in the air. With a clink , there's a clash of crystal that's all but drowned out by the chatter in the upscale bar.

Somewhere fancy, courtesy of Lyla. One of those places that serves tiny portions in big, empty plates, a fusion of cultural food with white, upper class owners. No-doubt the result of summering somewhere in the ever-broad global South , Lyla had said slyly, under the lip of a menu.

There's powdered sugar on the rim of your flute. It dissolves on your tongue. You down the rest. Sickly sweet, and you wipe what drips onto your lips.

It has you checking your phone. Miguel hasn't called, not that you were expecting anything. Whilst Lyla and MJ talk, you scroll mindlessly through his chat; a smattering of one word answers. Missed calls. Unanswered messages.

" –what about you, babe?"

Your eyes snap back up to meet Lyla's, expectant.

"Uhhh…"

"Nevermind." Sharp eyes travel to your phone, and there's a flash of recognition. "Miggy said you're in school. He said you're gonna graduate early, this year."

"He said that?" You're confused. "I mean… I'm trying but it's not looking like that, right now."

She wags a finger, shaking her head like she's trying to remember something. "No, no, he seemed adamant. Said you're working hard, doing well."

"Doing better ." You correct her, shyly.

" Bullshit. " She says it the way Miguel does, and it makes you laugh. You see it now; he's the product of the people he loves. A kind of Frankenstein's monster, he's stitched together those bits and pieces; he's made himself beautiful. You wonder what piece of you he carries. If he even holds you that close to his chest.

"I bet you're doing amazing. " MJ finishes. Her smile is warm, and copper-coloured; it feels hazy and ambered in your little corner. "Better than me, anyways. I would rather die than go back to college."

"Back?" You ask.

"Oh, of course! You don't know." She giggles, leaning in like she's about to say something scandalous - the drink is clearly doing its job. Her next words are an exaggerated stage whisper. "I dropped out."

" Seriously? " You play along, with faux shock.

"...damn right she did." Lyla gives a drunken wave to a nearby waiter, asking for another glass of wine. Something expensive, she whispers, giving a deceptive smile.

"It just wasn't for me, I guess. I went because everyone around me was going, even Pete. Uhh, English Lit, or something. And it didn't… I–I mean it just wasn't–"

"It didn't click."

" Right!" She snaps her fingers. "It was too much. I didn't know what I was doing, I was 18, for God's sake. Think I stuck at it for a bit too long, honestly."

"...and the world didn't explode." You breathe.

MJ answers with a knowing nod. She chugs the rest of a crisp Mojito, raising the empty glass once more.

"To doing better ."

You're quick to follow. "To doing better."

Lyla frowns, looking for a glass that's tucked into the corner. The room must be spinning already, with the way she pats around for it. You nudge it towards her with an elbow, and she's raucous; crumpling into a fit of giggles.

One drink turns to two, two turns to three, and then four ; until you're ready to spill out onto the busy strip. When the waiter places a slip of paper into the centre, one with so many zeroes it makes your eyes bulge, you don't even have to pretend to reach for your wallet. Gleefully, Lyla picks up the bill, sliding a shiny Amex card onto the dish.

She's generous, you note, as she buys a bottle of wine to go when MJ picks up her bag. She's perceptive, too. You see it when MJ wrings her hands, still tipsy and stuttering in her heels as you pile onto the street. She's making apologies already - I've got an early start and need to see my May - but Lyla intercepts. There's the gentle clink of a bottle thrust into her hands, something expensive, and she kisses the apples of her cheeks before sending her off in a taxi.

Her own cheeks are ruddy, rosy with drink and she splits into a wide smile. The back of her hand comes up to your neck. Warm , she whispers, before linking arms with you like a schoolgirl off to do something they shouldn't.

Eventually, with shaky legs, you end up in a nightclub. She knows someone who knows someone, apparently, and you're ushered into a packed place just off 76th. Lights and pounding music, a flurry of limbs; you let the crowd take you in. If this is what it means to be a part of a whole; some writhing, heaving beast, to be more than your hand in someone else's and theirs in yours; then you could live here forever, you think. Forever, for the night, for the next ten minutes; you blink , and time passes.

You're having fun, you think. Letting the blood rush to your head, hips swaying to the music and you don't push away the quiet snap of a phone camera, nor it's red recording light. Dancing, singing, many seem to be pulled into orbit around you. This is how it works , pushed into an ebb and flow of people held together by broken lyrics and a thumping bassline. You let it wash over you, all-consuming, dragging yourself into murky depths.

You're in a booth, now, anchored by a dainty hand around your wrist. Pupils blown, she cups your face to inspect you, to figure out where you've gone. Someone's bought you a drink, there's a stranger's arm around your shoulders, but Lyla pushes them both away. Too much? It's a question, of which you shake your head firmly - lolling and with a distinct lack of fine motor skills - no. Not enough.

You blink. Bitter liquor hits your throat, and you chase the taste of somebody else's lips. A stranger, and even under the influence you know it doesn't feel right. Bile rises, and you're gone, clamping onto your stomach and trying not to hurl.

You blink. You're on the sidewalk, with a heavy head on someone's shoulder. The strap of your heels dig into your ankles and you fumble with it, trying to stop the road from spinning. Lyla holds you up, not much more up to task than you are.

A car pulls up, and at first you don't recognise it; entranced by shiny rims coming to a stop. You look up, still buried in Lyla's thick jacket; and you see it. You see him.

Miguel's wearing glasses. That's the first thing you notice, stumbling to your feet. Immediately, your face cracks into a dopey smile, leaning onto the lip of the open window. He gives you a once over, swallowing thickly, brows drawn.

Quiet chatter flys straight over your head. Lyla arguing, Miguel wagging a finger at her; but all you can see is him. It's like you've got blinkers on, tunnel vision making you focus on the curve of cheekbone, and the way his eyes scrunch up around black rims and glass.

You clamber into the backseat.

“Get in, Ly.”

The other woman seems resolute. “ M'not –”

“Did you take something?”

“Fuck you.” Flashing a middle finger, she wraps up her coat like a robe, walking away down the road.

He's adamant, driving up next to her. You keep your head on the glass where it's cool.

“Let me take you home. Please. ”

Frowning, she stops. When he leans over to open the passenger's side, she slips off her boots, and sidles in.

Their voices feel like a blur. You can barely register, only picking up half of the words hissed under their breath.

“... I called you, you can't give me a lecture…”

“...not fair, Lyla…. can't keep babysitting…”

“... fucking hypocrite… not the only one… I'm going through some shit…”

“...too far…. always taking it too…”

He drops her off outside of the apartment. From the backseat, you're sobering up; able to catch his heavy sigh as he watches her through the window. It's only when he sees her walk in does he turn to you, passing bottled water kept in the console.

“You want to come out to the front?”

You like the way he says it, for some reason. Any anger or frustration he had towards Lyla dissipates. He doesn't bring that into a quiet conversation with you.

He's too solemn, too serious, and so you clamber into the front over the console; limbs and legs everywhere, as obnoxiously as you can. A slight elbow to his chest, a hand clutching his shirt; you want to make him laugh. As you settle onto the seat, you see it: huffing dramatically, he gives you a small smile.

Miguel reverses back out onto the road.

You blink, and you're home. Legs still shaky, he helps you up the stairs, settling you onto the sofa. Car keys clink onto the dish by the door, and he slips off his coat – that brown one, your favourite, you think.

Fumbling with the strap of your heels, it must be too painful for him to watch as Miguel settles by your feet. His big, strong hands are surprisingly deft when he undoes the dainty buckle.

“Are you mad at me?” Meekishly, you watch and he shakes his head, not making eye-contact. Maybe it's the alcohol, but you're staring; looking for that light in his eyes amongst the dark room.

Now, he looks up. “What?”

“M'just looking.” You say, chewing the inside of your cheek as one shoe slips off. “ I'm not allowed to look?”

The other one comes off, and he hisses when he spots a little cut where the strap dug into your ankle. He can't help it, rolling it gently in his hands, trying to ease the pain with a massage.

“You wear glasses.” You say it softly, more to yourself than to anyone else. Giggling now, you cradle his face and he sits up. “I didn't know that.”

“ That's not – I've always worn glasses. You're just not paying attention.” He shrugs lazily, but he's smiling.

“Not true , Mig. I would've noticed.”

“You're drunk–”

“When it's you, I always pay attention.” Absent-mindedly, your hand curls into his hair. He keens . “Like… your hair's getting longer.”

Gently, he shakes out of your grip, getting up. “I know, I know. I need a haircut.”

“I like it.” Starry-eyed, you look up at him. “You're so pretty, Mig.”

It makes him heave. Still tipsy, your legs spread ever so slightly, hand taking his and pulling him closer. Placing his hand on your thigh, you let it trace up, up, up, catching at the hem of your short dress.

He practically caves in, collapsing next to you on the couch.

“You should–” His eyes are glassy as you ease yourself onto his lap. “ F-Fuck . You should go to bed, sweetheart.”

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you roll your hips, watching as he groans wantonly.

“But I'm not tired.” His hand ends up on your waist, applying just the right amount of pressure. Underneath, you can feel him stir, increasingly hard under loose sweats. “And you haven't touched me in weeks. ”

You're exaggerating, but it goes to his head anyway. He buries his head into the crook of your shoulder, whispering into the bare skin.

“I know, I know…”

“Just the tip, Miguel.” You're grinding your clit onto him, pussy barely covered by a thin thong. Whispered into the shell of his ear, you're a siren, honeyed words dangerously close to breaking him down. “Just the tip, and I promise , I'll let it go. Please , baby.”

Your dress rides up, and his hands come down to palm at your ass.

“ Please…” You're pleading, lips on his neck as he squeezes, forcing you down to hump directly over his cock.

“Oh, shit.” His hips jump once, twice; and then he stills, hands at your hips and ass to stop you.

Desperate, you whine, trying to fight against it. He doesn't let up, hand cradling your chin so you can look him in the eye.

“ Bed .” He says, shakily. “Not like this.”

He slips you off, noticeably adjusting his pants. Legs spread wide, head tipped back as he sighs; he looks delicious , and you're fighting off the urge to let him take you right there and then.

You stumble through the little hallway, pushing past some doors. Something clatters into your thigh, and you hear a dull thud as another thing falls to the floor. Frustrated, you strip down to your underwear, something light and lacy and it leaves very little to the imagination.

There's a bed, and you collapse on it; swimming in the silky sheets. It smells like him - musky and oaky and gentle - and you think you must be dreaming already. And then, you sit up, realising too late - this isn't your room.

Miguel wasn't too far off, hearing the thumping and clattering; hesitant as he opens the door. You're wrapped up like a present, spilling out of lingerie on his bed. He swallows, turning away to dig into his wardrobe, intending to pull out a baggy shirt for you.

“ Miguel .” You croak, but he ignores the want in your voice, so heavy it goes straight to his cock. “Miguel, please. ”

All his shirts blend together. He can't concentrate.

“Do you think I don't want it? Because I do, fuck, I need it. So bad, baby, please.” Your body heaves with a half sob.

Heart splintering, he turns. Finally, you meet his eye. You spread your legs.

“ Here. Right here .” You tap your clothed cunt with shaky fingers, pulling your thong to the side. His eyes drink it up, the way you glisten when your cunt eats up the fabric. You know he's watching, and you take advantage of it, circling your clit with the pads of two fingers. “Like this . When I touch myself, I think of you… d-did you know that?”

Swallowing roughly, he can't take his eyes off of you.

“What… What else?” He croaks.

“I think of your tongue, a-at my pussy. And your fingers… God. ” You slip a finger in, and he watches as your cunt clenches around it; gushing and sloppy. “Your l-lips. Meant it, before. When I said you were pretty. Want to sit on that pretty face and watch you melt– oh-h- fuck- ”

He wants to lick it up, all that slick that sluices from your hole. His mouth waters, just thinking about it.

“Put another one in, for me.” He says it low, sinking to his knees to watch you fuck yourself.

Nodding, you oblige.

“Does it feel good?”

“ Yes. ” You don't hesitate.

“Can you fit another one? Want to see how good she looks when she comes, sweetheart.”

Three fingers in, now, and he slides your thong a little further aside; reaching up to press his thumb to your clit. Light streams in from blinds cracked open and highlights your thighs perfectly. Nevertheless, he adjusts his glasses to make sure he doesn't miss anything.

The twitch of your leg, the way your hand cramps up, the way your lips curl into a delicious O - he sees it all, commits it to memory.

“ Faster , please.”

“ Doesn't –” You're frustrated, clearly chasing something that refuses to surface. “Not the same. Can't fucking reach. ”

He titters, nipping at your thighs and soothing the bites with the flat of his tongue.

“Poor baby. Will you let me help?”

Fervently, you nod, slipping out your fingers as he takes off his glasses. They're discarded, too foggy to be useful right now.

“Did I tell you to take them out?” He sighs and gestures for your hand. Wrapping his lips around them he sucks them clean, humming lightly. He pats your clit with a wet slap, content. “Put two fingers in, sweetheart.”

Doing as he says, your head feels full - cotton wool and bubble wrap, only able to focus on the pleasure building behind your clit. And when he slots two fingers in next to yours , it rips out a gravelly moan.

“ Here? ” He says dragging himself deeper, curling his fingers up. “Or is it… here? ”

You groan, limp against his hand as you feel impossibly full. It reminds you of the stretch of his cock; creaming around the base of his two fingers and yours. That wonderful curl as he pumps himself in and out, cupping your hand in the process to make sure you match his pace. He can feel your walls spasm around him, impossibly soft and velveteen.

“Can't say no to you,” His eyes are low, grunting as he palms himself roughly. “Even though… fuck … even though I should.”

It's wet, the slap slap slap of skin against skin echoing in his room. Miguel sits up, pressing his lips to your neck, and you take the opportunity to slip your other hand into his sweats. You start pumping, in time with his ministrations, eyes blown as you swipe your thumb over his weeping slit.

You know he likes it rough, and you jerk him into your palm; fast and hard and you watch as he matches your pace. Even now, you're competing, trying to catch the him up; to see who can make the other cum first.

You push back on his fingers, hips slotting against his, whispering nonsense into his neck. You're too fucked out to care; confessions you never thought would see the light of day. All the little things you like about him, things he says, things he does; and you don't even register the ochred flush smattered along the ridge of cheekbone.

He spills into your hand, and you're quick to follow; cumming around him as his fingers stutter in and out. It feels good , dangerously so, and has you pressing shaky kisses around his mouth, and nipping at his bottom lip.

He stills, but you're greedy, aching for more. You want him in you; seating his thick cock deep inside, painting your walls with hot cum, and pushing it back in with deft fingers. Every part of you is on fire, barely satiated by your heated foray.

You tip back onto the bed, and he joins you; caging you in with thick forearms, looking at you like you've stolen all the stars in the sky. That feeling , again, slams into your chest like a bullet. Messy hair, ruddy cheeks, hand gently tracing your jaw; he looks gone, and oh so soft. You want to kiss him ; and it's a thought that sticks, embedding itself somewhere you can't reach to dig it out.

“ Miguel .” You whisper, enough alcohol at the edges of your mind to stop thinking and spill your guts to him, unfiltered. “Are you sleeping with someone else?”

His eyes flit over your face before answering and he shakes his head.

“No. No. Just you. Only you.”

“ Don't believe you .” But you want to. So, so desperately. “Promise me?”

“I promise, sweetheart.” He swallows. “Are you?”

“No. Don't think I could if I tried.” It comes out watery, stuck at the back of your throat.

He just looks, for a moment, cradling the back of your head.

“I want to kiss you.” It spills out from your lips.

“I know.”

“Then why won't you kiss me?”

“Not a good idea.” He strains, kissing your forehead, and then each cheek. Hesitating, he places a gentle peck to your chin. “Ask me tomorrow.”

He says it simply, too easily; and it makes you want to sob. When Miguel slips away, and you hear the sound of a light turned on in the bathroom, you can't move. Catatonic; you blink, and he's cleaned you up, and slipped a shirt over your shoulders. Laying back in his bed, you watch as he lingers by the doorway, shrouded in shadow.

Goodnight. Y ou think you say it out loud, but it echoes in your head.

He says back, but not really. Instead, he leaves that goodnight hanging by the doorway like an old coat, and you wrap it over your shoulders.

It keeps you a little warmer through the night.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #angst #heavy angst #mutual pining

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patrophthia · 1 year

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red ears, and redder strings | theodore n.

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: red string soulmate!au, fluff, slight humor, slight very slight angst, confused feelings, unrequited love but also not really?, not beta read

wc: 7.2k

this is a request ! thank you anon!! it’s so cute i loved writing this :>

there’s two OC, one of them is named mark, hufflepuff (based off of nct mark, i love that lil canadian guy) and elio. i also wrote theodore based off of nct’s jaehyun and sungchan hehe.

taglist: @mersmoon @pleasingregulus @l--absinthe

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let faith decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guards by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laugh at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impress. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Tug. Tug. Tug. Blaise has been tugging at Theodore's pinky for the last five minutes now. Doing it over and over just to get a rise out of the brunet. But Theodore, quite honestly, couldn't care less as he watched the string tied around his pinky finger bounce with each pull of Zabini's hand.

Blaise, like the menace he is, enjoys bothering his best friend by pulling at the red string of his, but seeing as he couldn't actually see the string, the Slytherin has settled with just laying on Theodore's bed and repeatedly pulling at his pinky which sported the string instead.

"Honestly Nott, why are you so against finding your soulmate? We both know they're in this school so why won't you just make the effort to find them?" Blaise asks, pulling at his pale pinky once more. "Here I am, balls deep into finding mine and I find out that they're all the way in Durmstrang. Do you realise just how lucky you are?"

"Zabini stop," their other dorm mate, Elio, tsked. "Maybe he's just not ready to find them yet."

Blaise turns from his position on Theodore's bed to look at Elio. Retorting, "or maybe he just doesn't want to find them?"

"And that's okay," Elio replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure he has a reason."

Blaise's attention shifts back to Theodore. "And that is?"

Theodore clears his throat, "I just don't want one."

Blaise squints his eyes, "uh huh," he lets out in disbelief. "Somehow I don't believe that."

"Okay," he murmurs, "I just don't like the concept of soulmates."

"And that's all to it?" Elio asks, fixing his tie as he listens into Theodore and Blaise's conversation.

"Yes." And when neither Blaise nor Elio seemed to believe him, he added. "And I'm tired of people pretending to be my soulmate despite the fact that I could clearly see they aren't."

"People have done that?" Elio asked, perplexed at the complex.

"For the right price people would do anything." Theodore mumbled, and when he noticed that Elio was heading out the door, he asked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm meeting Mark at the library," Elio says with a blissful smile. "I'll see you at dinner."

When Elio finally leaves, Blaise turns to Theodore with a dumbfounded look. "Mark?"

Theodore feels his pinky being pulled once more. "His soulmate."

On the other side of the castle, Mark watches as I throw my head on the table —albeit, dramatically, a groan slipping from my lips. Mark giggles, his nose scrunching along with it as he asks me what was wrong.

I lift my left hand up and into his line of sight, his giggles turning into a full blown laugh as my pinky pulls itself over and over in the same direction. "They're doing it again?"

"They're doing it again," I mumbled, lifting my head back up to look at my finger. "It's so annoying. I'm going to punch their face in the second I see them."

"That's a bit extreme," Mark says lightly. "Just tell them to stop doing it or something."

"Why do that when I can result to violence." I replied, tugging at the string as a sign for them to stop. "They do it all the time, it's so irritating."

"Well at least you know they're close by," Mark states, going back to his book. "Or else you wouldn't be able to even feel their pulls."

"Yeah." I nodded. "I guess that's something."

"What?" Mark asks, sensing a slight shift in the atmosphere. "Do you not want to find them?"

I shrug, "not really."

"Why not?" Mark follows up, abandoning his work completely.

"I just think that I shouldn't let the universe decide on who I spend the rest of my life with, is all," I say. "I want to make that decision myself."

Mark nods, humming, "I see where you're coming from." Understanding as ever. "But I also think it's nice that there's someone out there who will always be by your side no matter what, whether it be platonic or romantic, you know?"

"But that's not guaranteed, is it?" I counter. "I've heard stories where people found their soulmates but they didn't care for one another at all. I mean, at the end of the day, soulmates can't actually be soulmates if one doesn't reciprocate the other's feelings. So why try finding them at all if you're going to find out that they want nothing to do with you?"

"But what if they do," Mark argued.

"But what if they don't."

Mark sighs, "and if they do?"

"And if they don't—"

"Hi." I was cut off. "Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," says Elio, eyes wide and apologetic. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Soulmates actually," Mark says with a smile, his pupils dilating at the sight of Elio. "Why are you here?"

Mark and Elio found out that they were each other's soulmate on the train ride over. Elio couldn't find his friend's carriage on the Hogswart Express and we were lucky enough to have empty space for the Slytherin.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me," Elio says. "And I also wanted you to meet my friends."

Who were, if I remembered correctly, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott.

"Oh," Mark glances at me, then back at Elio. "This afternoon?"

"Yeah," Elio nodded. And I sense that he wanted to add 'when else' but held back against it. "At the Slytherin table, Is that okay?"

"Sure," Mark says, nodding quickly. "I'll see you."

Elio breaks into a smile, bidding a goodbye as he turns on his heels. "You're coming with me," Mark says the second Elio was far enough to not overhear us. "No arguments."

Two Hufflepuffs sitting idly chatting with four well known Slytherins must've been a weird sight for anyone that passes by. But Mark was having a fun time and that's all that matters.

Or to me at least. Mark sat to my left, with Elio sitting opposite him. Zabini was on my right, with Malfoy in front of him; leaving Nott right in front of me.

"Are you taking potions?" Zabini asks, trying to make conversation, seeing as Mark and Elio were the only people in this table who actually knew one another.

"Yep," I replied, placing my utensils down. "Are you?"

"The four of us are," Malfoy snickered. "At least there's two more tolerable people in that class with us."

Glad to know Malfoy found Mark and I tolerable. "So . . ." I drew out, thinking of anything we could chat about. "What did you guys do this summer?"

"Blaise dragged us to Europe to find his soulmate," Malfoy answered bitterly.

"Oh." The better part of me was intrigued, wanting to know if he did find them. I turned to Zabini beside me. "Did you find them?"

"No," he says, a slightly disappointed look on his face. "Too many students at Durmstrang and too little time."

"Well there's always next year," I say, trying to encourage him.

Zabini hums in agreement. "What about you? Have you found yours yet?"

Elio called out my name before I could answer his friend, and when I turned to him, he held out a goblet filled with pumpkin juice for me to take. Reaching for the glass, I felt a tug at my pinkie but paid no heed to it as I took the goblet from Elio's hand. Resting it on the table, my eyes caught onto a twinkle of red glowing right in front of me.

With furrowed brows, my line of sight found its way to the seat opposing mine, and along with it, the person who took the spot. Red string wrapped around his left pinkie, just like mine. Glowing slightly under the candle light.

Realisation settles in as I slowly look up at Nott, taking in his blank wide eyed expression that seemed to be processing the same information as I was.

Just to be sure, my hand reaches upwards to rub at my eyes before my vision falls back once more to my left pinkie, then the red string that connects me to the boy right in front of me.

Theodore Nott was my soulmate.

"Can you pass me the salt?" Malfoy asks Nott from his side, causing the brunet to break out of his trance.

Our eyes met for the briefest second, unspoken understanding warming up within me. And when Nott shifts his attention to where the salt currently resides, the tip of his ears shined as red as the string tethering us to one another.

The Marauders map is a great stalker tool to have. I didn't have it per se, but I knew people who did and they were kind enough to lend it to me when I needed it. I owe Harry a favour for this.

My eyes glance between the footsteps on the map tagged: Theodore Nott, and the corridor in front of me. Trying to be as quiet as I could with each corner I turn, if I were to get caught chasing some guy who seemed to be coming my direction at eleven P.M at night then who knows the kind of punishment I would get.

Theodore was walking with purpose when I found him. He walked with enough purpose for me to need to jog after him just to catch up. A hand latches onto his wrist, pulling him into one of the many secret corridors Hogswart held.

"Hi," I said breathlessly, panting as I watched him decide between fighting or flighting. He seemed to have found me harmless, settling on just gazing down at me instead. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."

There were many things he didn't say, just observing as I tried to calm myself down. I noticed a few things then about him, he was tall, lanky even, his doe eyes and hair the direct contrast of his pale skin, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut through wood.

"Uhm—" I stood up to my full height and found that I had to peer up at him. Freakishly tall motherfucker. "—I'm not going to waste your time by beating around the bush, so I'm just going to spill it."

"Actually I needed to have a word with you," he murmurs. And I have to reel myself over because that must've been the first time I heard him speak.

"Well, I found you first so I speak first," I tell him with a tight lip smile. "You can speak after okay? Okay."

His eyes squinted and I could tell that he was frustrated with not being able to get his words in.

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let fate decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guard by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laughed at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impressed. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Platonic soulmates. That's what Theodore and I decided on. Well not really, Theodore had brought up the idea of cutting our soulmate ties completely with a spell he'd found but the Hufflepuff in me couldn't actually go through with the idea so we decided on platonic soulmates. Or just classmates who are hiding a secret that would blow up in their faces if anyone found out.

Hogsmeade weekend came faster this year; Mark and I (along with four other Slytherins who'd found their way into our friend group) were lucky enough to make the trip.

It hasn't begun snowing yet, although the weather sure felt like it. The temperature was warmer this morning, which was why I found it unnecessary to bring my jacket, and now, in hindsight, I see that that was a terrible idea.

It was getting late, and the weather was not getting warmer at all. "Dude, are you okay?" Mark asks. Dude must sound weird to the other four pure bloods. But dude, to me, was Mark showing that he cared for me. "You've been shivering for the past five minutes."

"I'm fine," I say, a clear lie and we all know it. "I'll just cast a warming spell, don't worry."

Mark's brow furrowed, "are you sure? Here—" he shrugs off his coat, "—just wear mine."

I didn't have to look around to know that the four Slytherin were watching us. And under any other circumstances I would gladly take Mark's jacket, but that was a somewhat intimate thing to do. Especially in front of his soulmate, so, like the civilised person I am, I shook my head and cast a warming spell on myself.

"Dude stop being stubborn, you're literally freezing."

"And I look good doing it so just take your coat, Mark." I argued.

"Okay then." He sighs. "If that's what you want."It's not. Mark pulls his coat back on as he continues walking down the Hogsmeade streets with the rest of us behind him and Elio. "So where should we go next?"

A grasp on my elbow, takes my attention away from Malfoy's answer to Mark's question. I look down, finding slim hands holding onto me. My gaze trails upward to find Theodore who had halted both our steps as he shrugs off his coat.

The brunet nudges it forward, wordlessly offering it for me to take. And when I shook my head, feeling uneasy at the prospect of making him suffer the harsh weather if I did take his jacket. He insists: "It's fine," he says, nudging it forward once more, the red string on his pinkie clear as ever. "I run hot."

"And is cold blooded," Zabini snickered to receive a glare from Nott. I stifled a giggle, finally feeling at ease with the two of them. Zabini's demeanour seems to soften at my half assed attempt to hide a laugh, and tells me to: "Just take it."

Okay. Fine. I will take it. The cold was biting my ass anyways. I reached out for the jacket but was pleasantly surprised when Nott helped me into it instead. "Thank you," I murmured.

Theodore, or at least his coat, smells like a combination of things that I could only assume he likes; things like: the sea, books whether it be old or new, earl grey tea, bearded irises, and vanilla.

Nott only hums at my gratitude, listening back into Mark's conversation with Malfoy.

"You never did tell me whether you found your soulmate yet," Zabini says suddenly. "Have you?"

"No," I answered, and unlike earlier, he actually believes in this lie of mine. "And I'm not really looking for one either."

"Funny," Blaise says with a mischievous smile. "That's what Nott also said." Not exactly, but it was something along that line. "Are you sure you're not each other's soulmate?"

From the corner of my eyes, I spy the tip of Theodore's ears flushing. The pink contrasting his dark features adorably. His face showed no emotion, his brown doe eyes rolling with feign annoyance. "I'm pretty sure I'd know my soulmate if I saw them as often as I see her, Zabini."

"Wish it were that easy," I mumbled, adding onto the illusion of us not being tied to each other. "I'll let you know when I find out who they are though."

"Really?" He says testingly.

"If you're so invested in it then yes."

He smirks, "let's hope you keep your promise then, princess."

Little did Zabini know, his promise had already been broken.

Faith must've been playing some kind of sick joke. I knew that I'd be taking potions with the four Slytherin, but for me to be studying a love potion on the first day I had class with my 'soulmate' was just plain evil.

And I think, something along the lines of Professor Slughorn making Nott and I be the first to take a gander at the potion, to smell it and to describe what it smelled like to us, was even more cruel.

A glance at Nott, and another at the brewing pot in front of us, had me taking in a deep breath as I prepared myself for what's to come. I took a step forward, Nott to my side, and leaned forward to take a sniff at the potion.

The first round of scents were pleasant, home cooked meals, the smell of my clean room after a tiring day, my favourite snack and the likes of it. Then the second waft of the potion hits and I wondered whether it was what I was actually attracted to or what I was supposed to be attracted to since all I could smell was nothing but Nott.

Or at least the scent of his coat; sea salt, books, vanilla and a hint of his (what I think is) argan oil shampoo, which I assumed I could only smell because he was so close by.

"So?" Professor Slughorn egged us on with a smile. "Tell us what you smell."

Nott and I shared a look and I knew then that we could only smell one another. "The sea," I took the initiative to speak first. "Vanilla."

"Is that all?" Asks the Professor. "Is there a special someone you smell?"

Yes. Is what I didn't say, only shaking my head as I nudged at Nott's side for him to speak next.

"I'm sorry Professor but I couldn't really smell anything." Nott says barely above a whisper.

Professor Slughorn's furrowed his brows in concern. Did Nott not have something he loved? "Nothing at all?"

"Not really," the Slytherin murmurs. "I could only smell her."

Her?

Oh.

Me. I'm her.

Okay.

"Really?" Slughorn murmurs, clearly fascinated. "Well isn't that interesting?"

Nott only hums, moving away from the pot and as I turned with him, my eyes caught onto the pink tinged on his ears. Cute.

I couldn't even take a step towards my desk when Zabini swept me away, Malfoy by his side. Zabini smiles widely at my curious expression, and I wonder for a second if Nott has broken his promise and told them about our secret. Cautiously, I asked him. "What?"

"We need a favour."

"No." Was my first and final answer. Zabini only frowns, not the slightest bit faltering his quest. "I need you to steal Theodore away for a day." He says, instead. I shook my head, repeating myself, "No."

"Oh come on," Blaise pouts, "his birthday's this Sunday and we want to throw him a small surprise party."

"Which won't be a surprise if he was there," Malfoy adds unnecessarily.

"Why can't you be the one to distract him or whatever you're planning on making me do?"

"Because he'll suspect it," Malfoy answers with a roll of his eyes. "Nott's smart, he'll get suspicious of us."

"And he won't get suspicious of me?" I retorted.

"I haven't thought that through actually," Blaise murmurs. "But! We need all hands on deck to plan the party and fill it up with things he likes."

"And I can't help with that?" I ask.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "What do you know about Nott?"

That he is my soulmate. But besides that, quite literally nothing. Okay. One point to Malfoy and Zabini, I guess. I sigh, slowly accepting my defeat. "What about Mark?"

"Mark's going to help us set up with Elio."

"Why can't you ask for the house elves to set it up for you?"

"Why can't you stop asking us questions?" Malfoy snaps.

I turn to the blond, my expression sour. "Hey you're the one asking me for a favour here, I don't think you can afford to be a bitch to me right now."

Malfoy rolls his eyes again, more attitude than ever. "So you're going to do it?"

"I never said—"

"Great!" Blaise cuts me off. "Have Theo out by ten A.M and have him back by six P.M, okay?" He says excited, and yet not loud enough for Nott, who had been sitting three desks away from our conversation to hear. "Okay! And if you guys do anything, please use protection we're way to young to have kids—"

"Oh fuck off." With a chuckle, Zabini finally leaves me alone, dragging Malfoy with him. With the two Slytherins no longer in sight, my eyes drift towards the only empty desk left and make my way towards it.

One, two, table passes, until I finally reach an empty seat and I find myself meeting eyes with Theodore. His face remains stone cold as ever, only looking at me blankly. He didn't have to say it for me to know that was curious about what his friends had said to me.

Setting my stuff down, I sat beside him and I found myself mustering up the courage to go through with Zabini and Malfoy's favour. "Hey," I start, Nott now giving me his undivided attention. "Do you want to go out this weekend?"

His expression changes for the slightest second that if I hadn't been watching him, I'd have missed it. "I thought we agreed on keeping it platonic."

"Yeah," I agreed quickly. "And that's not going to change anytime soon. Think of this as us bonding as platonic soulmates."

He guessed he owed me that, which was why he stood outside of the Hufflepuff's Common Room idly, waiting for me to come out and get on with our soulmates bonding day.

A smile came across my lips when I spotted him, looking as out of place as possible. "Hi," I said, going up to him. Theodore didn't bother replying, only standing tall as he waited for me to lead the way.

The ride to Hogsmeade was awkward —as to be expected from two people who knew little to nothing about one another. Theodore climbed out of the carriage first, offering a hand to help me off of the ride.

Before we began our journey, Theodore caught onto my wrist with his right hand, his left reaching for his wand and wordlessly, he casted a warming up spell on me.

"Thank you." I'd be lying if I said that it didn't have an effect on me. "So where should we go?"

His lips pursed, thinking. "You didn't plan anything?"

"Not really." This favour was a last minute thing, I didn't have time to actually plan things out. "I thought we could just walk around and look at things."

Theodore wasn't the easiest to read, but I knew from the shift in his features that he was judging me. He then nudges his head to the side. "Let's get you something to eat."

Theodore took me to a bakery by the end of Hogsmeade, the shop was heavily vanilla scented, people coming in and out every second. Nott ordered a vanilla danish, then another when he looked at my face.

I ordered my pastries, and reached into my bag for the sickles I needed. Before I could actually get it out though, Theodore was already pulling me to the side, mumbling a "don't bother" as the next customer made their order.

I frown, handing out the few sickles I owed towards him, he took a glance at my hand, then back to my face. "What did I just say?"

"I can't just let you pay for me."

He didn't say anything, but his expression alone suggests that he won't be taking my money anytime soon.

"Seriously, dude, I can't just let you pay for me."

"Let's go," Theodore deflects, taking a parcel filled with our purchases when the shop's clerk handed it out to us.

I followed after him, not before attempting to shove my money into his pockets and failing to do so when he shifted away from me. "You're being rude."

"Oh I'm being rude?" Theodore scoffs, and I think that that must've been the first time I hear real emotions in his voice. "For paying for you?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Paying for someone is only nice when they want you to pay for them."

"Well," he murmurs. "What's so wrong with me paying for you when you want me to pay for you."

"Don't gaslight me!"

Theodore smiles at my word, a small laugh bubbling out of him. "I'm doing no such things." And then, he adds in a mocking manner, "dude."

What an ass.

I led Theodore towards The Three Broomsticks, if he wasn't going to take my money then I'll just have to get him something in return. I ordered two butterbeers as he began unwrapping our pastries.

He handed mine to me and dug into his vanilla danish. A minute passes, the two of us eating in silence and I wondered if I should've just taken him to a movie instead, maybe then it'd be less awkward.

The butter beer arrives and I took a sip, wiping my lips with the back of my hand right after. "You have a little something—" my finger points towards my upper lips "—there."

He made quick work in wiping it off, eyes casting down as he turned his head to pick up a tissue paper. His red ears made a reappearance then, embarrassed as ever.

After we finished our meals, Theodore excuses himself as he heads towards the bathroom. I think then that this was the perfect opportunity; I called out to one of the shop's clerks and when they approached, I asked for the check.

The shop clerk, an elderly lady, frowns, "what are you talking about, love? Your boyfriend already covered it."

What? "I'm sorry, you must've gotten me mixed up with another table, I haven't paid yet."

"No?" She frowns. "The brunet, pale, about ye height—" the woman gestures over her head "—isn't with you?"

With me, yes. Boyfriend, no. "Did he pay?"

"Yes," she smiles, "just a second ago really."

If I could scream out of frustration I would. I glared at Theodore when he returned, he seemed to know what had happened as he walked with pride.

"You're not as smart as you think you are," he says, grabbing his things. "I knew what you were thinking."

"Well." I stood up, gathering my things as well. "What am I thinking right now?"

"What an ass I am." Smart ass.

"Lucky guest." I murmur.

"Is it now?" He replied testingly, taking my things from my hands.

I squint my eyes, looking at him threateningly. "I will destroy you, Theodore Nott."

"I'd like to see you try." The amount of stuff in his hands made him look ridiculous, walking out of the inn with little to no expression at all when he adds: "soulmate."

I returned Theodore to his friends by six, having snuck into the ladies room to send a patronus to Mark before doing so. Not a minute goes by when his patronus returns, a cheetah opening up its mouth to cheerfully say: "Okay dude, We're ready for you!"

I did what was asked of me and brought him to the room of requirements, Theodore trailed after me, clearly confused but never uttering a word about it.

Once we arrived in front of the door, I turn to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me today was your birthday?"

He blinks. "It wasn't important."

"Your birthday isn't important to you?"

"No." He murmurs. "Why are we here?"

I push the door open, and it takes him a few seconds to realise what had happened. Elio jumps out, Mark by his side screaming as loudly as they could "happy birthday!"

Theodore stares at them for a bit before turning to me, "is that why you spent the day with me?" He asks first. "They put you up to this?"

If I heard disappointment in his tone, I didn't let it get to me. Mustering up a small smile, I push him towards his friends. "Enjoy your party, Theo."

Elio and Blaise swept him away, pulling him towards one of the corners where the snacks were placed. My expression must've been telling, of what exactly, I didn't know. But Mark seems to notice it, asking me in a quiet hush. "Are you okay?"

I nod distractedly. "Yup, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Mark frowns, "you look a little off."

I smile at him. Mark knows me better than I knew myself. "I'm fine," I reassured him, "just a little tired."

"Okay," Mark says, leaving it at that with a sceptical look. "Let's get you something to drink."

"Was today just a ruse to get me away from the castle?"

Theodore had found me an hour after we arrived, looking distracted as ever when he handed over a slice of cake he'd saved for me.

"What?"

"You didn't actually want to bond with me, did you?"

I thought over my options, should I lie to him or just let him know the truth. Deciding on the latter, I tell him: "yeah, Zabini and Malfoy asked me to—" the clench in his jaw caught my attention "—wait, are you upset?"

Truthfully, Theodore says, "yes."

To say I was baffled was an understatement. "Why? What's wrong? Do you not like the party?"

"No," he counters. "It's not the party, the party's fine."

A beat passes by, Theodore hesitating. And then, finally, he says. "It's you."

"Me?" Have I done something to upset him? "Did I say something—"

"I thought you wanted to spend the day with me."

"I'm sorry." I'm not sure why exactly I was apologising but it felt like the right thing to do. "But to be fair, you didn't actually want to spend the day with me, did you?"

He avoids my eyes and I knew then that things can no longer be platonic. "I think you should leave before I do something idiotic."

"Like?"

"Kiss you."

How does one respond to that? His ears aren't red this time round. The look on his face is torn between hesitancy and distress. And I was stupid enough to reach up to him, a palm cradling his face, meeting his dark eyes.

A second passes and when he doesn't make to move away, I stand up to the tip of my toes and press my lips onto his. Theodore leans down, easing the strain of my neck as he kisses back without missing a beat.

A bump of the nose causes us to pull back, looking at one another with wide blown eyes before a subtle glow catches our attention. Tied to our pinkies, the string glows red, a shot of spark passing from his end towards mine only for it to lose its light when none comes from my side to ignite it.

What the spark means exactly, I didn't know. But I will not spend another second waiting around to see what it might meant. "That was a mistake," I say quickly, gathering my things. "Goodnight, Theodore."

I didn't know why I didn't notice it at first, but as I walked away, slice of cake in hand; the feel of plastic beneath the cake caught me off guard. I bring it into my eyesight, a vanilla danish neatly wrapped with a note attached to its side.

It seems like you've got me wrapped around your finger. Do me a favour and don't let it linger.

Blaise had a theory. And that theory consists of his two friends who had yet to find their soulmates. Or so they say.

Gathered around the room of requirement were the same people who attended Theodore's birthday party, give or take five people less.

Blaise stands in the middle of the room, the rest of us lounging on the sofa as we watch him speak. "Come here you," he points at Theodore, then he turns to me, "you as well."

My nerves gets the better part of me, causing me to glance at Theodore for help despite knowing that we were both drowning in the same boat. Did Blaise know about us being soulmates? Did Theodore tell him about it? Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.

"You two," he says loudly. "Have been lying to us!" And then, a few notches down, he adds, "I think."

My brows furrowed, feigning innocence. "How so?"

Like a magician, he lifts up his hand dramatically, then grabs Theodore's pale hand in it. And in my eyes, the string was as visible as ever. I think I know where he was going with this and there's nothing to prepare me for what's to come next.

"Pay attention to her fingers okay?" Blaise instructs. I feel faint, dizzy, all the adjectives for nauseousness as each second passes by. "Her soulmate pinkie to be exact."

This is it. This is when they find out and Mark hates me for the rest of his life because I didn't tell him I'd found my soulmate.

Mark frowns, his bottom lips caught in his teeth as he watches on sceptically.

Blaise pulls at Theodore's pinkie, the same exact motion he'd done on end for the last couple of months. And, just like it had before, my finger pulls to Theodore's direction. Blaise pulls at it again and the same set of motions repeats itself.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Elio spoke first.

"Well," I began, everyone's attention turning to me. "Because, it's not your fucking business." Mark stifles a laugh at my words. "Theodore and I chose to keep it a secret for a reason."

"And that reason is?" Malfoy chimes in.

I didn't have to say anything for Theodore to know what I wanted them to know. "We didn't want soulmates."

"And now?" Blaise follows up. "Do you still not want soulmates?"

"Honestly?" I say. "I don't know."

It takes Theodore five seconds to note Mark's arrival at the Slytherin table. And it takes him another three seconds to notice that I wasn't there with them.

Mark chats animatedly with Elio, not once pausing to explain my lack of appearance at tonight's dinner.

Maybe they've grown too fond of me, or maybe Blaise likes me more than Theo thought he did, because he was quick to ask Mark where I was. "Doll's, not having dinner with us tonight?"

"No." Mark didn't even bat an eyelash at the pet name Blaise used. "She caught a cold and asked me to bring her something when I get back."

Theodore eyebrow's knit together curiously. "She's not in the infirmary?"

If the people at the table noticed the hint of concern in his voice, they didn't show it. Well —everyone except Mark that is. A gasp falls from his lips, staring at Theodore with wide eyes. Did he fancy his best friend?

Mark catches himself, shaking his head as he explained. "She said that it was just a common cold and that it'll go away soon. She didn't want to waste Madam Pomfrey's time when she could be focusing on something more pressing."

And when Theodore's eyes narrows. Mark feels the need to clarify himself. "Her words, not mine."

Theodore stands up then, excusing himself as he tells Mark not to worry about me and that he'll get something for me to eat. Mark didn't even get a chance to remind him about my meds before he slipped away and into the kitchens.

Mark didn't stress over it though, something in him knew that Theodore would not forget my medications.

A set of knocks lands on my door, approximately fifteen minutes later. And with a groggy "come in" from my bed; the door clicks open, Theodore standing behind it with a tray of food floating behind him.

"Theo?" I rub my eyes, unsure of what I was seeing. "What are you doing here?"

"Mark tells me you're sick." Did he? "So I brought you dinner." That's ... nice of him to do.

Theodore stands awkwardly by the door, not stepping an inch into a room. A part of me wonders if he was a vampire, waiting to be formally invited in before he could actually do anything. "You can come in."

The tray of food floats over first, resting just on top of my bedside table. Theodore follows in after it, staying a few feet away from my bed. "Wait, who let you in? Through the barrels and stuff?"

"No one in particular." He says. "They left the entrance open."

That was the hufflepuff way of doing things.

"Well thank you." My palm lays flat on my bed, pushing all of my body weight to a seating position. "For this. I know you'd rather spend the night doing something more fun than doing Mark a favour."

Theodore frowns, coming over to my side. "Mark didn't ask me to do this," he tells me; his hand carefully reaching for my arm, the other pressing against the small of my back to help me sit up properly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

My attempt to resist teasing him was futile, even sick and on the verge of dying, I still think that Theodore's reaction to things —if there was one that is— was adorable. "Awh, did you miss me?"

Theodore didn't bother to say no. He didn't have to, it was clear by the hesitant look on his face that he did miss me. Even if I'd only just seen him yesterday.

"You should eat," he says instead, the glimpse of his tinging red ears not missed by me when he handed me a glass of water. "Drink this, eat, then take your medications."

A roll of my eyes paired with an 'I know' has him standing straight. And somehow, I get the feeling that he thinks he might've overstepped my boundaries. Not knowing what to say —or do for that matter, I settled on telling him: "thank you, again. I really appreciate it, Theo."

Theodore hums and we could both sense that our conversation was ending, but, strangely enough, despite never knowing what to say in front of him, I can't seem to just let him slip away tonight.

A glance at the tray Theo brought, then another back at him, had me asking a question I might be regretting minutes later. "Have you eaten, Theo?"

His eyes fell down onto my hand, the floor, anything but my face. The corner of his lips twists, a small dent in his cheek barely hiding his attempt to bite back a smile. He knew where I was going with this. "No."

A shift to the side, a pat on the empty seat besides me. "Good." I say first. "We can share."

The string tied to our pinkie glows, and this time, unlike the first, the sparks meets in the middle, igniting brighter than it has ever done before.

Being sick gave me a lot of time to reflect. And even more time for me to realise that me saying 'I don't know' complicates things. Everyone seems to be walking around eggshells when the topic of Theodore and I came up and quite frankly I'm fucking tired of it.

Theodore likes me. We're soulmates. This should be easy. I know how I feel, I can make things work.

Like feels childish. Love feels too strong. Infatuated is what I'm not when it comes to Theodore. I care for him the same way he cares for me. That should say something shouldn't it?

What I recently learned about Theodore is that he takes up an entire table at the library. Just him alone, and the whole table that would usually host four students all because he works in a mess.

"Uhm—" he looks up at me. "—can I sit here?"

He nods and turns back to his book. Not moving a single thing to the side. I sigh, organising his mess to one side and making a mental note to tell him off about it later. But for now, I ought to get my feelings sorted out.

"I wanted to talk to you," I say first. Theo hums, signalling that he was listening to me. "Can you look at me, please?"

He looks up from his page and shoved his book to the side, giving me his full undivided attention.

"I thought about it and I don't want to be platonic soulmates anymore," I tell him.

He looks in thought. "So you came here to say that you want to sever the soulmates connection?"

"No!" I say quickly, eyes wide. "No, not that. At all."

He seems to know what was going to come next, the corner of his lips turning upwards but he stops himself, not wanting to get too excited. "What is it then?"

"I care for you," I tell him. "And if you still care for me, I want to give this soulmate thing a shot."

His eyes soften. "Of course, I still care for you." He replies. "And I'm assuming by care you mean love?"

I pursed my lips, going over what I wanted to say and being careful with how I choose to phrase it. Finally, I decided on: "Not love per se," I say first. "Just us taking a step towards it."

" 'course not," he replies. "Baby steps, right?"

"Right," I say, feeling awkward under his gaze. "Baby steps." And then, I added. "Now if we're going to make this soulmate thing work out we need to actually go out."

He nods. "I'll take you to dinner on Friday then."

"Sure." A smile creeps onto my face. "It's a date." The tip of his ears reddens at my words, cute as ever. "I can't wait to see your cute little butt then."

Theodore fixes me a look between amused and judging, he breaks after a bit, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Incredulously he says, "I can't believe I'm in love with you."

"Woah there dude, you're moving a little fast," I said with a small smile. "Slow it down a bit, will you?"

"Too late, my love." And if I had a small liking towards the guy, my feelings were definitely amplified by his stupidly dumb sense of humour. "I've already gotten your name tattooed on my buttocks."

— from bee: i havent wrote in so long, this was so fun!! i always love writing theo so this was just a blast hehe

notes/reblog/feedbacks are greatly appreciated!!

#theodore nott humor #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott scenarios #Spotify #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #🧳: my writing

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chikai-k · 4 months

Text

We Need A Break.

•| Kaveh X Male Reader, hints of Alhaitham X Kaveh

•| Notes: So angst with the characters as parents right? I haven't written in a long time and all so this might be a bit janky in terms of execution. I feel like the ending is a little awkward but it's whatever, I just wanted to get something out 😞 It was originally gonna be Aether since my debut was an Aether fic but I decided I wanted to add my bbg Kaveh to my list of characters hehe also wrote this at 3-4am :)

•| CW: Kaveh is the baby momma🤧, male reader, cheating accusations, arguments, break? divorce?

Here we go.

It's unhealthy to subject your daughter to this.

She doesn't deserve to hear your problems.

You and Kaveh have tried everything in your power to keep the issue away from her attention, to make sure she can't see the cracks forming.

How Kaveh would tuck her to bed, holding back a grimace as he spots the time. He tries his best to stall, she can tell. Kaveh doesn't want to leave her side. How his sweet voice would read her bed time stories as slowly as he could, sometimes staring at her with soft eyes as he presses a goodnight kiss on her forehead. She is his baby. He loves her with every part of his being.

She knows something's wrong. She could sense it before but you two can't keep quiet when the arguments get heated downstairs. She can hear you two from the floor. She can hear you throwing accusations, hear the crack in Kaveh's voice when he says he's not seeing his co worker—but you just won't drop it.

"I see the way you two look at each other." You say, "I see the way you guys give subtle touches." You know that they're probably texting each other about things to do when you're working. "The neighbours themselves have testified that they've seen Alhaitham enter our home when I'm at work for fucks sake! Stop lying to me." You growl, teeth baring at him as your face is flushed in anger, fist clenching by your side.

Kaveh hiccups and shakes his head, "Please, I'm telling you, we're not! Why won't you believe me?" His hand is gripping his wrist and is tucked close to his chest as if protecting himself. He doesn't know what went wrong.

"Then tell me why he's been visiting so much when I'm out! It's not like he's here for our daughter is he? She's always in school, so what else could he be here for?!"

"I—I can't—" Kaveh shook, how was he supposed to explain? He's not cheating, he swear but...

"Bullshit. You and that Alhaitham guy—ugh—" You inhale, your hand shooting up to brush your hair angrily. Tempted to slam it down the counter but you'd risk waking up your daughter from the noise. Hm.

Kaveh eyes your fist warily. He never knew you as physical so he wasn't worried—hoping he didn't need to but with how the tension was going, he was afraid he'd get hurt."What's so different about him and me? Is it the muscles? The income? The looks?" You seethed through your teeth, blindsided by the jealousy that you'd missed the way he stepped back cautiously. "Or did you just fall out of love for me? Or is he secretly our daughter's real father?" You huffed, closing your eyes as you tugged at your hair.

Usually, Kaveh would give you a massage, whisper sweet things and gently pull of your fingers from your hair out of concern. But how could he when he was...scared?

"N-no, I love you." Kaveh hiccuped once more, "I..." He bit his lip as he couldn't help the the tears from spilling. He couldn't bring himself to mean it. It felt forced, like he was saying it to survive and saying it felt wrong. I love you is supposed to be affectionate and meaningful, not like this.

"I think..." He sighs as he watches you gaze back, once furious expression softening in realisation at what he was about to say. "I think we need a break. To cool our head...I'm sorry." He struggles to finish, flinching as you attempt to approach him. Right now, he didn't know who you were. Actually, he hadn't know who you were for the past couple of months.

He just needs some space to breath, to find the words to tell you why Alhaitham had been visiting...

#genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #sub character #top male reader #male reader #dom reader #Kaveh X male reader #Kaveh from genshin #Kaveh #Kaveh X Alhaitham #—chikai archives 📸

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writing-in-the-impala · 4 months

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Secret Smokes (Part 9)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 5776

A/N: At the end! No spoilers here, but it's a long one so get cosy.

| SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 9, Next Chapter

Christmas morning began like every year except for the owl. When you made it downstairs there was an owl under the tree from Remus, you picked up the letter and thanked the owl giving it a treat before sending it home. You hadn't heard from Remus since you got home, however you couldn't be upset as you didn't attempt to write to him either. Even though you missed him a lot and you couldn't stop thinking about him life had become quite busy with work, family and your hometown friends. This was the first time you came home and didn't want to flirt with any one or meet anyone as the only person who got your heart to race was Remus. Since you first opened his present you kept re-reading what he wrote, as if you were trying to decipher it. Maybe it was him calling you "dear" and ending it with "yours" that made your heart race, maybe it was simply just the only way to feel close to him. "What's that letter honey?" Your mum asked walking out the kitchen to see you standing holding Remus's most recent letter.

"It's from my friend, I think it's just to thank for the Christmas present I got him."

"Him?" Your mother asked. "I knew those were for a boy she liked!" Your dad chimed in from the sofa. "So who's he?" Your mum asked.

That's when the doubts hit you, you shouldn't get excited by Remus sending you a letter, he's the kind of man you can't tell your parents about. How would you explain to your parents that you got involved with your defence against the dark arts professor and that he's also a werewolf. "Just a friend who's helped me a lot this year. Anybody want coffee?" You asked tucking Remus's letter into your jeans pocket and changing the subject.

When you had a moment after the busy morning you went upstairs to finally open Remus's letter that had occupied your mind all morning. You slowly opened it while sipping on a cup of tea that wasn't as tasty as the ones made by Remus in his office.

"My dearest Y/N,

Merry Christmas. Would it be inappropriate to say smoking or listening to music alone isn't the same? Thank you so much for your present, I've been listening to the vinyl from you on repeat I can't wait to listen to it with you. I hope work is good and your family is well too. Hogwarts is beautiful in the snow I'm glad I stayed but I'll be heading home to York soon - today - so if you would like to reach me please write to:

The Luna Cottage Yorkshire YO22 5AN

No pressure to write however if you do I just don't want you to feel like I'm ignoring your letters.

Yours, as always, Remus"

You wished the letter was longer, that he would tell you more about what he's been doing why he didn't write. You wanted to have a conversation about his day, you decided it was only right to reply to him straight away.

"Moony, Merry Christmas!

I am starting to realise my record collection is boring compared to yours. I'm glad you enjoyed the present, thank you so much for passing on your fathers book, I'm happy to return it to you as soon as I read it as it sounds quite sentimental.

I adore the cigarette tin, I would be lying if I said it hasn't already been useful. The camel and bridge are beautiful however I miss the real bridge.

I'm glad to hear you're enjoying Christmas, don't run to your cottage too quickly enjoy your time in Hogwarts although I do realise how stupid it is to write that as I'm sending it to your cottage.

My family is well and so am I thank you for asking, I do miss the snow in Hogwarts I look forward to coming back after new years.

Speak soon, Y/n"

You sent the letter almost as soon as you wrote it eager to continue this conversation with Remus. You could wait to read his next letter. However it did not arrive for days. Maybe he stayed in Hogwarts you thought, maybe he hasn't had time to send you one, maybe he's too busy...

You waited each day for a letter to arrive but nothing came, New Year's Eve was around the corner and you thought wether to wish him happy new year like you wished him Merry Christmas however you decided against it. The Weasleys had invited you to a New Year's party and you considered not going however you decided maybe it would be good to spent an evening with your school friends as opposed to the home town friends that you saw all Christmas break. The party wasn't at their house but rather a house in London however they assured you pre-drinks will be spent together. You met at their house where you would be spending the night after the party, it was nice to see their parents who always made you feel at home. They asked you many questions about your Christmas break and Molly even gave you a new hand knitted scarf as a gift. You hadn't arrived at their house empty handed either as you had a whole tray of home made cookies from your mum which the Weasley boys devoured. "So what's this party we're going to?" You asked the twins.

"It's one of the order parties but it should be fun." Fred began.

"And if we hate it, it's in central London so we can jump ship." George added.

"And we'll still see the muggle fireworks from there." Fred finished their joint sentence.

"But isn't everyone in the order like 50 now, I want a new years kiss." You complained

"I'm here." George quickly interrupted.

"I'm the hotter twin and I'm here too." Fred took over.

"See you have two options!"George said with a laugh.

"Three we all know dear Percy would kill for a kiss from you." Fred almost whispered so no one else in the family would hear.

"I don't want to kiss him, or you, or you." You said laughing and pushing them away in a friendly way.

"No you want to kiss your teacher." They both said simultaneously making your face go red.

"Shut up. I prefer people my age."

"Don't lie to us the only person our age you want to snog is Sebastian and he's mostly a rebound for your profesor."

"What did you get him for Christmas?"

"It doesn't matter besides he hasn't spoken to me since Christmas."

"But he wrote to you."

"Just to thank me."

"He still thought of you."

"We've gone off topic so who's gonna be at this party or did I waste my new years by agreeing to this?" You bought the conversation back.

"We promise there will be people you'll want to kiss there, you'll have fun."

"We're sure of it."

"Only thing...."

"'Mum is coming."

"WHAT? This is going to be so lame, a party with your parents?"

"Don't worry, we'll still have fun." He said handing you a shot to drink and all three of you necked it down. You got changed and ready to go out, suddenly you were all looking a lot more like you were going to party, the boys wolf whistled you when you joined them in the living room. By this point nearly the whole family was downstairs including Hermione who was also invited as Harry and Ron were going. When you walked into the room Percy's face seemed to go red, you felt bad as you knew his feelings for you but you just simply didn't feel the same about him. You relaxed in the living room for a bit before all of you traveled to the house the party was taking place at.

It was 12 Grimmauld Place. The home of the Blacks. Sirius Black was the only one left living there however he used the house to throw very extravagant parties, that's what Percy told you anyway. When you arrived it was quite littered with people already, and there was a mix of people older and younger, you spent time with the twins at first as you were a bit shy to start talking to so many strangers. As soon as the alcohol started to get to your head you became a lot more social with everyone around, one of your most interesting conversations was with the host Sirius Black who you clicked with immediately, you ended up in quite a discussion about the London firework display and he promised you could go up to the roof for the fireworks at midnight. You were quite enjoying yourself when you noticed Sirius hugging a man who was apologising for arriving late, he was taking his jacket off when you caught a glimpse of him. Remus J Lupin. He was wearing corduroy trousers, a nice clean fresh Oxford shirt that was a pale blue with a dark vest over it and a long black trench coat. You felt the temperature of the room go up and you needed a distraction so you jumped into a conversation with the twins. "Our teacher is here." You stated to them.

"Your teacher more like." Fred stated with a grin on his face as him and George shared a look.

"You knew." You pointed a finger at them both.

"He's in the order." George explained.

"Close friends with Black. And our parents." Fred finished.

"We didn't know for sure if he would come." They both said in response to your upset face.

"He hasn't replied to my letter." You said quietly.

"Well now you can talk in person." Fred said. You could see Remus but he wasn't looking at you, he was happy, he looked a bit tired but not more than usual, he seemed in his element hugging people hello and chatting with them. After about twenty minutes you both noticed each other he gave you a slight wave from across the room and you waved back while speaking to Hermione. The next hour and a half you spent stealing glances at each other from across the room but not talking even when you stood right next to each other, it felt like an unspoken rule. It was hurting you to watch him talk to an attractive girl from the order and laugh with her, a whole body laugh. You felt jealous, and upset that he didn't even acknowledge you past a small wave.

It was only when you were outside having a smoke with Fred that you finally spoke to Lupin. He was the one who started the conversation, you heard him say "No, no, no. I can't believe that you haven't heard of The Stooges, hold on, Y/N have you heard of the Stooges" he interrupted your conversation but you didn't mind.

"Of course, arguably they were the first punk rock band." You said with a small smile, eyeing the girl he was taking to in a judgmental way.

"Thank you!" Remus said to everyone before turning around to face you. "Hello by the way." He has a gently smile.

"Hi professor, I saw you earlier but didn't want to interrupt." You said hugging him hello, he already smelt like he's drank quite a bit as did you.

"You should've." He said gently in a hush tone, eyes quickly flicking down to your lips then back to your eyes, his breath really smelt like fire whiskey.

"You look nice." You replied.

"I was going to say the same about you." The small smile growing on his lips as his eyes scanned your body.

"Who are you so dressed up for?" You pried hoping the answer doesn't hurt you.

"Sirius." He said in a stern tone and continued once he saw the puzzled look on your face. "He said he was going to hex me if I showed up in the same clothes I wear every day. I don't know if you've met him yet but I believe he genuinely would have."

"I have and I agree, I think you're a wise man." You said with a laugh.

"How was Christmas?" He asked changing the topic.

"You know same, same. Spent most of the time working. What about yours?" You said putting your hands in your pockets awkwardly. When you spoke to him it's like the whole world blurred, like no one else was around you even through your were standing outside the house on a street in central London.

"Christ Y/N, I'm sorry I didn't write back." He simply answered.

"It's okay, I'm sure you were busy." You said hiding your disappointment.

"No, no I wasn't." He said with his own frown on his face. "After Christmas there was a full moon and I was knackered, once I regained energy I had so much to do and I didn't dedicate time to writing back, when I could've, I should've and I'm so sorry." He was leaning on the wall for support as if his guilt was weighing him down.

"How's the cottage?"

"It's cosy, I've been fixing things in it, Hogwarts has meant it stands empty with no one looking after it, so things have broken in my absence." He explained.

"I wish you had time to write while you were there, I had so many questions." You said instead of saying you missed him.

"Have you seen Sebastian Sallow over half term?"

"What?" You shot back in confusion.

"Just wandering as you two are close."

"Not that close." You felt weird about his question, his facial expression was hard to read.

"Fair enough." He replied after a moment of awkward silence.

"Why do you ask?" You pushed.

"Because I thought you two were slowly growing into a relationship, you know I just want the best for you." He didn't make eye contact with you.

"What's the best for me?" You questioned.

"It's not me." He said with an intense stare into your eyes.

"So you don't want me to be with you?" You asked swallowing hard from the anxiety.

"Correct." He answered his body inching closer to you.

"But do you want to be with me?" He looked down at his empty glass after you asked him this.

"What was work like?" He asked changing the topic.

"Answer my question." You pushed.

"Answer mine."

"I asked first."

"Y/N... let's change the subject before one of us gets hurt, let's not ruin new years." He said sounding defeated as he finished the sentence you heard the front door open and saw Sirius there with two drinks in his hand.

"Remus! There you are, I made you a drink." He said in a jolly voice. "Y/N, do you want one too?" He said while handing a drink to Remus.

"It's fine I can go get it myself." You said finishing this the perfect opportunity to leave this conversation with Remus.

"Beautiful, let me show you the main reason why being a magic is the greatest thing ever." Sirius said clicking his fingers and your glass refilled itself. Remus just laughed as if this was an old trick.

"How?" You asked in shock.

"Dear old Sirius has enchanted all the glass to be self re-filling because he's too lazy to stand up and pour himself a drink."

"I didn't know this was possible." You expressed.

"It's a dangerous trick." Remus explained.

"As if you don't love it Moony." Sirius said and you have a puzzled look to the nickname but didn't ask more questions. "Now it looks like you two were having a meaningful chat I don't mean to interrupt."

"You're not, I was just about to head inside." You said.

"Sure you were." Sirius said with a wink. "Enjoy the drink moony, let me know how it tastes later!" Sirius said with a wink at Remus and head tilting to you before he left, luckily for Remus you didn't see this. A moment of silence fell upon both of you again before Remus cleared his throat. "You know all the glasses in my office have this enchantment." He said sitting down on the front door steps.

"Liar, why do you always stand up and make cups of tea if they can refill themselves?"

"I find there's something romantic about doing things the proper way, taking a moment to brew a tea and pour it. It feels like it's the right way to do it. When I'm alone I don't bother to do all the mundane but I like to do it with you." He took last sip of the cocktail he managed to already finish and you watched it magically refill itself.

"So I'm guessing you and Sirius are close?" You asked.

"How'd you guess?"

"He called you moony."

"He's my best friend from school, there's not many of us left after the war." Remus began.

"What do you mean us?"

"My friends from school and I used to call ourselves the Marauders."

"That's so lame." You laughed and he had a nostalgic smile on his face.

"I know. But we were proud of it, we were unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with. We used to preform some pranks that created new rules in Hogwarts."

"Not that pillar of morality I thought you were Professor." You winked at him and he laughed.

"Maybe not." His eyes were glued to your lips.

"So what happened?" You asked and his eyes went down to the floor, he cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

"We all grew up but not all of us got to grow old. You see straight after school James and Lilly got married, it was a beautiful day. Not long after Harry was born, we felt like we were on top of the world when we were leaving Hogwarts. But the wizarding war kept getting worse, I struggled for work with my condition so I focused mainly on the order, James and Sirius helped me a lot especially with money, I wouldn't have a home without them. We spent most of our days as part of the Order of the Phoenix, and we were proud, we felt like our little group was part of something special. Then the day when Peter betrayed James and Lilly came, and well you know how the story of that day goes." He said his voice breaking a bit a small tear forming in his eye. "After that day the world rejoiced, war was over, he was gone, but he took James and Lilly with them. Peter, the snitch, sold them out. It was just Sirius and I left." You placed you hand on his knee to comfort him.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's okay. I was hurt that day and I was stupid, I distanced myself from Sirius, and from everyone. I saw the world as cruel, I really treated myself like a victim, felt sorry for myself. Sirius, he saved me. Every full moon he would come to the cottage and make sure I was okay, it was only after a year that I found out when he fell asleep and when I was back to my human form he was still around. He explained he'd come in secret every month just to check in on me. He made me realise the world wasn't so cruel after all." Remus glanced back at the house behind him.

You got a glimpse at a new part of Remus, the Remus who lost friends, the Remus who used to be a boy surrounded by everyone he loved, and you understood why now being in Hogwarts he was so much more lonely than ever before. "It's funny when I met you it felt like meeting the marauders for the first time. If only you were around when I was your age, I think I would've- doesn't matter. I'm sorry for dropping my sob story on you like that." Remus said with a heavy breath.

"Moony I love to hear about your past, Sirius sounds very special... I'm glad you have him."

"I love that boy." He said honestly. "He's my brother for life." He said looking back at the house once again. A calm quiet fell upon you both before you took your cigarette tin out of your pocket, you offered one to Remus and he took it "nice tin." He said with a wink. "Where'd you get it?" He asked while you tried to light your cigarette with your lighter, he lit his with magic obviously.

"This guy got me it, I really thought he liked me because it's so special but I realise now he's just kindhearted and cares about people. It's still one of my favourite gifts though."

"What says those are mutually exclusive?" He questioned while you struggled to light your cigarette as your lighter didn't want to work.

"Can you light it for me?" You asked him gently turning around to him.

"Sure, come here." He motioned for you to get closer to him. And you shifted towards him. "Closer." He instructed. You were confused but listened, you were now inches away from him, his cigarette was in his mouth and yours was in your hand. "Put it in your mouth." He said through the cigarette. "Now come here I'll light it for you." He said quietly. So you leaned in and he lit the cigarette with the one in his mouth, your body felt like it was burning, you could smell the alcohol, you could smell him. Chocolate, cigarettes and an undertone of firewood. He placed a hand on your face to stabilise you and you felt that your cigarette was lit. You pulled away from each other and you took a drag with a shaky breath after the moment you just shared.

You felt his hand grab your chin again and turn your face back to his, his cigarette wasn't in his mouth this time, he began to lean in. "Tell me if you want me to stop." He whispered and your heart raced as you leaned into him and your lips crashed. The kiss was full of lust and longing. He had completely dropped his cigarette as both his hands were now on your face, you dropped yours and raised your hands to touch him. You felt him swoop your whole body to the side and you were suddenly straddling him on the stairs of the house. You felt him, you felt how much he wanted you, you began to slowly grind on him to tease him. His hands began to go up and down your back as you continued to make out, your hands went through his hair, something you wanted to do for a very long time. And then you heard it, the fireworks.

Remus pulled away first, shaken back into reality, you both looked into each others eyes for a few seconds. Silence. The look of complete fear and lust in both your eyes as reality crashed back in. "Happy new year dear." He said quietly.

"Happy new year Moony." Your replied and he gently kissed you on the lips with love rather than lust this time. He slowly moved you off him and stood up, reaching out a hand towards you to help you stand up. "Let's head up to the roof, the view of the fireworks is beautiful up there." He said and you gave him a sad look.

"I'm happy to miss it." You almost whispered.

"We can't. Come on." He said reaching his hand out for you to hold and you followed him holding his hand while walking up the stairs and questioning which part he was referring to with "we can't". You headed back inside and as you passed the mirrors on the stairs Remus fixed his hair, he let go of your hand and you walked side by side upstairs entering the roof quietly. Once upstairs he squeezed your shoulder and walked away from you, he started making the rounds while telling people happy new year starting from some members of the order, moving onto the Weasleys and so on. You just stood there watching him. "Happy new year Y/N. We were looking for you." Fred said. "Are you okay?" He said looking at your confused expression.

"I just kissed our teacher." You said quietly. And Fred laughed and George groaned. "Pay up." Fred said to George and they exchanged money.

"You guys bet on this? You bought me here and you bet on it?" You asked slightly annoyed but also amused.

"Only when I left you outside with him." Fred said defensively. "How do you feel?" George asked. "Relived?" Fred added.

"Horny and confused."

"Poor Percy was looking for you, wanted you to be his new years kiss, he won't be happy to find out." George added.

"No one can know." You said sternly.

"Y/N, your secret is safe with us." George said.

"However we will make fun of you for this." Fred stated.

"Constantly." George added.

"Looks Y/N is not paying attention to us." Fred pointed out as you were starring at Remus and Sirius whispering to each other and Sirius glancing over at you.

"We've lost her, next thing you know she'll be married, she won't speak to us. No time for us." Fred joked. As you continued to watch Remus, who now glanced at you, said bye to Sirius and began to walk over in your direction.

"He's coming over what should I do?" You asked in panic.

"You were the one snogging him, not us." They both said.

"Shut up." You replied and Remus was now close enough to hear. The boys turned around and smiled at him with big grins. "Happy new year professor." The both said.

"Happy new year." He replied gently. "Happy new year Y/N." He said to you pretending as if nothing happened.

"Wait so you didn't even say happy new year to each other?" Fred asked and both you and George slapped him to shut him up.

"I should've known. Sirius also knows." He said he's gesturing behind him to a smiling Sirius who waved at you as soon as you looked over at him.

"Obviously." You said with a gentle smile.

"Do you boys mind if I have a word with Y/N?" Remus asked politely.

"Just don't-" Fred began.

"Fred." You and George said in unison. "Alright nice to see you prof!" Fred said laughing and walking away.

Remus lead you off the roof and down the stairs towards one of the rooms. You didn't ask any questions. He pulled you into a room and you straight away began to make out. You explored each others lips before between kissed Remus began to speak "Let's get one thing straight, this can't happen." He then kissed you again and you tried to push out a "yes" between the kisses. "And no one can find out about this." You nodded and he leaned back in to continue. "And if anyone knew you could get expelled and I could lose my job."

"Yes professor."

"Don't. I go crazy when you call me that." He said biting your lip as he kissed you this time and moving his hands around your whole body. "Now tell me if you want me to leave this room and pretend nothing happened, tell me now and I'll leave and we'll go back to just being professional." He said looking deep into your eyes and you shook your head and leaned in to kiss him. "Good." He whispered before kissing you back, after a moment you moved your hands to his belt and began to unbuckle it. "Not so quickly my dear." He whispered in your ear. "What we're going to do is leave this room, you're going to be a good girl and mingle with your friends, while I make the rounds talking to mine. Then when it's late and everyone is saying goodbye you meet me. That way we don't raise any suspicion about both being gone all night." He explained and you nodded. "Good." He said and he kissed your lips gently before leaving the room. You stood in the dark room alone trying to process everything. After a moment you left the room and continued upstairs, on the stairs you a ran into Percy. "Y/N!" He said cheerfully. "Where have you been all evening?" He asked.

"Oh I've been floating around." You replied trying to keep it vague.

"I was searching for you." He stated.

"It's a big house." You simply replied.

"Why did you leave with professor Lupin after new years?"

"Why are you watching my every move?" You felt like your privacy was invaded.

"We're friends Y/N, I feel like this year you've been running around befriending Slytherins and doing tutoring every day we've barely seen each other." He complained.

"You're exaggerating, besides you're the one who always pushed for me to study more, now I am and you're complaining." You were getting annoyed.

"Are you and the Slytherin boy dating? Is that why you've been avoiding me?" He asked a bit too aggressively.

"Percy. Your jealousy is showing, please go home, go the bed, we'll talk tomorrow." You walked past him towards the roof, he tried to continue the conversation but you didn't turn around to reply.

Upstairs you saw Remus chatting to small group of people, he looked so handsome. You started getting involved in your own conversations however you couldn't resist to look over at Remus constantly, and he kept looking over at you. Each time he would smile, sometimes he'd lightly wink. When Molly and Arthur Weasley were leaving you and the twins said you'll come home later in the evening and they trusted you and left you behind. Finally there was very few people left behind and Remus approached you and the twins as you relaxed in the living room. "Sorry to interrupt." He began not taking his eyes off you as he scanned your body, licking his lips.

"Please do." Fred said with a grin.

"Excuse us profesor." George said pulling Fred away.

"Has anyone given you a tour of the house dear?" Remus asked you with his hands on his pockets while looking down towards you. You shook your head and he simply reached a hand out to you to help you up. He began giving you a tour from the bottom of the house towards upstairs, there were still people in the house but very few as it was nearing 4am and most people had traveled home by now. He led you all the way up before he stopped at a room. "And here is my room." He said.

"Your room?" You questioned.

"Well technically the guest room but since it's just Sirius who lives here this room has become my room, I stay here whenever I'm in London." It was mostly a simply decorated room but the small pile of books on the side table made it obvious that Remus stayed here often.

"What have you been reading?" You said picking up the top book as Remus came up behind you putting his arms around you and kissing your neck.

"Does it matter right now?" He whispered in your ear pulling you against him.

"I don't think so." You said as he turned you around to look at him.

"You drive me crazy girl." He leaned in to kiss you. "Do you want to know how crazy?" He asked and you nodded. That's when he grabbed your hand and put it against his crotch, you could feel how huge his cock was in that very moment. "Holy shit." You whispered as a genuine reaction not thinking about what's leaving your lips. Remus smiled and chuckled slightly. "Don't worry, I'll go slow." He whispered and you almost melted into his kiss. After a moment of kissing he gently pushed you against the wall where he pulled your top off and your trousers. He began kissing you from your neck down your body getting on his knees in front of you as he kissed your legs and bit your thong. "I have thought about this moment from the first time I met you. You're more beautiful than I imagined." He said before standing up and kissing you on the lips again and you ran your hands through his hair. He picked you up and lay you down on his bed as he climbed up above you leaning down and kissing you. You reached up to unbutton his shirt and he stopped your hands for a moment.

"I just want to warn you, I have scares." He said, his voice had a twang of anxiety behind it.

"I don't care." You breathed out.

"You don't understand they're bad, I can keep my shirt on."

"Remus don't be ridiculous." You said unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his chest, his scars were deep, layering on top of each other some older than others. You began to trace them with your finger as Remus watched your expression, you then leaned in to kiss his scars. He put a hand under your chin and went back to kiss you as he unbuckled his trousers slipping them off while keeping his lips on yours. He once again moved down to your underwear taking them off with his mouth as he kissed you all the way back up to your lips. "I'm going to go slow but if anything hurts tell me okay?" He confirmed and you nodded. "Dear I need you to use your words for me."

"Yes Professor." You said and it felt like his eyes darkened a little as he slowly slid into you. You could feel how large he was as began to slowly move in and out. As soon as he saw you feel comfortable he began to up the pass, kissing your neck and starting to suck and lick it as you moaned under him. "You're so beautiful." He whispered in your ear as he kissed you.

"Remus you feel amazing." You said as he picked up the pace and moaned in your ear. He held your hands above your head with one hand and kept himself up above you with the other. The kissing turned into bites with kisses as your hearts raced. "Remus I'm close." You moaned out as he was bitting your nipples and still holding your hands above your head. "I want to feel you cum for me." He said as he kissed your lips again and you moaned out in bliss. You felt him fill you right after. As soon as he pulled out he leaned in to kiss you and you kissed him back. "Happy new year." He whispered as he lay down next to you pulling you in your hug him, you skin touching his skin. "Happy new year Remus." You whispered back tracing his scars with your finger and closing your eyes as he lightly kissed the top of your head.

A/N: AHHHHHH finally! Now I can tell you this chapter was the idea that sparked everything, it was the idea of them sitting on those bloody steps and him lighting her cigarette with his own that made me want to write all this. Don't worry it's not over yet, we're only just beginning the story I hope you carry on reading a lot as there's loads more to come as they navigate this situation. Hope you like it!

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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bringbacktim · 3 months

Text

America² part two

It's been a long time coming and I'm so so so sorry for making you guys wait this long , the fanfic writer curse of having the worst luck caught up to me recently. This got wrote in shifts so might not be the same quality throughout. Not edited or proofread. Written whilst I was half asleep most of the time

Word count: 5.5k words

Warnings: smut , unprotected sex (don't do this irl) , face slapping, curse words , use of cock dick pussy etc ,I think that's it

I am so glad this season is over" Oscar said as he had his last bite of food

"Can't wait to just dissappear for winter break" Y/n agreed as logan hummed in agreement

"Are you going back to florida or are you going to do some traveling?" Oscar asked logan

"Yeah are you going to have a fuckboy Winter break like you usually do or did everyone finally realise how awful you are?" Y/n teased

"Haha , I never had any fuckboy winterbreaks but I've heard about how you've been slutted about in past season breaks" logan said only realising after how mean it was and how he shouldn't have said it in such a public setting

"Slutted out? Jesus Sargeant, you almost sound jealous " she laughed knowing she'll definitely get some new dirt on him, already knowing some humiliating kinks he has,when he inevitably either Jack's off on the other side of the hotel wall with his porn way too loudly or when he brings some girl back to the hotel to celebrate the last race of the season

"You wish" he scoffed and rolled his eyes

"Now now children" Oscar said leaning into his role of their mother whenever they insulted each other

"So what are you and lily doing for winter break? Going anywhere nice?"

Y/n asked cutting logan off from his snarky remark

"Hopefully somewhere hot and far away from you two" the Aussie replied getting an "oi" in reply from both of them

"Rude, you love us really" Y/n scoffed

"What like you and logan love each other"

"Yeah! ... wait no " logan said realising Oscar wasn't being nice

"How do they let you drive an f1 car man , they should give you a 5 lap headstart cause is there even a brain up there" she joked knocking on his head and saying "nope hollow" after to which he winced and rubbed his head

"Are you guys coming to the after party?" Oscar asked wanting to party with his friends

"Depends if logan is going" Y/n said

"And how big the place is" logan added

"It's got to fit everyone we work with in so I'd say pretty big, plenty of space to hide from each other or sneak off in a dark corner and do god knows what" he added laughing when their faces contoured in disgust

"Let it go Oscar, we're not gonna fuck before the end of the season, but I will be attending the after party" Y/n said getting her coat and leaving

"God what is her problem?" Logan said watching her walk away ,his eyes definitely didn't graze down to her ass as she angrily stomped away or anything why would you think that .

"Sexual frustration I think" Oscar joked which earned him a punch to the shoulder from the male American who walked off aswell not before calling Oscar a perv

At the hotel they all relaxed for a bit and then started to get slowly ready for the after party. Y/n deciding to blast some fun music not caring about the guy she shared a thin wall with . Obviously a mistake as he came stomping from his room to hers with a scowl on his face as he angrily knocked on her door . Expecting one of her friends she was going to the party with she opened the door in the sports bra and pyjama shorts she put on after her shower discarding her shirt when she heard the knocks

Swinging it open and revealing the last person she ever expected left her with a Shocked expression on her face and an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach about what she was wearing , crossing her arms over her chest to cover the skin there , but that only gave the effect of a push up bra which didn't really help logan trying desperately not to look down there while she complains that he's at her door for literally no reason

"Did you hear me ? I said why are you standing at my door?" She asked snapping her fingers infront of his face

"Oh right, can you turn the music down I can't hear myself think in my room" he said trying to shake the inappropriate thoughts he was having

"Well I cranked the volume up cause you usually jerk it or bring some girl back at this time and I didn't want to hear it, so you're welcome"

"I didn't thank you , and why would I . For creepily knowing when I jerk off ? You probably do it the other side of the wall to me" he accused

"Don't act like oscar didn't tell me about the time you called someone else my name when you came" Y/n said with a smug look

"In my defence i thought you two had the same name"

"I heard her say she her name was valentine, incase you haven't noticed thats nothing like Y/n. Just admit you want us to hate fuck just as much as oscar does"

"Fuck off , just turn the music down" he said walking back to his room *and definitely not thinking of how his hands or dick would feel in between her boobs* god what is with his mind today

It took him longer to get ready than usual thanks to the thoughts he was having , and the bulge in his trousers that wouldn't go down no matter what innocent thought he tried to imagine

He was half dressed in a nice shirt and was trying to put his jeans up his legs before quickly realising the bulge in his boxers was not going to go down and he would have to do something about it

Putting some music on to get him in the mood and so the girl on the other side of the wall that he may or may not be imagining stroking him right now instead of his own hand won't hear his desperate whines

Trying to get this over with so he can go party with his friends , he quickens his pace and starts to slightly flick his wrist in a way that has his head lolling back and leaving him breathless

"Fuck-" he moaned out hoping the music masked it and she wouldn't be able to hear it or the skin against skin

He was delving into his deepest dirtiest fantasies to try for once to bust in under 5 minutes

She was in her room on the other side of the wall being bombarded with questions from Oscar about where logan was, whether he was ready to go or not etc as if she was his babysitter . She tried knocking on his door but got no answer, she knocked on the door that connected the two rooms and again no answer but she could hear music playing so assumed he just couldn't hear her so she opened the door just enough so she could get a peek to make sure he was decent and then was going to knock on the wood

But when she saw him doing the last thing she thought he'd be doing right now , her hand didn't come up to knock on the door as fast as it probably should have, but seeing him head pressed into the pillow eyes closed as his chest heaved with every whine or strangled moan that escaped his mouth the waistband of his boxers down enough to let his cock escape but still keep him covered , his glorious slightly sweaty veiny arms working hard to keep up with the fast pace he had set for himself

Y/n found herself mouth agape stood in his doorway wondering why him moaning was so incredibly hot to her and why her feet were walking closer to the bed

"Y/n" he moaned stopping her in her tracks , especially since his eyes were closed and he definitely wouldn't have heard her walk in due to the music blasting . She wouldn't admit it , but it did make her heart beat a little quicker

She put her palm over her eyes as she turned to music off to make it look like she hadn't been staring , this caused him to sit up quicker than anyone ever has and cover himself with a pillow that was beside him

"Y/n!! What are you doing here?" He asked feeling rather exposed

"Oscar kept asking me about whether you were ready or not and you're door was locked and you didn't hear me knock" she explained palm still firmly over her eyes

"You can take your hand away I'm not doing anything" he said trying to make this less uncomfortable

"Are you sure this isn't a plan to get me to see your dick?" She said trying to fall back into her hating him persona

"Don't act like I didn't feel you staring as you walked in"

"You didn't even know I walked in!" She accused

They hadn't realised Oscar had walked in through the open door until he spoke up

"Nice to see you're ready like I said to be logan" he said scaring both of them

"I'm half way done okay , just let me get my pants on and we can leave"

"Okay do we need to turn around while you put your cock away or what?" Y/n joked half hoping he'd say no

"Woah woah wait , what were you two doing before I walked in ? You were watching him wank weren't you?" Oscar accused the pair infront of him

" Can't believe you'd think so lowly of me , you couldn't pay me to watch that"she said

"Yeah cause you can watch it for free through a crack in my door like the creep you are" logan bit back

"Oh I'm the creep? Who moaned who's name whilst getting off tonight me or you?"

"I mean I didn't hear you getting off but I'd take a chance and say you" he smugly laughed

"There is way too much sexual tension right now and it smells like dick and balls so we'll leave you to get ready and meet us in the hallway" Oscar said before his friends had the chance to fuck infront of him

After they got back to Y/n's room Oscar was bombarding her with questions about logan moaning her name since this wasn't the first time logan had said her name whilst aroused

It was no longer than 10 minutes later when logan met them in the hallway and they were getting in the taxi to go the party

When they got there everyone went their separate ways and found their friends who they would spend most of the night with

Oscar and logan did meet up throughout the night , mostly so Oscar could try and get a confession out of logan not that he ever did , much to Oscar's disappointment . He also spoke to Y/n to see if she would give him any indication that she liked logan romantically but she was nowhere near drunk enough

The party was more boring than they thought it was going to be partly because toto didn't crowd surf that year and partly because neither Y/n nor Logan could stop thinking about what would've happened if Oscar hadn't have walked in . Would she have given him a helping hand , or mouth , would he let her stand and watch him get off to the thought of her , would they do the things he was imagining ? The world may never know what would've happened because of the Australian that bounced in the room

Thanks to the free bar and friends shoving drinks into the sexually frustrated and confused pairs hands the thoughts about each other were kept on the back-burner well atleast until they were both in their hotel rooms one last time before winter break where they could do whatever they wanted while thinking about whoever they wanted

Unfortunately, nothing happened in the club as they couldn't find each other and they had some self respect as to not fuck in the disgusting club bathroom

They thought they were in the clear of not seeing each other until the next season started in three months which meant they could spend that time pretending like they weren't developing feeling for each other , but post season testing slipped both of their minds and they would have to see each other on track one last time that year

They had two days to try and act like they still hated each other , but that was proving difficult as everytime one of them closed their eyes they would relive the scene that happened in his hotel room days before

In post season testing , they let reserve drivers or f2 drivers have the chance to drive an f1 car so logan and Y/n weren't needed until the second half of the day so we're free to watch or just entertain themselves until it was their turn

They mostly stood around in their respective garages going over data or scrolling their phones in their driver rooms

Logan was being hard on himself based on the data from the season and how bad he felt he did , which was a sad sight to see. Y/n was in a similar position as annoyingly enough the Americans finished one after the other in the standings which just gave every reporter and journalist another way to compare the two

Her and oscar did visit the Williams garage so Oscar could try and cheer him up Y/n was only there as she was talking to Oscar as he walked towards the garage , but it was clear he was ticked off and needed to blow off some steam. While Oscar was thinking of how to take his mind off of the had results Y/n was stood daydreaming which didn't really help logan as the last thing he needed was to have her stood infront of her race suit tied around her waist showing her tight fireproofs as she stood there looking pretty . She had to be doing it on purpose he thought

They were meant to be setting up to get logan on track , but George had just crashed his Mercedes and red flagged the session which meant more waiting in the Abu Dhabi sun and the inappropriate thoughts he couldn't get out of his head weren't helping with the heat

What also didn't help was when he saw her get out of her car , ass pushing the limits of her race suit as she gripped the halo , oh how logan wished her fingers were wrapped around something else

When she came and knocked on his driver room door to see if he wanted to go find somewhere to eat while they get the race going again , he thought his head was going to explode from the thoughts he definitely shouldn't be having as he saw her leaning against his door frame asking a polite question that Oscar definitely made her ask . It was the straw that broke the camels back when someone dropped what he assumed was a piece of equipment in the garage making her boobs jiggle as she jumped

He strode over to her as she just looked back confused because he hadn't answered her question but instead pressed a firm kiss to her lips . When he pulled back there was obviously a bewildered look on her face because to kiss her out of the blue is crazy enough but to do it infront of whoever could see them was another level

She pushed him into the room before returning the kiss as his hands slipped to her waist

"What was that for?" She asked not actually caring she thought she'd ask for when Oscar asked her after she told him

"Oscar said I need to let off some steam and I think I've found a perfect way" he laughed as his fingers traced the sliver of skin where her fireproofs separated

"You're so annoying" she whined as he made no move to take any clothing off of her

"Shut it ,we don't have time for foreplay, but you're probably wet enough for me to take you right now" he teased as his fingers trailed down her body and inside the bottom half of what she was wearing as she pulled his clothes over his head and kissed him again tongues fighting

As they made out and stripped , he walked them both to the little sofa in the corner of the room and sat down . As their lips separated she was going ask what position he wanted to do ,but he patted his lap before she could

"Protection?" She asked not fancying getting an sti from the fuckboy of miami

"In my bag , side pocket" he lazily pointed not bothering to get up and get it

As he stroked himself while she went up and got the condom he pinched himself to make sure he wasn't having another dream

When she rolled the condom on and sunk down on him he realised this was better than any dream he'd had because it was actually real

"Fuck" he moaned as he leaned his head back on his hands and watched her ride him hissing as he was almost too big on the way down

"Am I going to do all the work or are you going to help?" She asked trying to catch her breath not bothering to stop moving her hips

He didn't answer and instead just grabbed her hips and gave some rough thrusts before rubbing her clit furiously as she whined in his ear and bit his shoulder to stay quiet as she came on his cock

"Clean yourself up and then you can suck me off before we have to go back to racing" he said knowing there was nothing in his room she could use to clean herself but couldn't bring himself to car

"How charming sargeant" Y/n said in a monotone voice as she pulled her underwear up her legs and just deciding to make a run to the toilet before she gets in the car

"I let you come first , what's more charming than that?" He asked

"Maybe not a half assed fuck before a race" she said getting on her knees infront of the sofa as she took the condom he was wearing off

"Just suck my dick so you can go back to your own drivers room" he said pulling her hair into a makeshift ponytail and dragging her face closer to his cock

She had barely gotten past the head before she could feel her lips stinging from being stretched so wide

"You should see how much of a slut you look like right now" he said forcing her to take more than she ever had before and choked back a gag

When she hollowed her cheeks and took him to the base he swear he was seeing stars , but when she came up for air he wasn't impressed "shit do that again" he said as he slapped her cheek as she looked up at him with those teary eyes that almost made him bust a nut

When she didn't do as he said he slapped her again and again until she obeyed and called her some other derogatory name

"You're drooling all over my fucking lap , you better clean it up after" he said as she let him fuck her mouth as she brought her hand up from its resting place on his thigh to play with his balls

"Not my fault there's no space left in my fucking mouth"

When she moaned around his cock and sent vibrations and tingles up his spine he swore he had never cum so hard or so much but she swallowed every drop

Not much was said between them whilst getting re dressed and trying to make it look like they weren't just fucking . Thankfully the engineers had very loud tools and music playing in the garage

Post season testing went better than expected as both Americans made their way into the top 10 . When Oscar congfatulated both of them they were standing further apart than they usually were and weren't making eye contact , but he assumed they just had another pointless argument

Logan and Y/n spent alot of that night trying to decide whether that was a mistake or whether they wanted to do it again . Y/n made it clear that she wouldn't be just another one of his girls and that he would have to commit to her even if they were just friends with benefits

Logan had been invited on a lads holiday with a few of his friends from back home and oscar , which took up alot of the winter break and meant he had alot of time to think about Y/n and how he wanted their relationship to pan out. He saw alot of couples on this trip and his feeling for her were definitely growing . He liked all the sex they had but also loved the domestic stuff like hearing her talk about her day over the phone or her asking his opinion on what outfit she should wear

Over a very horny facetime call Y/n had mentioned the idea of flying to wherever he was and just fuck until they had made up for all of the lost time

It was a good idea in theory , but trying to book a flight close to Christmas was just as hard as you'd imagine , but that gave logan time to plan how he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend

They had video called every night for the next few weeks until she was flying to wherever he was in the world and they couldn't wait. He was going to just ask her when he met her at the airport as he knew she didn't like big gestures. He just hoped she felt the same

"Logie" she exclaimed as she practically ran towards him hugging him when she met his eyes in the crowd of people

"Don't tell Oscar I borrowed the rental car for this" he laughed as he kissed her temple because her face was hidden in his chest as they continued hugging

"I wouldn't get my boyfriend in trouble on his lads holiday now would I? I'd be a terrible girlfriend if I did" she laughed as he looked at her mouth agape

"You talk in you're sleep , i think it's cute how much detail you put into this" she said as they walked out of the very small airport which she was thankful for as they weren't being mobbed by fans for once

When they got to the hotel the sweet cute couple effect had worn off and they just wanted to well and truly fuck . Logans friends had unfortunately booked an activity for them that he had no idea about so had to leave her all alone is his hotel room no matter how dirty the things she would whisper in his ear in hopes he would stay were

He did manage to leave early as he faked some illness

"Logan?" Y/n questioned as his door unlocked

"Y/n" he said eyes softening as he looked at her laying all comfy on the sofa wearing his clothes

"You took sooo and I couldn't find any WiFi password or the TV remote so I couldn't even watch any porn while you were gone" she said sadly as he sat next to her

"I got back as soon as I could , none of them wanted to let me come back here" he said leaning in and kissing her with such passion

"Don't try and butter me up sargeant , I've been horny for hours thanks to you" she said putting her hands on his shoulders and making sure he knew he was to blame

"If you want some angry sex all you had to do was ask baby" he said leading her to the bedroom

"Fuck me like you're mad at me then " she laughed as she almost tripped over both of their feet

"I saw your burner account comment that on my Instagram by the way" he called her out as he fell back on to the bed and she made her way onto his lap

"Theres no proof that it's me" she said laughing as she ground on his lap

"I just have a feeling" he said his hands coming up to hold her hips

"I just love how riled up you get, you really give it to me"

"So are you going to suck my dick like you're mad at it or are we skipping foreplay" he asked not knowing how much more friction and pressure he could take as she moaned almost angelically in his ear

"Surely you'd be compensating me for making me wait?" She said giving him the eyes

He didn't need to be told twice, laying her down on the bed as he kissed his way down her body as she tried to rid them both of atleast their shirts so she could feel some skin against skin

After he had pulled her sweatpants down her ankles too impatient to take them all the way off and let her kick them off while he rubbed her slit and clit through her underwear enough to make her gasp and her him to just take them off , he pushed them to the side while gathering some slick so he could easily push 2 fingers in just to make her moan at the unexpectedness of two at once and cause he still wanted to tease her with no preparation but going from how wet she was she had definitely either been thinking inappropriately the entire time she was waiting or got off atleast once already

"This all for me?" He asked knowing it was but loved to see her get embarrassed at how wet the thought of him got her

"Shut up" she said very lightly pushing his head as she couldn't reach his shoulder in retaliation before hiding her face in her hands

"Don't worry I think it's hot how much you love the thought of me" he said pinching her clit before replacing his fingers with his tongue while his hand went up to cup her breast over her bra

"If you don't hurry up and make me cum I'm going to knock on someone else's hotel door and see if they'll be able to" she said trying not to break character which is easier said than done when logan sargeant is eating you out as an apology

"Oh fuck don't stop" she threw her head back and kept his hand in place that had made its way into the cup of her bra and was toying with her nipple

"You're all mouth Y/l/n" he laughed as he came up for air face glistening in the lamp light

It only took logan no more than 4 more minutes of the combination of rolling her clit in one of his hands while the other toyed with her nipple and his tongue rapidly ate her out not caring about how much noise the pair were making

"Am I forgiven?" He laughed not bothering to wipe the evidence off of his mouth

"Only if you dick me down in the next 30 seconds" she breathlessly laughed as she pulled him into a sloppy kiss full of teeth and gums not caring about the taste of herself on his tongue or lips

She held his face in her hands as they continued to make out while he made quick of getting his trousers and boxers down his legs and stroking himself quickly before asking if they needed to use any protection as he couldn't remember if he had any left

"Just pull out or pay for a plan b tomorrow" she said putting her faith in his reaction speed

"So all I had to was ask you to be my girlfriend and I'm allowed to hit it raw?" Logan said eyes wide imagining all the times he wished he could go raw

He lined himself up and pushed in slowly while he watched her arms sling around his shoulders as her head lolled back and her back arched as she moaned

When he bottomed out and thought how he'd never get used to how snug her walls were around him his mouth agape as he realised how hard it would be and how much mental strength it would take him to not cum inside her . Especially when she raised her head to look at him and she looked in such a state of bliss as she bit her bottom lip as to not let a moan out from him just being inside her

"God please move" she begged as she tried to get closer to him by putting her legs over his shoulders to gain any friction or just anything but was met with no avail

And who was he to deny her that pleasure , his hips snapping into hers with such force he thanked God that he headboard wasn't near a wall because it would be making a rukus for the person on the other side

He let her lay there eyes closed and head back for a solid three minutes before he stopped thrusting in and had only the tip in which made her look up to figure out why he stopped, not before he cupped the back of her head and forced it to look down to where their bodies met

"You wanted me to fuck you so badly that you flew all the way here and yet you don't have the decency to watch what you begged me for" he scoffed as he resumed thrusting his grip not faltering on her head to make sure she was watching what he was doing

Oh how they hoped no one was around to hear any of this

For the remaining days that they were both staying at the same resort they fucked like rabbits and on evert surface you could imagine , having to have condoms delivered to their hotel rooms as they couldn't stay away from each other for long enough to go buy some

Unfortunately for them , there had been a room switch as two of the boys they were there with had gotten in an argument and didn't want to share a room anymore so polite Oscar swapped and had a room the other side of logans wall , where he heard alot of the facetime calls he had late at night to god knows who and when he was fucking who he thought was some random girl he picked up from the island they were on . He chose not to say anything until he heard room service deliver something to Logans room next door and heard Y/ns voice answer the door and thank the person giving them the food which made him swing the door open and knock on the door ready to demand answers

"Where is she?" Oscar asked

"Who?" Logan replied

"The girl who answered the door two seconds ago"

"Why"

"Because she sounded exactly like Y/n who I told you countless time you'd hate fuck , so where is she?" He said not bothering to beat around the Bush

He had no excuse to get himself out of this one so just pointed in the direction of the bathroom" Don't tell her you heard us she'd be so embarrassed"

Oscar strode over to the bathroom and knocked . No longer than a second later Y/n opened the door sheepishly knowing she'd been caught

"How long have you guys been hiding this from me?"

"Not long , we only became official today,but-"

"How long have you been fucking" he asked not sure if it was an appropriate topic

Y/n looked to logan to see if she could actually tell him how long it'd been . With the nod of his head she mentally tried to remember the first time " post season testing" she said

"Wait, is that why they couldn't find you guys that day?"

"Didn't know they were looking , but yeah I guess"

" I have alot of people to collect bet money from , have you announced anything yet or are you keeping it a secret?" He asked wanting to know when he would get his cash flow

"Were not sure yet , probably going to give it a few months before telling people"

"Thats fair , how long is Y/n staying with you then?"

"I've got like 3 days left before I go back to America and hopefully catch up on a year's worth of sleep" she laughed

"Based from what I've heard from the other side of that wall , you definitely aren't getting any sleep here" he laughed

"Oscar!" She said slapping his chest in embarrassment

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #logan sargeant #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smut

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iaure · 1 year

Text

𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁; 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗱

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟthe dearest collection - part one/beloved 𓆩♡𓆪 part two/prized 𓆩♡𓆪 part three/devoted 𓆩♡𓆪 part four/desperate 𓆩♡𓆪 part five/blind 𓆩♡𓆪 part six/watcher 𓆩♡𓆪 part seven/ardor 𓆩♡𓆪 part eight/fervor this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series.

yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city. the death of reader's brother, who was an officer, is mentioned. tw: general yandere behaviour, cyberstalking, stalking, harassment, slight nsfw, ptsd

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i am very flattered by the quick response that part one garnered! ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you everyone! every like, reblog, and comment means very much to me ♡ as such i wanted to get part two out as fast as possible. please enjoy leon's thoughts ♡

he met you in the aftermath.

♡ the nightmare was fresh, the dead still clung to leon's clothes, and he had no idea what to do.

♡ he still had sherry to take care of; but his mind was scattered.

♡ he had no family. he had just broken up with his girlfriend. he was out of a job, out of a home, out of a life.

♡ it was crushing.

♡ rather than try and let it show how badly he was being consumed, he decided to try and get some help. therapists were booked up by months, going to a hospital would mean sherry would be alone, and he barely had anyone to vent to.

♡ keyword: barely

♡ he had found an online forum via AOL and realised it was for survivors. at first, he posted a bit on an anonymous account, not wanting to stick around for long.

♡ he spoke about marvin, claire, ada, everyone he had met, the horrors he saw, with some discretion to the less believable parts.

♡ the people were kind. they spoke softly to him.

but then they turned to you.

♡ you had a post detailing your sorrow at the loss of your brother, who had been on what would've been Leon's squad, and how you tried to save him. but your brother was altruistic to a fault, and you couldn't save him from himself.

♡ his heart ached. he understood. he got it. he couldn't save marvin, after all. someone who was already gone is the worst kind of person to mourn.

♡ he began looking through some of your previous posts. it was a lot of you trying to give people advice, comfort, camaraderie in death.

you were so...achingly sweet.

♡ it was easy to start spiraling, truth be told. you were that kind. you were that overwhelming, like incense or perfume or chloroform.

♡ it started out just as friendly talking. Leon didn't want to put his name on the forum, nor did he really want to make an account, so he simply kept on commenting on anything you wrote.

♡ you were hurting, that's for sure. he was too. maybe you could hurt together.

♡ you were so compassionate, answering everything he sent with wise words and cautious exposure.

♡ after a while, you began to open up to him. luckily, he put his last initial as a calling card-K-so you would remember him, and soon enough it felt like you two were truly friends.

♡ you seemed to grieve differently from him, as evidenced from how quickly you seemed to shift from wounded to medic, to trying to help those in the forum.

he then got curious

♡ your username wasn't that strange, but it had your first name in it.

♡ from there, it was a simple search on the STARS database to find out who you were.

♡ and oh...you were just as lovely as he thought you were. your eyes, your skin, your face-everything was you.

♡ he took some liberties, sure. he printed out some of the photos from the database, took some home, held on in his wallet.

♡ maybe it was weird that he placed them in frames around his house.

♡ maybe it was bizarre that he slept with one of the photos. held in his arms, tucked under his pillow when he's not in his new apartment.

♡ the photos tie him over, in those restless nights where he's alone and wishes oh god that you were here that you were with him.

♡ he thinks about how soft you'd feel, how warm you'd be, how gentle the touch of your fingers would be against his arms, his chest, his-!

♡ maybe it was a bit creepy. he's not so delusional as to think it wasn't-not yet, at least.

that's okay, though. he's doing it out of love!

♡ he finally cracks. after a day of no response, he decides to abuse his power and find out where you are.

♡ and when he does, it's like the world is crumbling around him.

♡ you had gotten a job? you'd gone outside?

♡ it's good, sure. but at the same time, it's so alarming. was your job really so tiring that you couldn't do anything but go home and sleep?

♡ he sends a message, horrified at the idea, but realises how horrible of an idea it was to admit that he knew that you were working. but he can't delete it. it's really too late.

♡ he gives up. he knows he's destroyed any chance of getting to you online.

♡ he spends a day or two in a complete, shallow depression. it's like a withdrawal, and he's shaking, unable to sleep, staying up staring at his ceiling at his fuckup.

♡ he could always see you. where you work is only a block or two away.

♡ but that would be a step too far, wouldn't it? right?

♡ then he'd be no better than any other sleezeball.

but another day passes, and he can't take it anymore.

♡ he snaps, deciding to finally take that detour he's wanted since the day he found out where you worked. it's just around the corner from his gym, and he can't decide if he wants to work out first or visit you.

♡ but the urge is too much, and he sees you first.

♡ and...oh.

♡ you're everything, and more.

♡ seeing you in real life is almost too much. he stands outside of the door for what feels like hours, watching you just past the corner of your eye and praying that you didn't notice him yet.

♡ you don't, because you're dedicated and hardworking and smiling and laughing with your coworker about something, and it's like bells pealing and the heavens opening with the songs of angels. if the end times were coming, he hoped Gabriel's horn was your laugh.

♡ it takes him what was, realistically, about thirty minutes to even get the courage to go inside. after researching the bakery, he found that workers were given a commission in addition to normal pay, so that meant that he had to eat the most expensive things on the menu.

♡ truthfully, he didn't have much of a sweet tooth. he liked to keep fit, and sweets always managed to mess up his stomach.

♡ but the most expensive thing was a piece of cheesecake, and when he asked about it, you lit up and it was all worth it.

♡ the cheesecake was fine, but with your touch on the plate, he wanted to lick up every crumb.

he was addicted.

♡ he began coming in almost every day. just looking at you made his day brighter, with your smile like a sun. he dropped money at every moment, trying to talk with you every second.

♡ he could tell the moment you wanted him gone, the moment he overstayed his welcome, but he'd just come back the next day.

♡ there were several times he'd caught your eye, and he could feel you scanning him up and down.

♡ it felt almost lecherous, but he held those gazes so tightly in his mind's eye. god. you thought he was hot. maybe handsome? or cute? every possibility felt so intimate and made him so...warm, for lack of a polite word.

♡ now that he had confirmation that you thought he was cute, every inhibition was over. the proverbial pandora's box was unlocked, and that meant Leon needed to brush up in his sneaking.

♡ after all...there was nothing more 'you' than inside your home ♡

#yandere resident evil x reader #yandere resident evil #yandere leon kennedy x reader #yandere x reader #yandere leon kennedy #˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ palabras muertas #divagaciones (per)

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fandoms-in-law · 6 months

Text

Trees Bend

Summary: Steve figures out he's bisexual and starts using a metaphor to counter people when they call him the straightest.

Author's note: I was in a Christian puppet group as a teen and in one of the sketches I had to practise puppetry to, the tree metaphor was used for a guy who wouldn't go to church if his pew was taken. After reading all the fics where spaghetti is used as a metaphor I thought the tree one fitted here too so I wrote it.

/\/\

It started with Robin, except it really didn't. Steve knew that she would listen, understand and believe him about the thoughts and feelings going through his brain. That was exactly what happened when he shared that he was fairly sure he had a crush on Eddie, that he'd probably had crushes he'd suppressed in the past.

She'd hugged him and asked if he wanted help working through it, or to just ramble about his crush. Between them they started to try and find out if there was a label for being attracted to both men and women. The discovery of bisexuality as a term took a long time to find for the pair of them, but a welcome find.

…

The actual start of it all was Dustin. The brat was somehow still convinced that Steve and Eddie didn't get along and needed to spend time around each other to do so.

Steve wasn't against the idea, actually he was going along with almost all of the kids ideas to get them talking and spending time together. He'd agreed to have Hellfire move to his house so Eddie could remain part of it and the rest of them could hang out at the same time even.

“I just don't get why you don't like Eddie.” Dustin began almost as soon as he was in the car for a lift to the arcade this time. “You and Robin have said you're trauma bonded often enough so why isn't that working here.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I do like Eddie, probably more than you want, and the fact you refuse to see that is getting annoying now.”

“Is it because he's gay? Is that why you don't like him?” Of course Dustin didn't listen to his words, but that wasn't why Steve abruptly pulled over.

After parking he twisted in his seat expression serious, “Did Eddie tell you that and did he give you permission to tell me that?”

“Why would he need to-” It was clear Dustin was floundering with his response.

“Is Eddie meeting you at the arcade?” Steve carried on, leaving explaining for a moment.

Dusting nodded slowly, and Steve turned to start the car again. “You are shutting up now. When we get there, you, Eddie and I are going to find somewhere quiet, or possibly just get straight back in the car and discuss just how badly you talking like that could go.”

For a few moments it looked like Dustin was going to argue but couldn't find the words, then he settled to staring at Steve and then back at him. It would have been a peaceful drive if he wasn't imagining a hundred reactions Eddie could have to being outed by Dustin and hoping he wouldn't be too upset by it.

Eddie was already outside the arcade when Steve got there, waiting with the other kids and clearly looking for them. The grin he had when coming to greet them dropped quickly at Steve's stern expression and Dustin's confused one. “Hey guys, took you a while.”

“Tell the other boys to go start playing. Dustin needs to apologise to you or have it explained to him why he needs to before we're going in.” Steve smiled but it was still tense, and he nodded towards the other kids, one hand going to Dustin's wrist when he tried to head out.

The words got Eddie yelling over his shoulder still trying to figure out what was happening and deciding to climb in the back of the Beamer when he realised how ready Dustin was to run off with his friends away from whatever had happened. “So that sounds ominous. What's up?”

“This shithead is still set that we don't like each other and was rambling trying to figure out why on the drive.” Steve gestured when Dustin remained silent for once.

“And he's gone insane. All I asked was if he doesn't like you because you're gay.” Dustin chose that point to exclaim, getting two frowns directed at him.

Steve nodded though. “That. That is not your place to share with anyone. Eddie has not told me that himself, and given you had no clue why I'd ask if he gave you permission to share it, he hasn't. You Do Not share anyone's sexuality with anybody else, unless they have given explicit permission to. I don't care that I'm safe. I don't care if you think you can tell who's safe and who's trustworthy. You do not share that information for other people.” He lectured, arms crossed to stop from pointing or getting in Dustin's face to emphasis.

“Geez Kid, I told that to Hellfire because Wheeler was being a shithead about some NPC's. For a bunch of little genius's if you're gonna out me for no reason I'll go hang with Jason to see how long I survive.” Eddie groaned. “Everything Steve just said. Don't out me to anyone, don't out anybody to anyone else unless they've told you to.”

“Another secret to keep? Why the fuck does everything need to be a secret?” Dustin tried to argue. “I want to talk with my friends about them sometimes.”

Steve levelled a glare at him. “And that should not include information that could easily get them killed. It's easy to not mention someone's sexuality. We do it every fucking day. You need to apologise for it and never do it again.”

“Sorry, I guess. I just thought it was why you two don't get along cause You suspected and are like the straightest of the straights.” Dustin grumbled, barely even turning to look at Eddie when he wanted to keep arguing the point.

Steve huffed a little but decided against openly saying anything about it. “Definitely not the non-existent reason Eddie and I don't get along. I like Eddie. He's my friend just like you are and deserves a better apology than that.”

“And seeing Mom Steve defensive for me does not qualify as that apology. It's just very flattering and I'm so grateful this was your response to Mr Thoughtless's words.” Eddie grinned, softening Steve's expression with how relaxed he was being over it.

Dustin looked between them, frowning before letting out a heavy sigh. “I'm sorry alright. I didn't realise it was such a big thing to do. I won't do it again.”

Steve looked back at Eddie, waiting until he nodded, accepting the apology with a “Your PC will die if you do it again.”

“Let's go see Max destroy you all at video games then.” he agreed, unsurprised when Dustin was immediately out of the car and racing into the arcade.

“Thanks for doing that, Steve. I really wasn't sure if you'd accept me coming out.” Eddie lingered, speaking quietly so people passing didn't hear.

Steve just shrugged, locking his car and heading into the arcade, “Course man, I'd hate it if that happened to me.”

“Wait what?”

He smirked over his shoulder, glancing over the trees that lined the street. “I've decided to take a few lessons from the trees. I bet that one bends and waves when storms come in.” He stated before disappearing through the doors. It had been one of the things that he and Robin had tried using to describe who he's attracted to and he liked it more than spaghetti. Trees are strong and stood tall, even a toddler could break uncooked spaghetti into pieces.

…

It happened again during a Hellfire night a few weeks later and honestly Steve wasn't annoyed by it.

He'd been absently listening to the game, treating it like a story with actors except he could hear the thoughts of the people writing it. At the point they'd reached there had been a discussion going on about how to get information from a guard they'd yet to annoy and Gareth had suggested flirting with him.

“No, man, no. I get that you think you'll be able to get all the information that way but just look at him – he's... Actually Eddie other than in the kingdom's armour what does this guy look like?” Jeff had protested, making a few of them grin at his argument against Gareth's plan being interrupted to ask for description.

Eddie smirked, but sat up to begin narrating, “Currently the guard is watching you huddle away from him in bemusement, an eyebrow arched in curiosity over what you're doing. His hair is carefully styled away from his face with his helmet held under one arm. He's got piercing brown eyes and a clear tan on his face and hands.”

“You're making our strategising take time in the game, dude.” Mike groaned, “No fair.”

“Besides that makes my point. This guard sounds like if Harrington was a guard and couldn't have his fluffy hair. He's not going to go for your flirting Gareth.” Jeff insisted, turning along with most of the table when Steve snickered.

Steve just gestured out the window. “I'm like a tree out there. Pretty bendable if necessary and I choose what's necessary.”

“That makes no sense!” A few of the kids exclaimed but Gareth and Eddie both had considering looks on their faces.

A moment later Gareth's decision was made as he reached out for a die. “I want to flirt with the guard to ask if he knows whether the treasure we want is owned by the kingdom.”

“Roll charisma.” Eddie agreed, over the top of Jeff's repeated protests.

…

The final time Steve confused everyone with his tree metaphor was a film night and he didn't need to say it to be the one confusing them all.

He'd made a comment about Luke's boots and started a conversation or rather a debate among the kids over whether you could assume someone's sexuality based on what they wear. It was quite amusing to see, especially when Eddie decided to try fanning the flames with contradictory comments the kids could have known which were meant and which weren't if they'd only watched his expression. Some he grinned as he said them, others were said through a smirk one twitch away from becoming a grimace but all of them had someone arguing with them.

Nancy was the one to eventually get annoyed with the debate after it was around twenty minutes long. “Come on guys, you're slowly deciding that any guy wearing fancy clothes or who puts time into his looks must be gay and that entirely ignores the evidence that is Steve sitting right there, straighter than anyone.”

Robin, Steve and Eddie all snickered at that, even more so when Dustin piped up, “Can't say that Nancy. He'll compare himself to a tree again and refuse to explain more.”

“Now now, Dusty-bun, tree metaphors can be very enlightening if you only pay attention to how they're described.” Eddie leaned over putting on a voice as if he were disclosing sage advice.

“He just stays the trees are straight too but bendable in the weather. It's nonsense.” Mike protested.

Steve shrugged when Nancy and Jonathan turned to look at him. “So you are bendable? What are you subtly trying to say you are?” Jonathan asked, eyes narrowed as if already anticipating the answer.

“That I'm not as straight as you all keep insisting I am? I'm bisexual, attracted to both, and kind of getting bored of everyone calling me the straightest of the straights.” He explained easily, leaning back between Eddie and Robin on the sofa.

Most of them nodded then, before Dustin exclaimed, “But why trees? Seriously? So many other things could be used for that but you keep going on about trees? Are you a gardener without telling us?”

“One, why would I tell you about gardening if that was my hobby? You only ever want to talk about your game and I've had you try to give me a character type enough time that I don't need new ones considering any hobbies I might not have shared with you? Two, Trees are strong. They're so strong that we make houses, furniture, a whole host of things from them, and while everyone thinks they're completely still they move a heck of a lot, not just with the wind but in growth and with the seasons. Course I want to be a tree, I'm like the strength of the group trying to fight the battles head on so you guys can do something smart to actually defeat the monsters while they're distracted. It fits.” Steve rambled now, enjoying giving in more to the way he found easiest to identify as if uncertain how accepting people would be.

“Plus I really want to climb you like a tree. So it even works there.” Eddie quipped, getting groans from the kids but a curious smile from Steve.

Before Steve could reply Robin's hand was over his mouth. “Thanks for that image, Eddie, how about you put a pin in that to talk about when you and Steve are alone and not in front of the kids or me.”

Eddie grinned then, nodding, “Sounds good to me. When are we sneaking off together, Stevie?”

“We could now.” Steve offered, shifting to stand before Robin pulled him back down.

“After the film is over and we're heading home.” Nancy stated to pouts from both men.

When they disappeared under the guise of getting more snacks and drinks 10 minutes later she just sighed.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #Coming out #steddie #bisexual Steve #sexuality metaphors #dustin henderson #accidental outing

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baby-alien11 · 11 months

Note

can I get a poly chad x fem!reader x Tara headcannons for scream 6 with no ghostface? reader is a roommate of Anika’s or something!

Hii anon, thanks for sending the request

I hope you like how I wrote your idea

being in a relationship with Chad and Tara

You've been friends with Anika since elementary school so it wasn't a surprise that both of you decided to go to the same college as roomates

Arriving at Blackmore, both of you entered your shared dorm noticing a girl already there accommodating her things in one of the rooms, along with her brother and other girl shorter than the both of them

That's how you and Anika ended being part of the Core Four group, along with Ethan who was roomie with Chad, and Quinn who shared an appartment with Sam and Tara

Soon enough, Anika and Mindy started dating

While you, Chad and Tara got close

Even when the three of you had different majors, study sessions almost everyday were now a tradition

That study sessions and all the time that the three of you spend together, alone or with the whole group, made new feelings develope between you three

Of course it wasn't a surprise that you liked boys and girls, basically you and Anika came out almost at the same time

During movie nights the three of you sat together in the same sofa, alternating the person who's turn is next to sit in the middle

They even trusted you so much, that they told you what they went trough last year in Woodsboro

And after hearing that, you ended up crying an telling them how strong they were for surviving that horrible experience

The most time you spend with both of them, you realised the feelings developing towards the two of them

But you didn't tell them those feelings because you didn't know how could they react to that

That was until during a dinner night in a cafeteria close to the apartment, Chad decided to do something about the situation

"I like you", Chad suddenly said

Hearing those three words, you and Tara looked at each other in confussion because he said that so abruptly

"Context please", you asked still confused

"Please promise me that you won't run after this, both of you", Chad spoke at what you and Tara nodded, "Okay, here we go, in this last months I've started to develope feelings for both of you, like more than friends"

"Thank God I'm not the only one who felt this way", you sighed in relief

"Wait, really?", Tara asked with a little smile

"It's not a secret I like boys and girls", you shrugged

"So, I guess we all in the same page", Chad continued now smiling, "What if we tried something? A relationship between the three of us, if it doesn't work we forget this happened and continue as friends, how does it sound?"

Sharing a look with Tara for a few seconds, both of you nodded with little smiles

"Throuple power! High five!", Chad exclaimed with excitement rasing both of his hands

"If you do that again we will break up with you", Tara threatened

That same night, the rest of the group was informed of the relationship situation, and certainly they had a mix of emotions like surprise, confusion and happiness

Things didn't change a lot after the relationship started

During go outs, Chad carried two jackets, one for the both of you

He didn't saw those jackets after that

On movie nights, the two place sofa was now yours, you and Chad sitting in it and Tara on top of both of you due to her being the smallest

Cooking together dinner for everyone (which almost all the time ended up with a little disaster)

Lots of cuddling, specially after an stressful day of classes

When you are late for class and have to run around the campus to go to your respective classes, Chad decided at one point to carry both of you and Tara to run towards your classrooms in order to be on time

Chad even let Tara and you to do make ups on him just for fun and post some of the photos on Instagram

The first kiss between the three of you was a little akward because when you attempted do do it, all of your noses collided with each other leaving a bruise in your noses for a few days

Chad is a simp

He often carry both of your bags around campus, your purses when going out to dinner or during shopping, if one of you had to do a big project he would carry it, doesn't matter how small or big it is

At parties, Tara had the habit to drink more than her body could hold, so you and Chad had to hold her hand in order to not loose her in the crowd

There was one time when she arrived too drunk to the apartment that you and Chad had to sit for two hours listening to Sam scolding you for letting Tara drink her weight in alcohol

Of course Quinn filmed the entire thing and send it to the groupchat

After that, both of you made sure to make her throw up before leaving the party and gave her water to hydratate

Of course, after a month of trying the whole throuple thing, everything worked well so the relationship continued

#baby alien creations #baby alien requests #scream #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x fem reader #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter fanfic #scream franchise #tara carpenter fluff #jenna ortega

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olliesneweyes · 15 days

Text

Wanted to flesh out and add more headcanons to this ↑, so that'll be under the cut!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

This post by my friend(?) Is basically what I mean by he's chaotic academia lol

⫘⫘ Messy as hell handwriting that only he can read, although sometimes he can't read it either and struggles with remembering what he wrote

i feel like he'd have a typewriter in his room for important notes because of this (no idea if those actually existed when idv takes place but we have cypher machines which seem pretty similar so-)

He's always, always doing something with his hands.

if he's not writing on his notes, he's doodling abstract shapes or concept inventions on them.

And if he's not doing that, then he either has something to fidget with or tinker on, or he's playing with his hands.

⫘⫘ speaking of hands, to me he only wears one glove because they irritate his scarred hand.

He should take regular breaks so his hands don't cramp and hurt, but he's usually so engrossed in his tasks that he forgets it's even a problem.

⫘⫘ He talks a lot! But sometimes it's not just the chatty type of talking but a cacophony of thoughts and ideas that his brain works him up into and needs to be dragged out of him by the only way he can.

If you're not his friend already and you end up on the listening end of one of these, as long as you don't actively recoil from it you've probably gained a ton of trust with him.

⫘⫘ Part of talking so much with everyone is that he has a lot of friends! But he doesn't really have many friends, you know? There's only a select few he trusts properly.

⫘⫘ His memory tends to go blank on things like the date or time.

He's worried quite a few people by not realising it was a holiday, and commenting on it with confusion.

More minor holidays like Easter and Valentine's Day are the easiest to forget, because people don't really decorate for them.

He has Several alarm clocks for timing, but he usually asks people to immediately come and get him if he's needed for something and isn't there.

Due to this, he's been part of things he wasn't supposed to be, because he generally trusts that he's just forgotten he was meant to be there.

Of course he has distorted dreams of the incident, but he actually has quite a lot that revolve around his prison time.

⫘⫘ He has a lot of night terrors. There's been so many nights where he's jolted up, heart racing, and couldn't tell what was real or fake or where he was for a while.

He was treated... extremely badly there. Any excuse to take frustrations out on a rich person was taken liberally by the other people. Prisoners, guards, all of them.

Lots of both physical and mental trauma helped to cement his broken mental state and lack of memory, as well. Being hurt like that is not going for your head.

After all, one of his canon dislikes are "implements of torture"

⫘⫘ He's pretty good at decoding when he decides to do a match! He avoids hunters pretty well too. Unfortunately, they don't like him very much...

He always HATES the rocket chairs. Not necessarily what happens after he's eliminated, although that's startling too. It's actually being strapped down to it that makes him panic.

He doesn't like being stuck to anything, and he especially doesn't like it when the hunters are usually nearby ready to hurt him.

⫘⫘ It's alright though, because he has his chain! He's augmented it in order to create the static charges you see in the matches.

There is just one teensy little problem. After coming to the makeshift hospital ward after blacking out while using his abilities a couple of times, he was asked what he did to keep his electricity generator from shocking him. He didn't have an answer.

As it turns out, he's rather numb in certain parts of his body. Including his neck. And as he was only focused on this invention being effective, he never quite realised that it might be a danger to have it near his already messed up brain.

He's trying to refine it so it doesn't do that, but he's advised to stay out of matches for now.

⫘⫘ he's not the best with self care. At all.

his hair is VERY messy, so it's tied in place with a lot of unconventional things.

Ribbons, wires, gears to wrap it around, clasps, and more. He even kept it tied with a pair of pliers one time. He just needs it up. It's a sensory thing.

But on a less light hearted note, he usually forgets to eat, and "forgets" to sleep while he's working.

If he does eat, he usually brings things like pastries from the main hall to his room.

And if he sleeps... The night terrors about killing his mentor are much more vivid when he jolts up to a desk that looks exactly as it always did back then.

⫘⫘ he doesn't work on his invention. He desperately wants to, but he can't.

Even for someone with good memory, trying to continue a project you last worked on YEARS ago, completely from scratch, is hard.

But he barely remembers what it was meant to do. His life's devotion, shattered to pieces in his mind because of a stupid impulsive accident he feels that he caused. It breaks him.

So he works on other things. Everything and everything will be tinkered with, because maybe he can remember what he wanted. Someday. Through desperate notes and ramblings and trying to weld the puzzle pieces together in his mind.

Grasping for it even as it slips away the more he tries to think of what it was...

⫘⫘ He has friends now. And he'll do whatever they want to do. Anything to distract himself from his plight.

They're the main reason he takes self care at all, besides keeping up appearances. He doesn't feel as alone when everyone is struggling with him.

His room is full of little gifts for them. Might as well put his knowledge to things that make them happy, right?

#identity v #idv #idv prisoner #identity v prisoner #idv luca

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glazelilysoup · 1 year

Text

how you met alhaitham

content: reader is gn, alhaitham is blunt, implied as a spantamad researcher, reader is sleepy, i don't think the house of daena has an upper floor but a girl can pretend, might be ooc, i don't think there are any legitimate warnings, its just fluffy

info: this was supposed to be headcanons with multiple characters, but i got really into it and wrote too much. might do similar concepts with other characters (as originally planned) in the future. i wrote this over the course of 3 days and it was usually at midnight, so it's not the greatest. gets progressively worse the more you read.

word count: 1.4k

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

times like these were enjoyed immensely by both you and the scribe. it often became the most anticipated part of your days. it began with the fact that alhaitham had wanted more space than usual, and as a result, had gone to the largely unoccupied upper floor. there were fewer shelves on these higher floors, largely used for works of fiction. it wasn't often researchers indulged in anything but facts, so the area became frequented by those looking for solitude.

he took note of how every large table had multiple people sitting there- after all, a crowded library will still be crowded even in the most secluded spots- so he walked clear to the other side of the astoundingly huge library. it was a mirror of the other side, the same amount of tables in the same spots. just like before, every table had two or more people at them. he internally scowled before he viewed you in his peripherals. you were at a smaller table, alone, hidden away by a bookshelf.

you looked like you wanted to be alone, with your nose buried so deep in that book of yours- information on irminsul, he noticed. he surmised that wanting to be alone in the company of someone who had the same goal would be preferable to sitting next to someone as annoying as kaveh. he saw the small glance you took at his hand once it rested on the back of the chair, quickly going back to focus on your studying.

"may i sit here?" it was strange to hear the scribe be so quiet, but it was a library after all. you gave a terse nod, one that would have easily been missed had he not been the ever-perceptive scribe.

as time went slowly by, the scribe realised he may not have been as perceptive as he thought. every 50 pages or so, at a good stopping point, he would observe you for a few moments. you looked like you would pass out at any moment. a while later, you had adjusted your posture to have the book flat against the table and your head lingering just above it. not long after, your head was resting on your elbows, arms crossed, with hushed, relaxed breathing the only sound from you. no longer did you turn the pages.

alhaitham pondered his options for a moment. he could wake you up to spare you the embarrassment of being asleep for so long. on the other hand, you had looked very tired. he could let you sleep. he couldn't empathise with your current situation, so he settled to leave you be until either you woke up of your own accord, or until he left.

in all honesty, he was somewhat shocked to find that you were still asleep when he decided to leave. it had been hours, and there were exponentially fewer people than there were when he had arrived. "hey," he frowned when you had not even so much as stirred. he didn't want to be rude, but he resorted to his method of waking up kaveh. he slammed a book down on the table. it instantly proved fruitful as you jumped immediately, squeaking out a small "sorry!" he guessed that this was a more common occurrence than just this time.

"i apologise for the rude awakening. i had tried to wake you up other ways, and they hadn't worked." he found your shy expression and the pink that dusted your cheeks at this revelation to be quite endearing.

"oh lord- it's alright, i shouldn't have fallen asleep. uhm, would you mind telling me what time it is?"

"i believe it's slightly past eight o'clock." that's no good, that's no good at all, you promised your roommate you would make dinner tonight. you scrambled to collect your things, choosing not to notice how he watched you panic.

"thank you for waking me up, but i really must be going now," you didn't make it very far before he stopped you.

"hold on a second. you're still tired, i can see it in the way you move. i don't think it would be wise for you to walk alone in your current state. would you let me see you home safely?" it was truly appalling, the sheer amount of bluntness his words held. your pride told you to refuse because you were fine. but common sense was screaming at you to say yes. tiredness tugged at your eyes, blurring your vision and pulling your eyelids down.

again giving a small nod, but he was perceptive enough to pick up on it. as you exited the library, he asked you something, "i don't think i caught your name," oh, right. with how infamous the scribe was, you had already known him, yet he had no clue who you were.

"oh! it's y/n," he mouthed the word a few times, practising how it rolled off his tongue.

"y/n... i quite like that name," you saw the smallest hint of a smile and could've sworn you were hallucinating.

the next time alhaitham went to the library, he didn't bother with his usual assessment of how busy the library was. instead, he headed directly upstairs to your usual spot. one he got to the table, he didn't bother asking to sit, either. he knew you would let him. it had gone largely the same as last time, you fell asleep after an hour or two, and he had woken you up when he left. he walked you home just as he had before, as well.

those walks were always comforting, and though the sun was setting by the time the two of you left, his presence filled you with warmth.

this routine was repeated most days, and you two became quite good friends, often making thoughtful conversation should you see each other. provided you have free time, of course. unfortunately, alhaitham has been running low on just that recently. his position as the scribe became rather demanding, but you weren't too worried. he always made enough time to reach the library to wake you up, and sometimes he got there early enough to read. he wasn't the kind to keep to a routine, but this particular one gave him a semblance of normalcy that he quite liked.

one day, when he arrived at the house of daena, you were nowhere to be found. he felt a sort of... melancholy wash over him. when you had found him the next day and informed him that you simply hadn't the time to go to the library that day, he was glad that it was just a miscalculation, and that it wasn't any fault of his own. in his subconscious, he felt a pang of guilt for not being there lately. he vowed to arrive a bit earlier from now on.

the next day, alhaitham arrived at the time usually he did before he became incredibly busy. he had sat in the seat directly next to you, instead of across the table like usual. you raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it further. "y/n, would you humour me for a moment?"

humour? that was the last word you expected to come from the scribe's lips at this moment. "i guess it depends on what humouring you entails."

"go on a date with me," you nearly choked on your saliva, he didn't hesitate at all, "i just so happen to find your presence more enjoyable than most. is that such a bad thing?"

"not at all! it was just- unexpected," it took a moment to regain your composure, "i'd love to go on a date with you, 'haitham." he raised a brow at the nickname.

"i'll be here same time tomorrow to get you," and then he brought out his book and started reading as if nothing had just happened. once again, his blunt nature served only to shock and confuse you. after a while, sleep caught up to you, as usual. only this time, you had fallen asleep sitting up. strange, alhaitham thought, you always rested your head on the table when falling asleep. he figured you would adjust to lying on the table soon enough. he soon felt something hit his shoulder. as he looked over, he saw your head on his shoulder.

and although his face showed no change in expression he couldn't help but feel his ears get warmer, and for a split second, he could've sworn his heart ached.

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#glazelilysoup #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham fluff #al haitam x reader

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍… 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

hello everyone, okay so. I wrote this from my own personal experiences and pasts. it's something that I deal with. I don't feel anything pleasurable unless it's from a toy, nor can I put anything inside because it's painful. I also can't feel anything emotionally, when I first began to write this, it started off like how my life starts, but I realised I wasn't writing a story for you about my depression. I was writing a story about what I go through with men. I hope you enjoy it and know I'm always here for you if you go through something similar- the part with johnny is a true story, but the part with ari is sadly not. I apologise if this is bad.

summary - you meet a man who brings security into your life, making the men in your past no longer matter.

warning - angst, slight smut but not really, graphic in some sense, mentions of blood and pee, hint to a traumatic experience but nothing detailed, emotionally cut off, depression, slight fluff.

18+ only please, the gif and header aren’t mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Maybe there was something wrong with you.

Because there lying between your legs was a gorgeous man, doing everything in his power to please you, but you felt no pleasure. You could feel how his tongue swept across your folds, probably trying to locate your clit that not even you could find. You always thought that maybe you weren’t gifted one when you were born, but that couldn’t be possible, right? Because when you brought out your toy specifically made to vibrate that little button. You felt everything and more.

But this beautiful, god-like man is thrusting his tongue inside your not-so-lubricant hole, and you felt bad because you could tell he was trying his hardest to make this about you, but unfortunately, you would never feel the pleasure he wanted you to feel. And when your eyes meet his pretty blues, you offer a soft smile because you can’t let that fake moan you let others hear fall from your lips for him. He was too kind and precious, and you dread the day he realises you feel nothing because then he’ll leave, and you’ll be back to being alone and broken.

Your head falls back, and your mind begins to drift as this takes you back to the same thing that happened years ago.

You finally turned eighteen and thought you’d give men a shot again. So you downloaded the dating app everyone else had in hopes of finding a relationship that could last. You swiped through men, chatting with some but slowly drifting away because you didn’t know how to communicate with them anymore. They seemed to want something you didn’t want to do again.

But then you found him. Johnny Storm, oh my. What a dream he was. You were stupid. You thought that the conversations you had meant something, thought that when he said he only wanted casual, he’d changed his mind when you two hung out. You were a naive girl who had already been through hell yet still wanted a fairytale ending.

You remember when you decided to meet Johnny.

You got yourself all dolled up, dressing in a short sundress that didn’t fit your body well, but no one ever told you. You made sure you were shaved and smelled lovely. You were excited because you were stupid.

Meeting Johnny was… Fun. You could remember everything. You could remember the colour of his car. His face, everything he did and said. You could remember the pain.

You didn’t feel pleasure when he went down on you. The feeling felt like a cat’s tongue. You could remember that he didn’t even see if you had finished before climbing on top of you and covering you in his cum. But you were stupid. At the time, you didn’t see that as a problem.

You felt pain when his finger/fingers went inside you, even if they were covered in lube. The feeling hurt. It felt like someone had shoved so many knives inside of you. But you didn’t say anything. You pretended it felt good, you faked those moans, and he didn’t notice. Not even when he saw the blood on his fingers, but you remembered it all. You could still feel the stinging pain when you tried to pee. You remembered the blood and the doctor saying there was a tear. But that didn’t stop you because you were stupid.

The pain got worse when he slid his cock inside you. It never subsided, and the pain was never replaced with pleasure. But you faked it because you didn’t want to hurt his ego. After all, you thought there was something wrong with you.

You remember going to the doctor and asking what was wrong with you. Only for them to reply that everything will continue to hurt because your mind and body weren’t comfortable, all because of your trauma. You should’ve followed orders when your doctor said not to have sex until your mind relaxed. But you didn’t listen because you thought he would leave you if you stopped giving him what he wanted.

Johnny never noticed. He kept reminding you that this was casual and that he didn’t want a relationship. And you should’ve listened. Instead, you continued until one fateful night.

The two of you were lying next to each other, a tv show playing in the background as you talked. Somehow, you got on the topic of your weight.

“I’m fat.” You pout, looking down at your stomach. It was playful but also the truth, but you guessed Johnny didn’t get the memo.

He looked at you smugly. “You’re not fat.” You looked up at him, hopeful. “Just a little overweight.”

Your brows furrowed. “That’s fat. You just admitted I was fat.”

He shakes his head, “No. I said a little overweight.” And he kept repeating the word like it would make things better. But it never did after that. You got into a fight, and he left. What hurt the most wasn’t the physical pain or that he left. It was finding out he got into a relationship the moment the two of you stopped speaking.

“Y/n. Y/n, baby.” You blink, sucking in a breath as your eyes connect with those pretty blues again. Ari smiles, “Hey, where’d you go?” You desperately didn’t want to disappoint this man, so you kissed him. One hand rests on his chest, and the other grabs his hand, guiding it to your entrance. Even though in the back of your mind, you know it’ll hurt.

Ari was confused. He felt like something was wrong when he was between your thighs, and it was confirmed when you seemed to zone out, but now, Ari’s unsure of what was happening. He pulls back and looks you in the eyes, “Are you sure? We don’t have to, little dove.” You nod, eyes wide as you look into his. He watches your expression as he slowly pushes a finger inside, barely being able to with how tight you are. And he stops, pulling away from you when he hears the pained whimper.

You lie there with your eyes tightly screwed shut. Not wanting to see the one man you’ve felt something for, leave.

Ari slowly moves closer, grabbing a blanket and covering you. “Y/n. Open your eyes.” His voice is so gentle, so caring that it scares you. His hand softly strokes your cheek, and you can feel your heart breaking when he pulls you closer to him. No one’s ever treated you so kindly before. “It’s okay. I’m here if you need me.”

You felt lucky, silently thanking the universe for sending Ari your way. You met Ari on a whim, deciding to give the dating app another go but as a more hardened and cold person. You thought you’d see how an older man would treat you, and there were some you didn’t like but Ari. Oh, he was beautiful and so kind. He never mentioned sex or anything dirty. Instead, he wanted to get coffee, but only if you felt comfortable.

So you met him, and when your eyes connected, you felt safe, something you’d never felt before. He stood and greeted you, pulling your chair out before offering to pay. Ari didn’t pressure you, and he didn’t make you feel awkward for not knowing how to continue a conversation. He was so patient, and that one meeting turned into more. You had only kissed a few times, but he’d never take anything further.

Today was different... You wanted to give Ari the one thing you thought he wanted. But now, you ruined it. Because you couldn’t fake it with him, you couldn’t push through the pain and discomfort. You couldn’t make him believe he was pleasuring you when you felt nothing.

You slowly open your eyes, connecting with his again, but yours are both filled with sadness this time. “I’m sorry.” Ari could feel his heart breaking at the whisper of your voice, not knowing why you were apologising for something you didn’t do. “I’m a disappointment… I’m so sorry. If you want to leave, I won’t blame you.” Even as those words fall from your lips, you feel nothing. You feel empty, but there’s also a little warmth inside that you know will disappear when he does.

Ari’s brows furrow and his hold on you tightens. Your words ring in his head, and Ari can feel tears building up in his eyes. He’s already aware that you are shut off emotionally, but the way those words roll off your tongue, he knows you’ve been hurt so many times that it’s become normal for you. Ari clears his throat, holding back the sobs that desperately try to escape before he lifts your chin, your eyes connecting again.

“Don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong. You aren’t a disappointment, and I’m not leaving.” He practically growls. He leans forward and presses a rough but loving kiss against your forehead. He stares at you with so much passion that it scares you. You can feel goosebumps rise from his touch. “I won’t force you to do something that hurts or makes you uncomfortable. I’m a grown man, Y/n. I can either wait until you are ready or live without it. Because I am not letting you go, I told you I was all in. I’m not letting something like this break that promise.” His words are so full of passion that you swear you could cry.

“A–Are you sure? Because I will understand and won’t blame you. I know there’s something wrong with me.” You roll over as you speak, hesitantly resting your chin on his chest while looking at him.

Ari’s hands curl into fists, wanting to kill those who made you think this. “There’s nothing wrong with you, little dove. And if anyone ever tells you otherwise, I will kill them.” He pulls you flush against him, your face close to his. “We will take our time. We will go your pace, and you will not rush and harm yourself just because you think I’m disappointed. Understood?”

You nod, your mouth opening and closing as shock fills you. “Understood…” The word falls from your lips in a soft whisper, never having someone put you first.

Ari nods. “Good, now come here.” And as those words leave him, he pulls you into the most passionate and loving kiss. And you swear…

You felt…

Something.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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sunoosets · 1 year

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HELLO!! you sound so cool ahhh I can't wait for your upcoming works! ❤️ could you do an arisu x reader? or if you've written something about arisu before where you wrote your aib smut, could you post it please? i'm thirsthy for some more of arisu x reader oneshots 😭 could be fluff or smut I don't mind any!! I hope that makes sense but I really can't wait for your upcoming works! 🤭

you're in luck...enjoy ;)

[1.3k words.] [Warning: Smut. Thigh-riding🤭 Regular riding lmao. Technically doing it in front of someone.. Normality AU !]

(Was originally on my Wattpad, please don't copy.)

"Arisuuu." I whined, dragging out the syllables of his name. The boy grunted softly, biting into his lip as his fingers effortlessly brushed across the buttons of his controller. His arms and legs would jerk with any sudden movements in the game, showing clearly he was invested.

I sighed beneath my breath. Blinking at the back of his head, where shaggy dark hair coated his neck. "Yes, yes!" He exclaimed, pumping the air with his fist as he reached an achievement. My eyes subtly rolled, before I decided my course of action. A smirk twitched upon my lips, and I rose from the edge of his bed. Keeping quiet as I walked toward his desk and chair. "You should take that side. I'll cover the other." Arisu nodded firmly, speaking into his mic.

I smiled sweetly, brushing my palm against the arm of his seat. My eyes flicked over him, watching as his glossy gaze lifted to meet my presence. Only for a moment. He acknowledged me, for a second, before giving his attention back to the game. "Oh, hi Y/n." He mumbled, vision still trained on the screen.

I narrowed my eyes, huffing just slightly before moving my body to the centre of his sight. I turned and gently lowered myself onto his lap. He shuffled lightly. His legs stretching out so one had been situated unknowingly between my thighs. He snaked one arm beneath mine and rested his opposite elbow on the arm of his chair so he could continue playing. Arisu's head tilted to the side, allowing his beloved game to be, again, the centre of his attention. The dark strands of his hair fell over his eyes and I groaned softly. Annoyed at how oblivious this boy could be.

"Hey! Hey! Watch out!" Arisu called, raising a hand to reposition his mic. I watched the screen as he and his online friends slayed an unknown creature. "We did it!" The boy chuckled in joy. I could hear his grin, but that wasn't on my mind right now. As he yelled out, he excitedly rose his leg. A simple jerk, as he usually did. Yet he was oblivious to the fact his leg was between mine, and his thigh had mistakenly jerked up against my clothed clit.

I gasped, slapping a hand over my lips. My eyes grew in shock. Waiting for Arisu to care. He didn't.

Again, he became too invested, and rose his leg sharply at another victory. This time my gasp had sounded more breathy. High-pitched. Less like a gasp, and more like a whimper.

Arisu continued, paying no mind to my state. His own girlfriend. Heat rose across my cheeks, and a familiar sensation of slick spread against my clit. I was becoming increasingly wet, and at this point I couldn't help but roll my hips. Arisu finally tensed beneath me. His muscles froze as I rubbed my damp underwear against the fabric of his joggers.

I was wearing only an oversized shirt. His, actually. Though I doubt he had noticed it. My breath hitched, and a high whine left my parted lips. I reached to place my fingers on the brim of my shirt, lifting it to my stomach, and pressing my pussy harder against his thigh.

"Y/n?" He questioned innocently. I watched in anticipation - through drowsy eyes - as he placed his controller in one hand. He moved his other palm to my hip, where he lightly left it there. Resting it on my smooth skin. "Y/n, what are you doing..are-" He paused, puzzlement in his tone. His grip grew stronger as he realised. "Arisu." I whimpered beneath my breath. "Arisu." I repeated, but higher and louder. My hands clamped around either side of his chair, feeling as my high came closer with every buck of my hips. I grinded against him, feeling the wetness of my pants transfer to his.

Arisu's face turned red and his frozen limbs relaxed. His hand loosened until a loud moan slipped from my mouth. I threw my head back as I came. Spilling myself into my pants, and letting the substance drip across his pants. The material beneath me tightened as he processed the situation before him.

"Y/n!" He whisper-yelled, slapping his left hand across my mouth. My eyes rolled as I came down from my high. "I'm..I'm still on call!" He stuttered out, biting his lip in nervousness. His palm remained against my face, suppressing any noises I could make. It intrigued me. If he didn't want his friends to hear maybe he should have paid me some form of attention today?

The only thing I could do now was to make him moan. Make him scream my name. Whine and groan with that pretty mouth of his, right in my ear. I clenched around nothing at the lewd thoughts. My ass then pushed back against his growing erection. He grunted. I kept going, rolling myself against his cock. "Y/n." He breathed out, letting his breath fan out across my neck. My back was flush against his chest, where I could feel him heave. His heartbeat thump into my skin.

His dick twitched beneath his confines, poking desperately into my ass. Just begging to be used. I raised myself from his form, and he gladly removed his cock from his boxers, letting it brush my bare skin freely.

I shivered at the feeling of his naked tip, tracing across my skin. My thighs pressed together before I leant backwards, positioning myself with him edging between my folds. I then lowered myself down, widening my mouth as his cock stretched me out. I took him all, his entire dick, now pulsing against my walls. Our bodies pressed together, sweat already forming.

A soft whine slipped from his tongue, reaching my ear through the heat of his breath. "Y/n." He whispered, his controller falling against his desk. He moved his free hands to my sides, where he pushed his fingertips into my flesh. He moved me into positions that allowed his cock to hit deeper.

I gasped at the sensation. He was now balls-deep in me. Fucking me with that pretty, veiny dick of his. Sounds of pleasure emanated through the room as well as the rough sound of skin slapping. Arisu's pelvis pushed up into me as his hips stuttered. "Arisu, please." I bounced, addicted to the feel of his shaft brushing my insides. "Arisu, I need you." I whimpered, and the boy caught himself in a knot of moans. His breath hitched and his head fell against my shoulder, where he kissed my skin and suppressed his desperate screams.

"Fuck." I breathed out, gripping the sides of his chair. "I'm gonna-" My sentence was cut off by the small moan in my ear. Arisu's lips brushed against my earlobe. "Me too."

I picked my hips up and slammed myself down on him, letting his cock thrust up into my g-spot. Effectively causing me to cum. He groaned, head falling back against his headrest. I rode him through my orgasm, moaning quietly at every drop. Feeling as his cum filled me. Dripping down my inner thighs.

Exhaustion took over me and I came to a stop, relaxing against his chest as mine heaved. Arisu's dark hair fell away from his eyes, and I watched - Through the screen's reflection - his tired gaze trail across my body, and his Adams apple bob as he caught his breath.

Silence ensued, until the awkward cough snapped us to reality. Arisu stared, wide-eyed at his headset. "Ayyy!" Karube yelled out, chuckling. "Did you just get laid?"

"Karube!" Arisu exclaimed in embarrassment. I simply smirked, laughing beneath my breath as Arisu's red face soon portrayed a small, sheepish smile.

there you go, anon!

#aib #smut #arisu ryohei #arisu x you #arisu x reader #arisu smut #aib smut

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dutchvanwinkle · 1 year

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Mr Van der Linde Pt. 5 - Dutch x Reader

Hello again darlings! I hope those of you celebrating Easter / Ramadam / Passover are having a wonderful weekend, did you know this overlap only happens three times every century? How cool is that!! Whether you're observing a holiday or not, it's now time for us to all come together and fantasize about daddy Dutch :)

I would apologise for the wait between this chapter and the last, but I did say this fic would be relatively slow in updates. I wrote a good chuck of this chapter then decided I hated it, took some time away from it, came back, then realised it wasn't as bad as I'd made out in my head lol. It's a pretty fluffy one tbh, and even if it's not as long as the previous one I hope you still enjoy!

It's on ao3, too!

Summary: Your relationship with Dutch deepens when you spend more time with him after a stressful week.

Word count: 6,471

Content warnings: smut, mildly creepy dutch

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Despite everyone’s knowledge of the end of the academic year, not one of your group of friends took the responsibility of arranging the flat for you to all live in together for second year. So, once again, you and Karen were in the same one - with John, Abigail, Sean, and Javier across the hall in theirs. You didn’t mind much; you were all too deep in the habit of leaving your flats unlocked anyway so the others could wander in should they please. It was dumb, but you hadn’t been robbed yet and imagined that’s what it would take for you to change your ways.

Abigail had made extra dinner and you were the first to claim the portion, skipping across the hall and ambling in with a grin on your face. The two of you ate and chatted with the TV filling the background noise. Karen had joined not long after, and the three of you found yourselves sprawled on the sofa, tired from a full day.

Second year was noticeably harder, no more easing you into university life – the theory and assignments were tough. However, thanks to your hard work in the previous semester it wasn’t an impossible leap. It had been for some, Javier regularly coming around in an attempt to inconspicuously copy your coursework.

Just as you were mentally preparing yourself for the next day, the last before the weekend, your phone buzzed.

Naughty girl.

Dutch. You cleared your throat, pausing a moment before opening his message. He hadn’t taken any liberties with his possession of your phone number, and your inbox had been decidedly empty since the last time you saw him.

Was this the old-person way of flirting? Was it sexting? Hopefully, your response would allow room for clarification.

I was just in my photo gallery.

Oh. You smiled to yourself. Another message.

I almost dropped my phone.

Sorry, won’t happen again.

It better happen again, miss. I’ve already made good use of it, and now I’m in need of more.

Good god, the thought of him pleasuring himself to a photo of you brought heat all over your neck. “I’m just gonna use your bathroom,” you stood up to excuse yourself, getting no response from your friends.

Once inside, you looked around, knowing full well it was empty and quickly flicked the lock on the door, before pulling your top over your head. Glancing over your reflection in the mirror, you tried to figure out the best angle that’d reveal enough but not too much.

Eventually, you got an angle you were happy with, only your jaw in view and your tits on full display. You cropped the photo (including your bottom half was a bit too much, right now at least) when his name appeared in your notification bar again.

Too far?

Bless him, he could see you’d read his message but left him without a response for ten minutes. Without giving yourself time to chicken out, you sent the picture to him.

Sorry, I was distracted.

He read it instantly, and it took a full minute before you could see he was typing. Then the dots disappeared. Then reappeared. Then disappeared again. You smiled to yourself, pulling your top over your head and flushing the toilet for good measure, before venturing back out and returning to the sofa. Dutch finally decided on what to say once you’d made yourself comfy.

Come see me this weekend.

If only. A weekend being fucked repeatedly was just what you needed, exhaustion already settling into your mind thanks to your busy schedule being back in action. Unfortunately, said schedule was exactly why you couldn’t.

Can’t, sorry. I’m working tomorrow and Saturday.

Fuck work. I’ll pay you.

“What are you smiling at?”

You glanced up, Karen looking at you inquisitively, Abigail taking her attention off the TV in turn to see what the fuss was.

“Nothing?” you said casually.

“You’ve been grinning at that phone of yours for five minutes.”

“I have not been grinning.”

She raised a brow, the look on her face turning to intrigue.

“Please tell me it’s a guy. Or a girl. Or anything with a pulse,” Abigail pleaded, and you tutted while Karen cackled.

“I’ve told you I don’t have time for that crap! Besides, I’m perfectly fine as I am,” you said defensively, folding your arms and ignoring the buzz of a message on your phone.

“We all need a good screw now and again,” Karen said plainly, Abigail nodding in agreement.

Don’t we just. “Oh, and Maquire is providing that service well enough for you, is he?”

She shot you a glare, and as she was about to retort the main door opened, the man himself trailed by Javier and John.

“Yeah, alright,” John said, his phone held up against his ear while he set the bag of shopping on the counter.

“Hello ladies,” Javier greeted you all, beginning to put away their communal shop which was pathetically void of nutrients and taken up mostly by cans of beer.

Sean pulled off his boots, hopping a little before it gave and sighing proudly when it did. “Any of you want a drink?”

You shook your head, as did Abigail, but Karen held her hand out.

“Ah, that’s why I love ya,” he grinned, handing a can out to Karen who scoffed in disgust before snatching it from him.

“Okay, fine, yeah. I can do that. See you later,” John said, hanging up his call and letting his phone drop into his pocket.

“Everything okay?” Abigail asked while John played tetris stacking the beers in the fridge.

“Yeah, just my dad. He’s coming down this weekend.”

That got your attention. Surely not -

“Says Tilly’s been angling to see the city. He was just checking I was free to spend time with them.”

“Aw,” Abigail sat up, “will we get to see them?”

John shrugged, and your phone buzzed again.

I’m serious. read Dutch’s previous message to you, followed by his most recent one: Looking forward to seeing you.

You neglected to respond just yet, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. That man worked fast.

“Where are you gonna take them?”

“God knows. Knowing Dad,” John sat down beside Abigail, “he’ll have already drafted up a full itinerary.”

You smirked at the thought, a warmth growing in your chest.

Dutch was fond of John’s friends. They were a decent bunch, and he’d been glad to see their familiar faces when he and Tilly arrived in the city the next morning, dropping their bags at the hotel before coming to visit John’s flat. He reminded himself repeatedly not to comment on the lack of cleanliness students seemed to thrive in.

It was nice to see John, along with Javier who he’d watched grow up with his son. Abigail was extra friendly, and thanks to a little birdie he understood why. She was a nice girl. They were all nice. But the one he wanted to see the most was unfortunately yet to descend on the flat despite John’s assurance that everyone swings round all the time.

“I’m going out for a cigarette,” Dutch announced, departing the flat and being met with the doorway to yours opposite him. He tried his luck, finding it unlocked, and mentally chastised you for being careless. He wasn’t sure which room was yours, though he thought it a good enough excuse to have wandered into the wrong flat should anyone ask. Two of the doors were ajar, and after a peek, he found them empty. The flat was quiet, and he decided there was no harm in trying the closed ones. He knocked on the next door, getting no response and so pushing it open.

Dutch smiled to himself as the air entered his nose; it smelled just like you.

Thanks to the strange layout, he could see the end of your bed and a slight bump under the duvet where your feet lay. “Tut tut,” he hummed as he took a couple of steps in, “you really should keep it locked – oh.”

His brows pulled together as his voice died in his mouth at the sight of you fast asleep and bundled up in your bed, completely flat out. He debated waking you but was distracted by seeing the inside of your room for the first time. A little nosy never hurt anybody.

Hands in his pockets, he observed the pictures up on your wall and smiled fondly at the ones including his drunken son. Then, he glanced over the perfume bottles lined up near your small desk mirror, then to the books and paper laid out beside your laptop accompanied by an empty mug from the previous day. It was then that he turned his attention back to you, hair ruffled with one arm out of the covers.

Dutch sat on the edge of your bed and brushed a strand of hair from your peaceful face. It was enough to make you stir, and you cranked your eyes open. He smirked as he observed your expression, going from alarmed to relaxed when you realised it was him, then back to alarmed when you realised it was him.

“You really should lock your flat, and your door,” he greeted.

You rubbed your eyes, wondering if the man had come to visit you in a dream though it felt undeniably real as you remembered your conversation with John the previous day. “Or perhaps,” you said around a yawn, “strange men shouldn’t let themselves in and sit on my bed.”

“Strange men?” Dutch looked mildly offended. “I’d hate to know what you do with familiar men.”

“Very funny,” you grumbled, pulling the covers up to your neck. “What time is it?”

“Ten thirty. I didn’t think you were one to sleep in late.” His hand rested on your lower leg, and the added pressure was soothing and lessened your motivation further for starting your day.

“I’m not. But I’ve got a long day today, so I’m treating myself,” you shut your eyes and felt Dutch shift his weight on the bed. You felt his warmth over you before you felt the kiss he pressed to your cheek, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of it. It awoke other unsavoury sensations that you usually repressed in the morning.

It was as though he sensed it, brushing his hand up your leg and moving to kiss your jaw, an added tenderness compared to its predecessor. You sighed contently, the comfort of Dutch’s soft chuckle reaching your ears. There was no option but to give in, your eyes fluttering open as you shifted onto your back, allowing Dutch to manoeuvre himself on top of you. His face filled with pride, but when he moved in to kiss you, you put your hand up as a barricade.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you explained, and he huffed a laugh.

“I could care less. But, if you insist,” his hand travelled further up the path of your body, cupping your breast as his lips tended to your neck instead, which you bared for him gladly.

“Was it really worth coming all this way?” you asked, lazily watching him trail his lips around your skin.

“Of course,” he said, hardly breaking his path, “need I remind you of my lack of interest in desiring a thing. I prefer -”

“- to have it, right.” Dutch smiled up at you, and the tardy realisation hit you that you were now finishing his sentences. “How was the drive up?” you asked quickly, hoping to alleviate any teasing forming in his mind.

“Just swell,” he answered, trailing his hand underneath your pyjama top to knead your breasts. His fingers moved gently in circles, testing your tenderness as they neared your nipple and lightly tweaking the now erect buds. Then his mouth came down over the fabric, and he sucked one into his mouth, leaving a wet patch behind that he eyed fondly once he was done.

“You know,” you set up on your elbows, craning your neck to look at the door, “I really should lock my door. Just in case.”

Dutch placed his palm on your chest, applying pressure until you lay back down. “No no, you want to leave it unlocked, then you leave it unlocked.”

“I’m serious,” you attempted to sit up again but damn he was strong, “John lets himself in all the time.”

“Does he,” Dutch hummed, moving his head down to suck your nipple in again and released, “I ought to teach the boy some manners.”

“Dutch, it’s not funny. Let me lock the -”

As you tried to sit up Dutch applied his full weight onto you and mouthed at your neck while all the air was knocked from your lungs. Strong and heavy. It would be a comfort if you could only breathe, and grumbled incoherently at your body’s response to being trapped by him despite the danger of the situation.

“Now,” Dutch cooed, lifting his head and running his thumb along your chin, “don’t you worry. I’ve been fit to burst since you sent me those pictures.”

“I thought you -”

“I did, but it’s not the same.” With that, he eased off slightly as you gradually accepted this was a risk you’d just have to take, and wrapped his hand around your inner thigh to shift your legs apart. “Huh, looks like I’m not the only one.”

You frowned down to observe what he was looking at and were met with the moist material of your pyjama shorts. “Goddamnit.”

Dutch chuckled while he trailed his fingers up and down your mound, and it wasn’t long before you were grinding up in time with his movements. He always seemed to know the exact pressure and pace you wanted, and often reigned it back some so as to keep you frustrated. You were about to ask him to get on with it, considering the risk and limited time you had before your day started, when he removed his hand to undo his jeans and pull out his frustrated-looking cock. The man didn’t even look at you, nor give you any warning, before moving your shorts to the side and sliding right in. And curse your body once again, allowing him the smoothest of passages.

A sigh of relief left him, the sort one would make when sinking into a hot bath. He stayed there a moment, nosing at your neck and brushing his palm down your flank to your shorts, the fabric of which he bunched up in his hand. At least you weren’t wearing any underwear he would inevitably steal.

“How could this not be worth the journey,” he mused, and you realised he was in fact talking to himself. Still, you sighed out a laugh.

Dutch moved his torso off yours, straightening up to grab your outer thighs in each hand. His grip was tight, bruising almost, and he held you right where he wanted you as he pulled out and began thrusting in a slow, deep rhythm. His head tipped back, and you stayed watching him, the euphoric pleasure seeping over his face enough to keep you lubricated down below. It truly was nice to know you were the cause of such a response. Well, your body, at least.

“Now,” his heavy gaze met yours, and he leaned forward to plant one hand on your headboard and left the other gripping your hip, “let’s get to it, shall we?”

There was no room to answer before he deepened his thrusts, his thick cock thoroughly filling you. He was perfectly anchored to the bed and you, and being leant forward slightly enabled him to brush over the plush, pulsating spot inside you repeatedly. Swiftly building up your impending orgasm, you thanked your accommodation for not giving you squeaky beds despite their questionable quality.

Dutch’s grunts sounded at the same time as his thrusts, his lips pressed together to limit any other noise and you did the same, quiet gasps leaving you on occasion. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he asked through a laboured breath.

“Mhm,” you answered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him further in and it was the last bit of motivation he needed to fuck you into your mattress until silently you came, back arching and hands gripping the duvet beneath. Dutch continued to fuck into you while your orgasm ebbed away, and you bore through the over-stimulation until he pressed his hips as far forward as he could, filling you up as you felt his cock twitch inside you.

Your breath evened out while he dropped his head forward to run a hand through his hair. “My memory did not do you justice.”

“That right?” you tilted your head in amusement and he hummed his agreement while slowly pulling out and doing a poor job of catching his spend. Guess you’d be changing your sheets today.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked and you gestured to the door to your ensuite in agreement. While he was there, you pulled some wipes out from your side table and cleaned yourself up.

“What have you got planned for today?” you asked as he ventured back in, doing up the fasten of his belt.

“Probably get some food, walk around and see what we can find,” he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, gesturing to your fire alarm that was tactically covered by a sock. “You really are a naughty girl.”

You snorted a laugh and sat up, while he leaned on your desk and cracked your window open to blow the smoke out. “Are they not going to wonder where you are now?”

“I told them I was going for a cigarette.”

“Huh, smart.”

He raised his brows in agreement as he took another drag. “What time are you working until today?”

“Late,” you shrugged. “I’m on until close.”

Dutch tutted. “Well, my hotel isn’t far from your work, so you may as well stay with me. I’ll wait up.”

“I don’t recall telling you where I worked.”

He smirked, tapping the ash out the window. “You didn’t.”

“Then how -”

“I have my ways. I can be rather resourceful when I want to be.”

“No shit,” you scoffed, ignoring the slight creepiness of him having that knowledge. “But no, thank you, I’ll be too tired.”

“The hotel bed is very comfortable.”

“I said no. Besides, you have Tilly with you,” you said, Dutch shifting his position to be half-seated on your desk.

“She has her own room.” After a final drag, he stubbed out his cigarette and flicked it out your window. He walked over and sat on your bed again, taking your hand in his. “Just consider it?”

“Fine,” you acquiesced, “I will see how I feel after my shift.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, a pleased smile forming on his face and moved in to kiss your cheek before standing. “Be sure to say bye before you head off.”

“Whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes, and with that, he departed, and the urge to shower became urgent.

You had ten minutes to spare after getting washed and dressed, and couldn’t find anything to busy yourself with so you ended up visiting John’s flat after all. Your friends were all there when you entered, Tilly offered you a hug, and Mr Van der Linde greeted you casually when you entered the flat, like he hadn’t been pounding into you less than an hour ago.

“Here she is,” John smiled, “you feeling better?”

Dutch’s expression hardened so fast you could feel it, and you grumbled internally at John once again unintentionally putting his foot in it. “Yeah, fine,” you said quickly, “just needed some sleep.”

“Perhaps you should skip some lectures and catch up some more,” John teased.

“You’re actually going?” Javier scoffed from the sofa, taking his attention away from Tilly’s phone where she appeared to be showing him a video.

“You know I have to,” you deflected, walking over to sit on the arm of the sofa beside him.

“Eighty percent, you can stand to miss a few.”

With a playful tilt of your head, you raised your brows accusingly. “Not worth getting into the habit.”

“Get me a copy of the notes?” he asked sweetly, smiling up at you and taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. As always, you could never resist, nodding your understanding with a smirk. “Ah, Mr Van der Linde -” Javier’s expression dropped as he look at the man in question, “don’t tell my pa, okay?”

Before he could respond, Sean decided to get a word in. “My da doesn’t mind me not going, says it’s better I don’t get my head filled by those pompous academic types. N-no offence, Mr Van der Linde,” he held his arms up placatingly.

“Now, why would I be offended by that?” he asked, genuinely, though Sean visibly began to sweat.

“No reason! No reason at all -”

“And on that note,” you cleared your throat, deciding to save Sean before he inevitably fell further into his self-made hole. “I should get going. Nice to see you both again,” you said, mainly to Tilly, and hoped Dutch’s devious expression in response wasn’t as noticeable to anyone else.

If another person asked you to make a cocktail, you’d scream. It’s a Friday, do these people not know how filled to the brim with students this place was? You weren’t even sure why you offered cocktails at this stupid hour; everyone was too inebriated to even appreciate it, and who needs to spend extra on a drink when they’re out to get as plastered as they can, anyway? Just order a shot and be done with it -

“Whiskey old-fashioned, please.”

You turned, half-ready to lose your job for punching a patron and were met with a smiling Dutch on the other side of the bar.

“Seriously?” you gestured around yourself, both as to why he’d ordered that and why he was there in the first place.

“Why not?”

“It’s busy,” you grumbled, making an exasperated show of preparing the glass.

“Fine,” he chuckled, “just a double on ice will do.”

You offered him a grateful smile, scooping a few ice cubes out of the tray.

“Do you always speak to customers that way?”

“Only the annoying ones,” you shrugged.

“I’m in half a mind to tell your manager,” he raised his brows, leaning on the bar in a way that enhanced his arms as his burgundy shirt stretched around them.

“Do that and I’ll ask you for ID. You forget I also have the power to withhold... other things,” you slid the drink over to him, and as you were about to announce the total, he handed you a twenty. “It doesn’t cost that much.”

“It’s a tip.”

“No,” you lamented, refusing to be his charity case, “it all goes in a pot anyway.”

“Consider it an apology for my being a difficult customer,” he answered immediately. “And as a sweetener, so you don’t withhold your oh so generous offerings.”

You tutted and placed the change to sit stubbornly in front of him on the bar. “I -” your attention was pulled to someone new coming up to the bar, “hold on a second.”

After pouring out two vodka cokes for them, you returned to Dutch. “Where’s John and Tilly?”

“John’s back at his flat, I think, and Tilly’s sleeping at the hotel,” he sipped at his drink, and you smirked as he tried to hide that this whiskey was not as fancy as his palate was used to.

“Will Tilly be alright on her own?” you asked.

“Of course. I plan to return soon anyway; I just need to pick something up first.”

“What do you need to – oh,” you realised what – or rather who – he was referring to. “I haven’t agreed to come back with you. Besides, I’m still working.”

“When do you usually finish?”

“When everyone leaves,” you narrowed your gaze at him accusingly.

“Ah,” he hummed in amusement. “It appears to be quietening down.”

He was right. The crowd was certainly beginning to thin out, and you hoped that in true student fashion, they would all leave to go somewhere busier once they noticed. “I still haven’t agreed.”

Dutch’s response was the inching of his fingers closing to yours, brushing them over your own secretively. “I would really like you to.”

“I’m really, really tired, Dutch.”

“That’s fine, you can go straight to sleep,” at the raise of your brows, he continued with a smile that inched on his face, “I mean it.”

“I could be a while,” you excused yourself further.

He finished the last of his drink, pausing a beat before finishing it. “Just text me when you’re done. Otherwise, I’ll stay here until everyone else has left.”

“Okay, alright,” you rubbed your brow, supposing it couldn’t be too bad if you did just go there to sleep. By now, your trust in him had grown to the point where you believed he would’ve put all the measures in place to ensure the two of you weren’t caught. “I’ll text you.”

“Good,” he said, pleased, and stood. “I’ll be going now, then.”

“You mean you don’t want another one of those?” you pointed to his empty glass.

He gave you an almost weary look, and a laugh slipped from you.

“I’m only kidding.”

He shook his head, and for the briefest of moments your heart skipped as you saw his rare, genuine smile.

“See you later,” you concluded the conversation.

Dutch folded his jacket over the arm and offered you a secretive wink. “I look forward to it.”

It was another hour before the bar closed, and you swiftly grabbed your bag from the back room, pulling your phone out to message Dutch at the earliest opportunity.

You opted for waiting outside, a small way down the street in case any of your colleagues caught you swanning off with an older man who’d visited the bar. He didn’t leave you waiting for long.

“That was sooner than I expected,” he greeted you, and on the short walk to the hotel, you answered his questions about how your shift went.

“This is an expensive hotel,” you slowed on the approach, and Dutch rested his hand comfortably on your lower back. Somehow, you always seemed to forget just how rich he was.

“You think they won’t let you in?” he teased, and you nodded genuinely. “Relax, darling.”

That worked. Your body softened involuntarily, and walking in with him felt natural, easy. What you’d expected otherwise you weren’t sure, still hyper-aware of how you must look to a passer-by at this moment. Or perhaps they didn’t care. Dutch certainly didn’t.

The two of you took the lift, walking down the well-decorated hallway until Dutch stopped and swiped his card on a door. You let out a breath once inside, kicking off your shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed without a second thought.

“You and Javier seem to have an interesting relationship,” he commented, untying his shiny black shoes and placing them neatly by the door.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked defensively.

Dutch shrugged casually, clearly a façade. “You seem close. I wondered if there was anything there.”

You scowled at him, too tired for this line of questioning. “Obviously not -” you paused, remembering yourself despite your newfound anger. “Well, we might’ve had a drunken kiss on our first week, but it didn’t progress beyond that.”

“Hm. I thought as much.”

“What is wrong with you?” you said sharply, “why would you ask that?”

“I was only curious,” he held his hands up before unbuttoning his shirt. “I didn’t realise it was a crime to ask.”

“It’s not. You’ve no right to be jealous.”

“Who said I was?” he asked, leaning into a chuckle and it only aggravated you even more.

You huffed out some of your anger. “It’s pretty obvious. I’m not stupid. And you’re not as good at hiding things as you think.”

His face altered from unbothered to mildly entertained. “I don’t see why you’re getting so defensive. It was only a question.”

Your mouth opened to let a retort pass through, but none came. The fucker wasn’t wrong, he had only asked. In your exhausted state, you questioned whether you’d read too much into it, and frowned at the ground while rubbing the stress from your brow. Keeping so much contained was a problem in times like this, when emotions escaped out into the world. “I don’t - I just -” you began, feeling yourself getting worked up.

“Okay, alright, darling. Come here,” Dutch sat beside you, opening his arms and you tucked yourself into the warm embrace.

“Sorry,” you sighed quietly, “this is why I didn’t want to come. I get grouchy when I’m tired.”

“I can tell,” he teased, but the kiss placed on the crown of your head balanced it out. “You’ve been sick, John said?”

“Not sick. Just tired this week, that’s all.”

Dutch paused, tightening his arms around you. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to have any time to rest in the near future.”

“I’ll take a weekend off work at something,” you mumbled, almost on autopilot as it wasn’t the first time you’d been berated for being too much of a try-hard.

“Why do I get the impression you’re lying?” he asked gently, and your responding laugh was mirthless. “I like most things about you, except this.”

“Except what?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder to catch his eyes.

“This incessant need you have to work yourself to fatigue. It’s unhealthy.”

“It’s temporary,” you insisted.

“If you would only let me -”

“Don’t you dare offer me money again.” That was a place you’d never go to, a sense of pride far too strong to accept his help. You could do it. You just... need to complain occasionally. And maybe have someone that could help alleviate the stress using tried and true methods. “Wait, you said most. What else don’t you like about me?”

He paused, as though he hadn’t expected that question. “I suppose how little time I get to spend with you.”

“That’s a cop-out.”

Dutch laughed, releasing you from his embrace and standing to continue getting undressed. A feeling resembling awe settled in your body at how proudly he stood, in only his underwear, while finding a pair of joggers to wear for bed. He hooked his thumbs into the band of his pants but paused, slyly looking over his shoulder at you. You swiftly averted your gaze.

“You’re allowed to look, I don’t mind,” he said with amusement, and you only looked back once you’d heard his underwear come off and joggers come on. You were far too tired to go another round, but you feared your body would decide otherwise if you caught a glance of him fully nude. “Here,” he passed a plain t-shirt to you, “I suspect you don’t have anything to wear.” After you took it, his face fell slightly. “Not that I mind you sleeping with nothing on.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, for whatever reason wanting to get dressed where he couldn’t see. “Does the hotel have spare toothbrushes?”

“Sure, in the bathroom,” he pulled back the cover of the bed and got in, clasping his hands over his stomach. “Help yourself to whatever.”

You did, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and changing into Dutch’s t-shirt. It was clean, but it still held his underlying scent. He was in the same position when you re-entered the bedroom and lifted the covers for you to get in. “Thanks,” you said, laying down and marvelling at how soft the bed was, a yawn escaping thanks to your newfound comfort.

Dutch reached over and flicked the switches above the side table, turning off all the lights except the lamp next to him. Then, he brushed the back of his knuckle tenderly over your temple, and it took all you had to fight an immediate descent into sleep. You took the opportunity to shuffle closer to him, and he extended his arm so you could lay on his chest while he was propped up a little against the headboard. “Get some sleep, now,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble in the low light of the room.

As you melted into him some more, the bare skin of his chest warm and soothing, he put on his glasses from the bedside table and picked up his book. “Aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ll sleep better if I read a little first. Don’t mind me, though.”

“Okay.” You pecked his lips, and once you were re-settled on his chest sleep came easier than ever.

The gentle motion of fingertips slowly grazing the middle of your back was the first sensation to greet you upon awakening, and you blinked your eyes open to the hazy filter of morning sun through the window. You were nestled comfortably into Dutch, still using his chest as a pillow and glanced up, finding the man himself in somewhat of a daydream as he looked out the window. He noticed the small movement, though, and offered you a warm smile. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you half-yawned, stubbornly closing your eyes to nestle further into his chest. How he was more comfortable than the bed itself you weren’t sure.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“Like a log. You?”

“Just fine. You’re nice to wake up to.” He placed his palm flat on your back, holding you to him.

“You aren’t so bad yourself. What time are you seeing John today?”

“I think we’re going for a late breakfast; I suppose whenever he’s ready. We have a bit of time, if you want anything brought up to the room?”

“No, no, I’m okay. Thanks though. Actually,” you shifted up onto your elbow, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and internally deciding you preferred Dutch’s hair in the morning, a little messy from the night. “I wouldn’t mind using that shower.”

“Be my guest,” he said politely. It was nice to lay like this with him, you’d expected him to have his hands all over you as soon as you’d awoken, though perhaps he was tired. If anything, he was more reserved than usual, and you hoped he wasn’t beginning to have second thoughts. You knew better than to question him first thing in the morning and moved to a seated position before swinging your legs off the bed.

“Appreciate it.” You picked your clothes up from their crumpled heap on the floor and carried them into the bathroom with you before having the most glorious shower you’d had in some time.

Checking your phone once you were finished, you realised you’d been in the bathroom for a full thirty minutes. Whoops.

“Sorry,” you said as soon as you opened the door, Dutch seated on the bed, now dressed and rolling up his sleeves. “That shower was a little too nice.”

The smile Dutch offered you was warmer, more awake, and more like himself than he had been previously. “Good,” he offered out his hand which you promptly took and pulled you towards him to stand between his legs, and he wrapped his arms around your lower back. “I’d say you’ve earned it.”

You chuckled easily, glad to find out nothing was wrong, and he simply hadn’t woken up yet.

“What time are you working?” he asked, while you ran a hand through his hair and settled it on his shoulder.

“Early afternoon. I’m off tomorrow, but I’ve got work to do – what time are you leaving?”

“About midday. Don’t worry about it,” he placed a kiss on your sternum, “I’d prefer it if you rested instead.”

“I’ll try,” you nodded with a snort.

“I would like,” he stood up, holding your hands in his, “to see you more frequently, if possible.”

“I’d like that,” you looked up at him, and the deal was sealed with a kiss. “I’m not sure exactly when, but -”

“We’ll work something out. I have your number,” he said conspiratorially, an alluring half-smile making him even more irresistible than he already was. “But I fear Tilly will be up soon, I don’t want her catching you on the way out.”

“Good call,” you agreed, breaking out of the embrace to pick up your bag and double-check you hadn’t forgotten anything. “Have a good weekend.”

“We will,” he pulled you in for a kiss, one that was tender and slow and left you a little breathless once you’d parted your lips from his. “Thanks for coming to stay with me.”

“I’ve got to do my part for the community,” you shrugged, and his face dropped into playful annoyance.

“Oh, that’s how it is?”

You laughed, edging towards the door though he managed to pat your ass in reprimand before you were out of reach. “I might add this to my volunteering work on my CV, come to think of it.”

Dutch laughed heartily, pressing his tongue into his cheek and shaking his head. “You truly can be a wicked woman.”

With a proud, final smile, you stepped forward for a kiss goodbye then opened the door, checking the coast was clear before stepping out. At the risk of Tilly hearing you, you offered Dutch a simple nod before departing, which he returned.

It wasn’t a short walk back to your accommodation, but it wasn’t long, either. The weather was good, and you were thankful it’d been nice for Dutch and Tilly’s visit up. It wasn’t lost on you that there was a slight spring in your step, every meeting with Dutch making your heart feel that extra bit lighter, and life feel an extra bit more accommodating. After last time, you’d attributed it to the sex, to the rush and release that was a rarity in your everyday. But perhaps it was him, and while this newfound feeling was a nice one to experience, the low hum of guilt and the prospect of where this avenue of exploration would lead you left a slightly bitter taste in your mouth.

There was a possibility that Dutch’s philosophical suggestions were imprinting on you, but you actively decided not to dwell on the many possibilities and instead focus on that, for now, you had something that made your chest grow warm and your breath seep from your lungs. Perhaps this was what you were missing, a way to dispel your worries and fears even for a short while. And perhaps, on some level, this was something you deserved.

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

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