#It felt like I was in the control of the dream instead of just watching it

[deadgirlwalking91]

new update - 'Thank You for the Venom', chapter 8 🎸 🗡️

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight Summary

Lute makes a decision regarding Adam's proposition.

No weekend preview today... instead, I'm positing the whole chapter ;) hoping to shift my posting schedule to the weekend instead of a Tuesday, so let's see how this works. Thanks all for reading and engaging so far, hope you like this one. It was a fun time to write! Cheers @branded-rose for beta-ing and for patiently answering all my "but does this make senseeeeeee" questions. You have the patience of a saint to deal with me haha.

This was a predicament that Lute never, in her wildest dreams - or nightmares - expected to find herself in.

Sure, lately her interactions with Adam had been teetering more towards civility, as opposed to constantly wanting to rip his throat out with her bare hands. And their meeting the other week, despite her stomach-ache later and awful bloating later that night, had been somewhat tolerable.

Though, the feeling in her stomach after that meeting was nothing compared to the liquid-hot magma that was simmering at the moment, threatening to spill up into her chest and flow throughout her entire body.

Granted, she should have known better, should have been prepared that something like this would happen. As soon as she set Adam straight on her sexuality, she knew it was only a matter of time before he pulled his predictable bullshit and hit on her. After all, she’d be the final notch on his bedpost when it came to the women in his army. 

The straight ones, anyway.

What she didn’t expect though, was to enjoy it.

It wasn’t like Adam had never been close to her physically - in fact, it felt that in the few months since he found out about her revamped training regime, he’d found multiple ways to invade her personal space to antagonise her. And it worked. Executed to perfection by him, really. He knew how to get under her skin, and he excelled at it.

This, though? He was getting under her skin, just not in his usual manner.

Because this time, despite the rational part of her brain screaming at her to snap out of whatever stupor she’d found herself in, she was hot, bothered and turned the fuck on. And she needed to leave before she did something stupid about it. Now.

Especially considering if she stayed, she’d probably keep drinking, which given her current state of mind, was not smart. She’d already had enough.

Shakily, Lute slid off her stool, gripping the padded seat for support as she found her feet. Wine on an empty stomach was never a good idea. It went straight to her head, clouding her judgement. Fuelling potential bad decisions.

Sober Lute wouldn’t let her boss tell her he wanted to take her home for the night and have his way with her. Or let him put his hands all over her in public while she held them against her body, in full view of her sisters, like he owned her. Like she was his, and his alone.

And she would never, in a million years, have thought that she wanted to be taken to his place so he could have his way with her. She needed to move away from him, so that the tiny shred of willpower that she was desperately clinging to wouldn’t be whittled down to nothing. 

Smoothing her dress down, she cleared her throat before turning to Adam, who was now leaning against the bar counter, smirking down at her. Bastard.

“I need to go,” she declared, her voice faltering as she lifted her chin in a last-ditch attempt at bravado. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the office.”

He folded his arms, his arrogant smirk only growing as he looked her up and down, his eyes lingering hungrily at the hem of her dress.

“Hate to see you leave, love to watch you go, Lutey.”

Exhaling deeply, trying to control her heart thumping in her chest, Lute ignored him as she strode towards the door leading to the gardens outside. She needed to find Vaggie, to pretend she was feeling unwell so they could leave, immediately.

She had to get home as soon as possible before she changed her mind and ran back to Adam, and she could only do that with Vaggie’s support.

Not that she’d breathe a word of what had happened to her.

She threw the door open and briefly closed her eyes as she felt the relief of cold air, the gentle breeze welcomed on her burning face and chest as she scanned the courtyard for her friend. Despite the pleasant, mild night the outdoor space was mostly deserted, save for a small group of exorcist angels seated around a table chatting excitedly amongst one another. Lute wandered throughout the gardens, keeping an eye out in hope that she’d spot Vaggie amongst the exotic flowers and greenery. 

No luck.

Sighing, she approached a secluded corner in the far end of the courtyard, hidden by a large, leafy tree. The space was unoccupied, but her head was reeling from her encounter with Adam inside the bar and she needed a moment to process her thoughts, to try and come up with a game plan on how to move forward.

She leaned the side of her body against the wooden fence that lined the perimeter of the venue, facing away from the rest of the yard, her features relaxing for the first time since walking away from Adam. Her chest heaved, the pounding in her heart ringing in her ears as she raked a hand through her hair, trying to recreate the sensation of his fingers running along her scalp. 

Her hands dropped to hold herself around her waist, recalling his possessive hold on her like she belonged to him.

Remembering his bare hand splayed across the top of her bare thigh, inching further and further up her leg until he toyed with the hem of her dress, and how the only coherent thought that ran through her head was how she wanted him to keep going, to feel his way under the material until…

She swallowed nervously, trying not to let her imagination run too wild.

“Get it together, Lute,” she muttered to herself, sharply pinching the soft flesh of her inner arm in an attempt to shock herself out of her lustful stupor. It had no effect except for leaving a gold-tinged mark on her pale skin. “He’s only doing this because he’s realised you’re just another number he can add to his body count. Nothing more. You don’t matter to him. You don’t want to matter to him. He’s an incompetent idiot.”

Hugging her arms around herself, she puffed her cheeks and rubbed her thumbs into her biceps, attempting to distract herself from her thoughts. She let her chest rise and fall rhythmically, and, after some time, her pulse slowed.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, zoned out, focusing on her breathing, when she felt two large, firm hands take hold of her hips from behind. Yelping in surprise, her heart rate skyrocketed once again, and she didn’t need to turn around to know those hands belonged to the very man she had walked away from earlier that night.

“What the fuck, Sir?” she gasped, her grip on her arms tightening. “What do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on me like that?”

“You never gave me an answer,” she heard him say, his raspy voice quieter than usual. Softer.

“I was just leaving,” she lied, her body betraying her brain as she turned around, her hands shifting to instinctively rest on his chest. Swallowing nervously, she looked up into the yellow features of that hideous fucking mask that she hated so much.

She wasn’t quite so sure though, that she still hated what laid underneath anymore.

It was unlikely she’d ever find out.

“Leaving all by yourself, babe?”

“Yes,” Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands started roaming her body once more, one coming to rest on her lower back, the other cradling the back of her neck. “Specifically, without you.”

Shit, shit, shit. 

“Then why haven’t you gone home, hmm?”

Her eyes involuntarily fluttered shut as he ran his thumb down her jawline, letting it come to rest against her bottom lip where he gently tugged at it, parting her lips slightly.

It took every shred of the minimal willpower left in her body not to give in completely to him then and there. She just couldn’t bring herself to be yet another number. To be branded another one of ‘his girls’.

She could almost hear Vaggie’s stern voice in the back of her mind, reminding her that she was better than that, that she was smarter than that…

“Come home with me.”

“No.”

She opened her eyes, and gold met yellow as she stared into his soulless, digital face. 

Think, Lieutenant.

It was in that moment, somewhere amongst the fog that clouded her judgement, that Lute found the exact solution to her predicament. What if there was something in it for her? What if she got what she wanted? Something to finally satisfy her curiosity?

There was a ninety-nine percent chance he would decline, anyway. Probably tell her to fuck off. If that were the case, no harm done. She’d avoid becoming the very thing she hated, and while she wouldn’t get what she wanted, she could live with that. They could forget this night ever happened and go back to hating each other and trading blows as per usual.

But if he said yes… then she might be able to justify it.

“Unless,” she said slowly, glancing downwards at her feet, carefully trying to articulate the words in her mind before they left her mouth. “Unless you give me what I want.”

She felt his grip on her neck tighten, shooting shivers down her spine, rattling her. “Go on.”

“I’ll -” she took a breath. “I’ll go home with you. But only if you take the mask off. I get to see your face.” She looked up at him, squaring her shoulders in an attempt to feign confidence. 

Adam’s hands fell by his side as he stepped backwards, shaking his head.

“As tempting as your little proposal is, it’s not happening, Lute.”

“Okay,” she shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the pang of disappointment that nagged at her. “Then I guess I’m going home alone tonight.”

“Fine.” 

“Good.” Lute crossed her arms and glared towards the centre of the courtyard, trying to see if Vaggie had ventured outside so she could grab her and leave without looking back.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Adam’s mouth. “You seem kinda pissed. Something you wanna share with me, babe?”

“No.”

“Admit it, you thought what happened back inside was kinda hot.” With one stride, he’d managed to close the distance between them again, their bodies just touching - though she was slightly disappointed that he’d managed to keep his hands to himself this time.

Lute snorted. “Please, Sir. I’m not stupid. I’ve seen you pull the exact same moves with the other girls in the past. I was just…” she trailed off, unsure how to finish her sentence.

“Just what, hmm?”

His hands found her hips again, pressing her against him, and her wings fluttered involuntarily.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “What are you doing?”

“Testing a theory.”

“Which is?”

He flashed her a wide smile, dragging his fingertips slowly up and down her sides. He was deliberately antagonising her. Teasing her. “You’ve got it bad for me, babe. I don’t blame you - I’d have it bad for my boss, too.”

Lute’s eyes widened, horrified. “You have it bad for Sera?”

“Shit!” Adam cursed, fingers digging into Lute’s waist. “I fucked that up -”

Lute tilted her head back slightly and laughed, shoulders quivering as her hands came to rest on his forearms. 

Accidentally, of course. 

Adam snickered, shaking his head. “I haven’t screwed up a line like that in years. I’m usually smooth as fuck.”

“First time for everything, isn’t there, Sir?” she smiled up at him, amused, momentarily forgetting the unusual predicament she had found herself in. A rare, peaceful silence passed between the two of them; one where they did nothing except smile at each other.

It seemed there certainly was a first time for everything.

“Yeah, he mused, uncharacteristically quiet, cocking his head to the side slightly and frowning. “I guess there is, Lutey.”

Adam pulled one of his hands away from her waist, causing her hold on his arm to slip. Hesitating slightly, he brought it to the chin of his mark and lifted ever so slightly before stopping completely.

Lute’s breath caught in her throat as the realisation of what he was doing hit her like a ton of bricks, her heart now racing so fast she was sure he could feel it rocketing away in her chest.

“Wha -”

“Close your eyes.”

She gripped his arm tighter. “No way, you’re finally taking that hideous thing off, I’m not -”

“Close your fucking eyes, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”

Groaning in frustration, she reluctantly obeyed her commanding officer, squeezing her eyes shut. “Fine, they’re closed. Tell me when to open.” His other hand fell from her waist, her other arm coming to rest by her side as he moved away, putting distance between them once again.

She desperately wanted to peek, to let just one eyelid open slightly so she could see what he was doing. Did he have to fix himself somehow before revealing his true identity to her? She held her breath, trying to listen for a sign of what to expect when she was allowed to look.

Nothing.

Tapping her foot impatiently, she puffed her cheeks in frustration. “Can I open them now?”

“No, you impatient bitch! Do not fucking open them until I say. I mean it, Lute, or I’ll kick your ass.”

“Fine, whatever, just hurry up.”

Two warm hands suddenly cupped the sides of her face, tilting it upwards, a single thumb grazing her cheekbone.

“What are you doing?”

“Remember, keep them closed,” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. 

She couldn’t think; him being so close to her was making her head spin, her heart flutter, her throat tighten.

Then, without warning, he closed the space between them and kissed her.

It took Lute a moment to register that the mask had gone, and that the mouth against hers was warm and soft, kissing her with an eagerness that caused her to melt against him completely.

His lips moved expertly against hers, capturing her mouth over and over as his hands left her face and grabbed at her hips, shifting her so that her back was flush against the wooden fence.

Lute sighed into his mouth, her own hands instinctively flying upwards into his hair, running her fingers through the coarse strands, trying to imagine the colour, the style, how it framed his face.

Oh, how she longed to see his face.

“Hold on, babe.” Adam whispered against her lips, and before she could respond, he gripped the back of her thighs and hoisted her up, his hips pinning her roughly against the fence.

Wrapping her legs around his middle for stability, Lute moaned softly as he slowly ran his tongue across her bottom lip, silently asking her for permission to enter her mouth. And when their tongues finally collided, his hands started hungrily roaming her thighs and ass under her dress, grabbing at and rubbing her bare skin like he couldn’t get enough of her.

She tried to concentrate on his touch, how he was practically manhandling her like she was his little plaything, his large hands desperately kneading at her skin.

Warmth pooled between her thighs as she wondered what else he could do with those fingers.

Disentangling one hand from his hair, she let it drop so she could cradle his face in one hand. She took her time feeling the stubble along his jawline prickle the soft inside of her palm as he continued working her mouth with his own, keeping a firm, steady pace, not showing any sign of stopping or slowing down. 

The sensation of touching his face and hair, but not seeing him was exciting, enthralling, exhilarating, and she made the silent decision that if it just so happened that he ended up fucking her against the fence, then so be it. Dignity be damned, she was horny as fuck and they’d gone this far, what did it matter if they ended up going all the way?

Her dress was hiked up around her waist now, exposing her thin, cotton underwear to him. Groaning loudly at the sensation of his hardened length pressing against her, she tensed her legs and ground her hips into his. She started rhythmically rolling them back and forth, the friction causing her arousal to build, almost sending herself over the edge at one point before she backed right off. She didn’t want to spoil herself in case things escalated further, plus she had a feeling there was no way she’d be able to keep quiet if she did come. Given they were in a public place, that could be a problem.

When Adam eventually broke away, both of them gasping for air, she threw the back of her head against the fence in protest, groaning at the feel of the night’s air on her face.

“You kept them closed,” he breathed, a hint of relief evident in his voice as he eased his hips off hers, her feet giddily touching the ground once more. “Aren’t you a good lieutenant, obeying orders? That’s why you’re my best girl, Lute.”

Breathless, she nodded, blindly grabbing his face to draw his mouth down to hers as she let out a needy little whimper. Because above all, she was a damn good lieutenant and it was about fucking time he recognised it. Took him long enough, too.

“Just so you know,” he whispered against her, letting her tug at his bottom lip with her teeth, “I don’t do this shit. Ever.”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, not paying attention to what he was saying as one of his hands found its way to the thin strap of her dress, slipping it down to expose her shoulder.

“I mean it, babe. I don’t kiss on the mouth, and I’ve never taken this off for anyone.” Down came the other strap, her shoulders fully exposed to the cool night air now. She suddenly became aware of just how hard her nipples were. They painfully rubbed against the material of her dress, adding to the pleasure she was already feeling in other parts of her body as she pressed against him.

“Mmmhmm.”

Lute simply didn’t care what he was talking about at that moment; truthfully, she wasn’t registering a single word that he was saying. Right now, she was too busy focusing on the sensation of his massive hand under her dress, teasing as he ran a finger just underneath the seam at her inner thigh. She whined in frustration, bucking her hips in the direction of his hand, indicating that she wanted him to quit messing around with her and get to the fucking point.

“Lute, are you out here? It’s time to go.” 

A familiar voice rang clear in her ears, causing Lute to stop dead in their tracks as she was trying to undo the zipper of her dress one-handed.

Vaggie.

“Shit!” She broke the kiss, whacking Adam forcefully on the arm in hopes that he’d get his hand out of her underwear and pay attention to the fact that Vaggie was about to catch them making out against the fence.

“Vaggie!” she hissed, ducking her head into his chest. “Tell me if she’s coming this way, my eyes are still closed! I can’t see where she is!”

“Keep them fucking closed until I say otherwise,” he growled, moving away and Lute had to bite the urge to protest when she no longer felt him touching her.

If Vaggie found her here, secluded in the corner with Adam… she would know. She was incredibly astute, and even if Lute could come up with a brilliant excuse as to why she was alone and dishevelled with her boss’ hands up her dress, Vaggie would never, ever in a million years buy it.

The judgement alone would be enough to kill her.

“Lute?”

“Open.”

Lute’s eyes fluttered open, darting towards the door where she could faintly make out a familiar, grey bob heading back inside. Exhaling, she slid downwards against the fence until she hit the floor, stretching her legs out in front of her, grateful that Vaggie hadn’t bothered to look for her too hard.

In her relief, she’d even almost forgotten about Adam until he joined her on the ground, mask and hood firmly fixed back in their usual place, much to Lute’s disappointment..

“If she’d seen us…” she started, trailing off as she rested her head against the fence. “She’d gut me with her spear in a heartbeat.”

“Why?”

Lute turned, frowning slightly at Adam. “Because for years, she’s heard me complain about what a rude, obnoxious, disgusting, incompetent asshole you are. And she’d tell me I’m worth so much more than just being another notch in your belt.” She jutted her chin out and drew herself up taller. “And she’s right. I’m strong, and intelligent, and a damn good leader to those girls.”

“Never said you weren’t.”

“I don’t need you to,” she shot back. “I don’t need your validation.”

“Then what are you going on about, woman?”

Lute chewed her lip nervously, unsure if she should be blunt or dance around the issue. “I think you only hit on me tonight because you’ve found out I’m straight.”

Adam snorted. “That’s bullshit.”

“The timing is very coincidental, Sir.”

Adam cleared his throat. “Look, yeah, I didn’t think you were into guys. And maybe that’s my bad, because honestly, I didn’t give a shit about getting to know you. You’re a bitchy, mouthy little brat who doesn’t know when to quit. But,” he added, noticing Lute’s face had hardened in anger, “You do a fucking great job as my lieutenant. The girls know it, I know it. Fuck, even Sera knows it, or otherwise she wouldn’t have taken your idea seriously.”

Lute nodded, her expression softening. “Thanks.” She fiddled with the hem of her dress, unsure how else to respond.

“Why did you do it?” she found herself blurting out, avoiding his gaze as a blush crept up her cheeks. She wasn’t entirely sure she was prepared for his answer.

Adam cocked his head at her. “Do what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Do - do what we did before.” 

She couldn’t quite bring herself to ask ‘why did you almost fuck me against the fence?’

He shrugged. “I figured we should just get it out of our systems. Years of sexual tension and all that jazz.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what, Lute?”

“Get it out of your system?”

He stared at her, expressionless. “Yeah. Did you?”

“Yep. Gone. So out of my system.” she lied, waving a hand in the air, feigning nonchalance.

It was, in fact, not out of her system. Not after she’d felt his lips against hers, or how his coarse hair felt in her hands as the strands slipped between her fingers. How his identity was still a complete mystery, but at least now she knew he was real under that mask.

Still, their little encounter had left her yearning for more. So much more. She needed to know the colour of his eyes, whether his hair was dark or light, what his skin tone was. 

How his body would feel on top of hers as he buried himself inside her.

“But…” she continued, breaking her train of thought before her imagination began running wild. “Can we never speak of this again? Pretend it never happened?”

“Yeah, alright. Fine,” he answered dully, and she noticed his mood suddenly turning sour.

“I mean it, Sir.”

“I said fucking alright!” Adam snapped, turning away from her.

Lute crossed her arms and glared in the opposite direction, irked by his sudden change in demeanour. “Good.”

Neither of them spoke for several seconds, instead choosing to avoid looking at each other completely.

“Well,” Adam said abruptly, pulling himself up to a standing position, still not looking at Lute. “I’m out. See you tomorrow morning in the office.”

“Bye, then.”

She reluctantly watched him leave, and sighed, knowing that despite the night’s crazy turn of events, their parting exchange proved that tomorrow would be just another day in the office.

Groaning, she banged her head against the fence again. 

Dammit.

Adam took his seat at the bar again, nodding at the bartender as they caught his eye and pointed to a glass.

The night had… escalated. Far more so than he imagined it would, despite said escalation being his doing.

If only they hadn’t been interrupted by Vaggie, that cock-blocking little bitch, he was sure Lute would have agreed to go home with him.

Sighing, he pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time and noticed a text message notification at the top of his screen. He clicked onto it, frowning.

Layla: Hey, raincheck tonight? Something’s come up.

He’d forgotten all about his plans with Layla amongst the excitement of that night’s events. And yet…

He had no desire to see Layla that night. Or any other woman, for that matter.

Not unless she had platinum hair, a smart mouth and could put away two dozen ribs, preferably in a tiny, red dress.

Adam: All good, chat soon.

She replied almost instantly.

Layla. No worries. Besides, you seemed preoccupied tonight - not that I blame you. She looked hooooot ;)

Smirking, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and accepted the drink from the bartender. Layla was the ultimate hype-girl, and for that, he was thankful.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lute making her way hurriedly to the front door, pausing momentarily to glance at him before ducking her head and slipping away into the night.

Tonight may not have been the night to sleep with Lute, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to happen. 

He just hoped it would be sooner rather than later. 

***

Next time: Another training mishap puts Lute in a tricky situation for a week or so.

#hazbin hotel #adam x lute #guardrock #guitarspear #guitarspear fic #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin lute

[fieldsofacid]

When you feel like you kin Frisk from Undertale because of a dream you had

#undertale #frisk #fictionkin #kin memories #It just felt weird #It was like an Undertale and Pokemon crossover #Since I remember seeing a torchic in the mud #The underground looked a lot different #Snowdin Forest was still a forest #But without the snow #Snowdin town was the same tho #I had to fight Papyrus \ Sans \ and Flowey all at the same time #I didn't use a Pokemon just a knife #When I killed them Papyrus and Sans both left blood while Flowey just left dust with a puddle of healing magic too #It felt like I was in the control of the dream instead of just watching it

[starcurtain]

2.1 Penacony Spoilers!

I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.

We know:

1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)

2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.

I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).

But this doesn't make much sense to me because:

1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?

2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?

3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.

Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:

1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.

2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!

3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!

But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.

The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.

He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.

(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)

Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.

He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.

He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.

In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.

You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.

But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.

tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)

#honkai star rail #aventurine #dr. ratio #ratiorine #aventio #dr ratio x aventurine #I'M JUST SAYING #when you betray someone you don't check on them five minutes later!! #Dr. Ratio is a genius #he knows this #but he showed up anyway #Aventurine is over here sweating bullets like #'My dude WHY are you here GO AWAY we are acting like ENEMIES today' #and Ratio was just like 'Okay but do you NEED me?' #'Because I am here for you in case that needed to be clarified' #like 'Just want to make sure we're 100% clear' #'I AM HERE FOR YOU IDIOT' #Aventurine being shown a modicum of care: 'Disgusting.' #2.1 spoilers #penacony spoilers

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | angus tully x reader

sequel to 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, won't really make much sense without reading that!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | holiday break can only last so long, but angus wants this to be more than a fling-- and you, as much as you want to deny it, already know it's more than a fling. the question remains if either one of you will admit it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public sex, breeding kink, very inappropriate activities in a church, secret relationship, a wee bit of angst and fluff at the end!

part 3 coming soon!

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go back,” he groaned, dropping his head defeatedly into the crook of your neck.  “I never wanna go back to that horrible fucking school.”

“I guess you’ll just see me at Easter break then, huh?” you purred, grazing your teeth over his ear.

“You know, if sex with you keeps lining up with the Catholic calendar, it’s gonna give me a complex or something,” he noticed.

“Oh, I can do better than that,” you beamed.  “Next time you see me at Mass, I won’t be wearing any panties.  And you’ll be the only other one who knows.”

He perked up again, balancing himself over you with bent arms against the mattress.  “I swear, you’re a dream come true.  A really fucked up dream I had after seeing a porno mag or something.”

You laughed, but it was cut off with him pulling you into another kiss— sweet and slow, with both of you smiling against each other.  With your limbs tangled together under the sheets, you melted together into your bed; and no, none of it really seemed real yet.  Every time this happened, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were hooking up with Angus Tully.  Frankly, you were sort of trying not to think about it, at least not too much.  If you really tried, you could look at his face and see the little kid you babysat all those years ago, and it just made you feel sort of awful about it… yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Your smile fell into a gasp when he started to kiss your neck, his hands guiding your back as it arched slightly.  When he pressed his body against yours, you felt him getting hard against your leg, and you groaned softly.

“Fuck, Angus, again?” you whined.  “We already went twice—”

“I’m leaving in two days,” he explained, “I need you as many times as I can get away with it.”

You wanted to protest, say something about how sore you were or about how he needed to leave and go back home before someone noticed he was gone— but his slender fingers were already diving between your legs and making you just moan instead.

“See?  You’re wet already,” he noticed with a playful mockery to his tone.  “I’ve gotta take care of you, baby…”

Oh, you couldn’t stand it when he talked like that— when he made you feel so vulnerable to him, so paradoxically submissive.  When this started a couple weeks back, it was the other way around: you were the cool, older woman with all the power.  You told him what you wanted and he was more than happy to oblige, never questioning you— he was obedient, basically.  But once you’d had a few more encounters, he realized that you wanted him just as badly… that he could make you desperate, if he wanted.  Once he’d had the smallest taste of control, he was suddenly a changed man; now, he loved to tease and taunt you, see how far he could push you, even once he made you beg— and you expected you’d never get to live that down. 

He watched your face with a mischievous smile as he slowly slid two fingers into you, watching the way you winced and then relaxed.  “I’ll be careful,” he promised, “I know you’re all sensitive still… thought you might wake up the whole house with that last one.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed, remembering how he’d had to cover your mouth with his hand when he made you come.  These were issues you hadn’t considered much before, since you spent most of the year living in a dorm where you didn’t really care if anyone heard what you were up to.  Staying in your parents’ house again— and secretly fucking their friends’ son in your childhood bedroom— posed new challenges to say the least.

You gasped when his fingers curled inside you, rubbing that spot that made everything clench for a moment.  “Mm,” he observed encouragingly, “like that?”

“Yes,” you hissed under your breath.  Just when you began to let your eyes fall shut, they shot open when he added a third finger inside you.  “Fuck!” 

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” he scolded, “you can fit three fingers just fine— my cock’s bigger than all that anyways.”

He twisted the fingers inside you as your hips rocked, shivers running over your skin.  “Yeah, but still— fuck, it’s a lot…”

“You take it just fine,” he assured.  “You take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” you whimpered, and he laughed softly.

“You’re so good for me,” he continued anyways, making you bite your lip in hopes he wouldn’t notice his effect on you.  Whenever he said stuff like that, you just wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was— it made you want to shove him off of you and pin him down, remind him of his place.  But you never did, because letting him take control always felt so damn good…

His head dipped down a bit under the covers— and his lips latched onto one of your nipples, making you gasp and grab his hair with one of your hands.  “Oh god— yes,” you praised, shuddering a bit as he suckled hard on the bud.

He moaned around it, his free hand holding the other breast and keeping you down even when your back longed to arch deeper.  “You get so wet when I do this,” he noticed as he pulled away briefly, moving to suck the other for a moment as his fingers gently pumped into you.  When he pushed them in all the way to the knuckle, at the same time that his tongue swirled around your nipple just right, your patience finally gave in.

“Just fuck me,” you begged, tugging harder on his curls as you felt him smile against your skin.  “God, I just— fuck—”

He pulled away from your breast with a pop and a grin.  “Just ask nicely, baby, and I’m all yours.”

“I know you want to, just fuck me,” you growled, but he shook his head and you clenched your jaw.

“You can say it,” he encouraged, “just use the magic word.”

You rolled your eyes, hating the juvenile way of describing it, but his fingers were still moving inside you and you just needed it too bad— “Please,” you breathed.  “Please fuck me.”

“There you go,” he praised, slowly pulling his drenched fingers out of you and moving his hips to line up with yours instead.  He was so hard; you were almost impressed with his resolve, though at the moment you were mostly just annoyed with it.  “Look up at me,” he demanded, making you meet his gaze before he pushed himself inside you.

It was almost too intense, looking right into his eyes as he thrust into you carefully— you bit your lip, watching the heavy sigh of relief leave him as he filled you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes scanning all over your face and watching your expression change as he pressed his cock as deep as possible.  “You’re fucking perfect.”

You didn’t really believe that, but you at least would concede that this moment was perfect.

You held tighter onto him, legs wrapping around his hips, as he leaned in closer and moaned against your neck.  “How am I supposed to leave when you feel this fucking good?” he groaned lowly, and you felt yourself already beginning to pulse inside as you moved closer to the edge.  “I feel good too, right?”

Poor thing— if only he knew that it was his own fault you withheld praise, just because he sounded too precious when he asked you for reassurance like that.  He was really fucking talkative, way more than you expected; sometimes you thought if you didn’t say anything, he’d just go off on these wild tangents about how bad he needs you.  “You feel good,” you replied, trying to keep it a little vague so he’d ask for more.

“How good?” he asked with a grin, and you smiled, too, because he was wonderfully predictable sometimes.

“So good,” you cooed, “so fucking good that I’m gonna come way too fast.”

“Hey, that’s my thing,” he joked.  His stamina had definitely increased a lot in just a few encounters, but he still had a habit of coming quickly if you got him a bit too riled up.  Not that you really minded… it was still cute, after all, and he usually made it up to you one way or another.

He picked up his pace, letting out a low moan against your ear.  “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he ordered, panting with each quick thrust.

“Fuck, Angus, I want you come,” you replied, whispering against his ear.  “I want you to fill me—”

“Fuck…”

“And put all your come so deep in me—”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined again.  “I’m so fucking close.”

You whined, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling your chest get tighter as you moved closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he added; okay, so much for predictable…

“Wh-what?” you choked, feeling suddenly hot all over.  “Angus, I—”

“I know, you won’t,” he soothed, “it’s just, you know, pretend… just say you want it, please.”

You swallowed but nodded, holding on tighter to the back of his neck.  “I… I want you to get me pregnant.”

“God, yes,” he whined through his teeth, fucking you faster.

“I-I want you to fill me up so I can have a baby,” you continued in a whisper, and he moaned again as his grip on your hips tightened.  You could hardly believe what you were saying, nor that he had asked you to say it, and yet it made the most wonderfully bizarre feeling stir inside you— strangest of all, it was turning you on.  “F-fuck, Angus, I’m gonna come.”

“You’re gonna come with me?” he pressed, sighing when you nodded.  “Fuck, let’s do it— we’ll come together.  That’ll definitely get you pregnant.”

“Jesus, Angus,” you hissed, “what are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t get you hot, thinking about it?” he challenged.  “Thinking about us making a baby right now?  Imagining how good it would feel to let me breed you and make you a mommy?”

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you grunted, but you were already trying to hold it back.

“God, you want it so bad,” he noticed— how was he only this perceptive in these sorts of situations?  “You want me to come in you and knock you up, I can tell.  You’re gonna come just thinking about it.”

Even though it wasn’t really just thinking about it— it was him fucking you deep and fast and hard after a whole night of making love— you were forced to bite your lip and nod.

“C’mon, baby, I wanna feel it again,” he purred.  “Feels so fucking perfect when you come around me— you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your heart jumped and your eyes shut tight.  “God,” you groaned in frustration, but he just smiled and held you tighter.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, “nobody has to know, it’s just me— you’re mine, right?  Say it.  Say you’re mine.”

You whined when it hit you— and nothing had ever hit you quite like that.  Tensing up inside, pulsing uncontrollably, you felt the weight on your chest lift and you dug your nails into his shoulders as he fucked you through it.  “Fuck!  I-I’m yours!” you blurted out, unable to stop it when you were drowning in your ecstasy like that.

He swore against your ear, and gave you hardly one more thrust before falling over the edge himself, groaning weakly as his body sank down onto yours.

You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t force you to address any of what you’d just said; he looked so exhausted that you almost wanted to let him fall asleep here if it meant avoiding that conversation.  But it was just like him to only give you about ten seconds of silence before running his mouth again.

He started by just sitting up enough to kiss you on the cheek, then the lips, then the side of your forehead when you turned away.  “That was so hot,” he announced, still catching his breath, as he grinned down at you.

“That was… different,” you admitted as you hoped your embarrassment wouldn’t show on your face.  “You weren’t serious, right?  I mean, you know I’m on the pill—”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured, “it’s just, I don’t know, a fantasy.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him.  “Respectfully, I thought it was more of a nightmare— you know, it’s kinda worst-case-scenario here.”

“No, no, I know— that’s why it’s fun,” he explained.  “‘Cause it’s, like, bad.  Well, not bad, but… scary.  In a good way!  Like a rollercoaster or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, “just like a rollercoaster.  That’s why the maternity ward at the hospital looks so much like Six Flags.”

“You know what I mean,” he laughed.  “It’s just… if it actually happened it would be a huge fucking deal… but just imagining it, just for fun I mean, it makes my heart race.  See?”

He picked up one of your hands and put it on his neck, pressing your fingers into his pulse so you could feel its rapidness.  “Fair enough,” you shrugged, “you sure scared the crap out of me for a second.”

“You liked it,” he cooed, kissing the tip of your nose.  “You like being mine, too.”

Even if you could’ve hid the reaction on your face somehow, the way your weak muscles still found the energy to clench around his softening cock gave you away; he purred as he smiled, kissing you more tenderly on the lips this time.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to you.

“I probably look like a mess,” you laughed quietly, “I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like after a night like this.”

“Yeah, that’s how I like you, though— you look pretty all fucked up,” he explained.

You glanced over as he moved to bury his face in your neck again, only to see the slightest blue glow in the window: the early light just before dawn.  “Angus, it’s almost morning,” you noticed.  “You need to go.”

“Not yet,” he begged, hugging you tighter.  “I bet I can make you come again—”

“No,” you snapped, “if your parents find out you snuck out— and if anyone knows you came here—”

“Baby, c’mon,” he pouted, “I’ll be quick, nobody’s gonna know—”

“I swear to god, Angus—”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, “then just kiss me before I go.”

He held your cheek and turned your face to his, and you kissed him; you hated these kisses, the ones that felt like goodbye.  They were amazing, of course, but they always broke your heart.

“I’ll see you later?” he assumed.

“You’ll see me on Sunday,” you replied.

“Nooo, I can’t wait that long,” he whined.

“Yes you can,” you breathed.  “Now get up, please, before I have to literally kick you out.”

“Fine,” he relented, climbing off of you and searching the floor for his boxers and t-shirt.

“I still can’t believe you ran here without even putting a coat on,” you remembered, “it’s below freezing out.”

“Whatever, it’s not even a block to my house,” he rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Lindy across the street takes out the trash insanely early in the morning— what if he sees you running back to your house in the snow without any fucking clothes on?!” 

“He was young once, right?  He’ll understand,” Angus laughed.

“I’m hoping he doesn’t understand,” you groaned, “‘cause if he figures it out and tells my parents—”

“I know,” he breathed, slipping on his shoes and leaning over the bed to kiss you quickly.  “It’ll be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled back.

There was a brief pause before Angus dropped his arms down against his sides, hitting his legs; “Well, I… guess I’ll see you at Mass,” he announced.

“That’s gotta be the weirdest thing to say after hooking up with somebody,” you decided.

“I couldn’t think of anything else!” he defended.  “I’m about to jump out your window, it’s already a pretty weird transition.”

“Okay, first of all, please don’t jump,” you replied, “but fair enough.  I’ll see you at Mass.”

He hesitated, suddenly giving you one more kiss— one that lingered a little more— before opening your window and beginning to climb out.

~

Mass was certainly a lot more interesting when you kept feeling Angus’ eyes on you.  His family had been just barely on time for the service, so you hadn’t been able to talk to him before it started; you could tell he was dying to know if you’d gone through with it.

You tugged on the bottom of your dress as you adjusted yourself in the pew; it was definitely a weird feeling, and you couldn’t stop worrying that someone, somehow, would see up your skirt and get an eyeful.  The anxiety of it was oddly arousing, though— it made you understand a bit better what Angus had said about the whole scary in a good way thing.

When you occasionally spared a glance at him, you noticed that Angus still looked a little underslept; you’d both been up all night just a couple days ago, but the difference was that your parents didn’t really mind if you spent most of the next day in your room, so you’d had a chance to catch up— Angus’ parents were more determined to make use of his time off from school, and had him doing all kinds of chores and activities on Saturday that prevented him from getting more than a quick nap here and there.

And they’d tugged him out of bed bright and early for church today, so he was probably still feeling the effects of an all-nighter.  That said, he certainly didn’t seem lacking in energy at the moment— he kept wringing his hands, constantly glancing at you, so noticeably that his mom lightly smacked him on the shoulder when she noticed it.

But you were looking across the aisle at him, too.  If for no other reason than how cute he looked in his shirt and tie.

After the service, as everyone mingled around coffee and donuts, Angus made a beeline towards you— you’d kind of hoped he would be a little more subtle.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you just nodded at him with a smirk.  “It’s been too long.”

He glanced at all the people passing by, stepping closer to you to let someone walk past but never moving back; he waited until no one was too close before he spoke again in a lower voice.

“Are you really not wearing any…?” he asked, an extra sparkle in his eye and a mischievous smile on his face.  His smile dropped a bit when you nodded, though, and his eyes raked over you in the most intoxicating, lascivious way.  You were sure you’d never had someone look at you like that, like they’d give anything to devour you right then— and with no panties to hold it, you felt your arousal slicken where your thighs rubbed together.

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was looking over at him as he adjusted his corduroys awkwardly; you licked your lips, a little too flattered by the effect you had on him.

“That’s, um, that’s…” he mumbled, tripping over his words.  “That’s really… yeah.”

“Really what?” you challenged as you bit your lip briefly, moving closer to him and all but batting your eyes up at him.

“It’s really fucking sexy,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” you cooed.  “I think it’s sexy that you think it’s sexy.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about—” he began.

“I know,” you sighed, “me too.”

“I wasn’t even tired that day— I was wired, actually,” he laughed quietly.  “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart’s pace picked up a bit, and you glanced away briefly.  “I, um… I thought about you, too.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can go,” he whispered.  “It’s a big place— everyone’s here, if we just… found an empty room—”

“Jesus, Angus— in a church?!” you hissed.

“Come on,” he begged, “I don’t know when we’ll get a chance again— and I’m leaving tomorrow— and I want you so bad—”

“Shh,” you warned him, making sure no one was nearby again.  “We’ll figure something out— just not here.  It’s too risky.”

“But I need you now,” he insisted, voice lower and darker as he stepped just a bit closer to you.  “It won’t take us long— I mean, it definitely won’t take me long, after spending the last two days thinking about you.”

You crossed your arms, looking down at the floor, and you felt him lean in over you.  “Please, baby?” he whispered under his breath.

Releting, you took a glance at the crowd and made sure nobody was looking in your direction.  “You go find an empty room in the east wing.  I’ll talk to a few people— so it doesn’t look like we’re going together— and I’ll come find you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Great,” he beamed.  “Uh, which way is east again?”

You pointed him in the right direction and watched him bound away, sighing to yourself as you re-entered the crowd.  You got a lot of questions about your plan now that you finished your degree— and you found yourself repeating the same stock answer about how your graduate program didn’t start until the fall so you had the spring and summer to stay home.  Even though you knew you needed to kill some time to look less suspicious, you found yourself glancing constantly towards the east wing, getting more and more impatient for your chance to slip away as unnoticed as possible.

As the crowd was clearing out and nearly everyone’s attention was turned onto somebody’s new baby, you took the opportunity to disappear into the dark hallway.  As you peered around the doors, you saw Angus peeking out at you through one of the little windows; the door opened, and you slipped into an abandoned Sunday school classroom, barely having time to gingerly shut the door behind you before you felt his lips on your neck and his hand sliding up your thigh.

“That took forever,” he complained, and before you could remind him it had hardly been five minutes, his fingers were exploring between your legs.  “Fuck, what’re you so wet for?” he teased, and you groaned as you pulled him closer by his pants and hopped up to sit on the low bookshelf nearby.

“Just hurry up,” you hissed, “we need to get this over with before somebody finds us here.”

He opened his fly quickly, but struggled slightly to free himself from the confines of his trousers; you hummed a bit when he got it out, pressing it against you right away as you moved your hips up.

Thrusting into you all at once, you both sighed slowly; you took hold of his shoulders, he grabbed onto your hips, and instantly he began to fuck into you impatiently.

“God, you’re so tight,” he hissed against your ear.  “Touch yourself— I want you to come, too.”

You reached between your bodies to put a few fingers on your clit, rubbing fast in hopes that you could catch up with him.

“Do you always do what you’re told?” he mocked playfully.

“I think the fact that we’re doing this right after church proves that I don’t,” you replied.

“Guess you only do what I tell you to,” he shrugged, which really made you want to talk back, but you couldn’t because you were trying not to moan too loudly.

He moved faster inside you, and something about the angle of sitting up on the shelf was making him hit just the right spot— or maybe you were sensitive from the exhilarating fear of getting caught.

“What if I got you pregnant here?” he purred, making you arch your back slightly.  “Wouldn’t that be funny?”

“You’ve got a weird sense of humor, Tully,” you breathed, struggling not to let your voice come out all whiny and weak.

“Knocked up at St. Mary’s… it’s what God would want, right?”

“Do you never shut up?” you hissed.

“No,” he smirked, “you’re cute when you’re ticked off at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you felt a strange emotion stir in your chest: you bit your lip, willing yourself to tear away from his gaze, but you found it impossible somehow.

One of his hands moved from your hip up to your chest, palming at you through your dress.  You tensed up inside, making him wince a bit, and you couldn’t believe how close you were already.

“Oh god, baby, m’gonna come,” you whimpered, moving your hand even faster over your clit; he groaned in approval, leaning in to kiss all along your neck.

“Come for me,” he pleaded, “I’m so fucking close— please come, fuck—”

“R-right there,” you gasped, gripping his shoulder tighter— actually, that wasn’t the only place you were gripping him tighter.  He was struggling to maintain the pace of his thrusts, in fact, with how hard your walls were bearing down on him.  “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Not too loud,” he warned you, and you bit hard on your own lip to suppress your moan: it stayed in your throat instead, and you heard him gasp as he heard and felt you reaching your peak.  He had to take his hand off your chest and put it on the bookshelf under you to help keep you upright, and he looked down between your bodies to watch himself give you a few final thrusts.

He stopped suddenly, whimpering slightly as he buried himself in you as deep as he could go; you sighed and laid back on the bookshelf again, having to tilt your head to avoid a figurine of some prophet or saint that you had absolutely no interest in identifying at the moment.

Angus took a moment to catch his breath, before looking back over his shoulder and through the door’s window to make sure no one was in the hallway.  He pulled his cock out of you carefully and did his best to fit it back into his pants.  As you felt a warm oozing feeling between your legs, your face began to heat up.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through,” you realized.

“What?” he mumbled.

“I’m gonna have to go out there with nothing on under my dress, with your come leaking out of me.”

He bit his lip.

“It’s not sexy, Angus!  It’s very inconvenient!” you frowned.

“It’s both,” he insisted.  “It’s very much both.”

~

Though you did get another chance to see Angus before he left, it wasn’t that sort of rendezvous, unfortunately.  Although, just sitting and talking with him was wonderful, too— in an entirely different way.  See, that was the thing that scared you most, even more than how badly you’d come to crave his touch: how happy you felt just being with him.

He was funny, and weird, and seemed to think your stories from college were fascinating; he was well-read, especially for a high school student, and you two could chat about your favorite books— a hobby most of your classmates in college found too nerdy to sympathize with.  

It probably looked totally wholesome from the outside: two childhood friends catching up while they were back home for a while.  And you, you probably looked normal and cool on the outside— you were trying to, at least.  But inside, you were terrified.  You wanted it to be like what Angus said— scary, in a good way, like a rollercoaster— but you were starting to just feel sick.  You know, like an actual rollercoaster would…

“Everyone there is so… dumb,” Angus decided as he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

“That can’t be true, it’s a good school,” you tried to encourage him.

“I mean, maybe they could be smart, but they act like morons,” he clarified.  “They hate me, too, and I don’t even really know why.”

“Probably because they can sense that you think they’re all morons,” you suggested; and he looked over at you, as if he’d genuinely never thought of that before.

But instead of addressing that, he sat up again and changed the subject.  “My parents probably want me to go back and, like, put my trunk in the car and stuff…”

“Right,” you nodded, “you should go.”

“Yeah— b-but, listen, um, before I do…” he trailed off, leaning a little closer to you on the couch.  “I wanted to, you know, talk.  About something.”

“We’ve been talking for half an hour,” you noticed.

“Right, uh— I meant something specific,” he explained, his cheeks seeming to get a little bit more pink.  “I… I won’t be back until spring break, you know…”

“Uh huh,” you nodded, raising an eyebrow as you wondered what he was getting at.

“And, you know, we’ve been having such a great time,” he went on, and your heart twisted.  You’d heard this spiel before: the things are so good now, why do we need to put a label on it? why can’t we just have fun talk.  The you’re great, but not good enough for more than this talk.  You decided to jump in and spare him before he said anything too… honest.

“I get it,” you promised, and he looked at you nervously.  “We’re gonna be too far apart for too long— and you shouldn’t, you know, feel like you’re tied down to anything.  It’s okay— I didn’t think I was, like, your girlfriend or anything.”

“R-right,” he coughed, looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck.  “Yeah, that’s— that’s what I was gonna say.  I knew you’d understand.”

You smiled, wishing you weren’t always so goddamn understanding.  “But it was fun— a good way to kill time over the break, for sure.”

“Yeah,” he agreed alongside a thin laugh.  “I… I think I’ll always owe you, for being my first time and all.”

“Well, you’ve certainly spent your first two weeks of not being a virgin pretty well,” you snorted.  “I had a good time.  We’ll call it even.”

“And… when I come back?” he pressed.  “Maybe we can, I dunno… maybe we can do it again.”

You grinned and tilted your head.  “Yeah, I like that idea.”

“But can I still call you?” he asked nervously.

“Of course!” you beamed.  “You’ll have to tell me if you get any good books assigned this semester.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” he scoffed, but his smile lifted just a bit.

“I can come see you off, if you want,” you offered, “but it might make your mom suspect something…”

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, “I wish you weren’t, but you are— but I’ll call first thing when I get there!”

You smiled, and he gave you a hug before he left; and he promised to call again, though you’d believed him the first time.  And the next time you stayed up all night with Angus, it was on the phone— he snuck out of bed with a bag of quarters, and told you the phone was free so you wouldn’t feel bad, and talked to you about everything he could possibly think of.

Except, you didn’t quite make it all night: you fell asleep at some point, while he was talking about his English paper… not that he could blame you.

And for some reason, one that even he himself couldn’t quite explain, he kept feeding the phone quarters and listening to you sleep; he didn’t hang up until it was nearly morning and he had to sneak back into his room.

[series masterlist here]

#angus tully x reader #angus tully smut

[urfavleo777]

WARNINGS: smoking, closeness, kisses, bad vocabulary, fluff.

you find comfort in colby after breaking up with your boyfriend.

"I don't remember the last time I saw you like this, kiddo."

You flinched, not from the wind, but from the hoarse voice of your friend Colby, who was standing behind you. Standing on the balcony in just a T-shirt and jeans would give you a cold, but at that moment, that was your last concern. Before you turned around, you sniffled, trying to disguise the fact that you had just shed a sea of ​​tears.

He gently placed his free hand around the lighter, trying to shield it from the wind. A faint smile covered your lips as you watched him concentrate on it.

"When will you finally quit smoking, Colby?" you whispered, choking on your tears.

"I don't know, you tell me" he sighed out the smoke from his mouth as well and looked at you, arching his eyebrow.

"I still think you should quit." You said softly, turning your head towards Colby who, standing next to you, was leaning back against the railing. He looked down at the night skyline of the city. Such sights were not uncommon for him since he became so popular. He probably spent the night in places you never even dreamed of. You had been friends for seven years, but you never let him take you with them. Maybe it was because your ex-boyfriend, who just two hours ago was the love of your life, was seething with jealousy whenever you spent time in Colby's presence.

"What will you give me if I do?"

He took another long drag from his cigarette before exhaling into the crisp air. You watched the smoke disintegrate into the air as he placed his cigarette back between his finger. Not hearing your answer, his lips curled up into a smirk before he spoke.

"You want to try, don't you?" he asked making you nod slowly.

You've always been against any kind of stimulants, but that day you had to relieve yourself somehow. Cigarettes turned out to be the perfect solution.

He turned his body towards you before wrapping his arm around your waist. Your breath hitched and his cold bare chest rested against yours. His cigarette was held in his left hand and your body in his right. He looked down at you before explaining what to do.

"Just inhale, hold it for a second then let it go" he said making you nod again.

Your fingers lifted up and reached for the cigarette before you realized that he was bringing it to his mouth instead of yours. Okay, maybe he was showing you what to do. He took a smaller drag from the cigarette than his past before lowering the cigarette down. Before you could even reach to grab it, his lips pressed into yours.

You gasped at his kiss, making him breath all the smoke into your mouth and have it go down to you lungs. He pulled back a little to watch as you kept your mouth closed tightly. The smoke had filled your entire chest and was beginning to make you suffocate.

"Y/n, exhale" he said.

You opened your mouth and let all the smoke escape from your lungs. He smirked and closed his eyes as all the smoke had been hitting his face. You began coughing as the smoke was caught up in your lungs. His hand patted your back before you finally gained control of your breathing.

"Did you like it?" he asked with a smile playing on his lips.

"Never doing this again." You said making him laugh out into the air.

His hands tighten around your back and he brought your forehead to his lips to give you a small peck. You gasped slightly making him pull back and realize what he was doing. His hand un-wrapped itself around your waist as his cheeks were tinted red.

"Glad you two broke up. I've always had an urge to punch him in his fucking face."

It seemed he decided not to mince his words.

You rubbed your eyes with your hands, realizing that your makeup was probably smudged. You shuddered once again as you felt the wind on your skin. Colby noticed this, pulling you closer to him. He lowered his voice, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"I'm sorry, baby. He clearly wasn't good for you."

You thought you were about to fall asleep standing up. His touch soothed you, making all your worries go away. You wanted to stay like this forever, in his arms, on the balcony, with the accompaniment of passing cars and the full moon in the sky.

You've been blind all this time. You were looking for happiness and entertainment in pathetic men, not knowing that you didn't have to look at all, because the perfect one was literally at your fingertips.

And his name was Colby Brock.

#colby brock #colby brock fluff #colby brock smut #hell week #sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock fanfic #sam and colby smut #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach x colby brock #colby brock masterlist #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach x you #sam and colby x reader

[pjsfvs]

breeding kink hc - Mark Lee

paring : husband!mark x afab!reader

warnings/tags : very nsfw, mentions of pregnancy, oral sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluff, breeding kink, Mark going AT it

summary : mark will do whatever it takes to get you pregnant.

a/n : this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday on 1/27 but i posted the Sunoo hc instead. Also, if you have any requests, you can leave them in my inbox! and don't leave hate comments for me to see. if you don't like it just block me and leave.

Having a child together was always something Mark and you knew would happen for you. Brushed lightly on the subject, you clearly remember the way Mark’s eyes would light up when you’d mentioned earlier in your relationship, that you wanted children.

Now, married in bliss with your second anniversary approaching, Mark had started to get a little impatient. You both knew you wanted to get pregnant eventually but hadn’t quite decided concretely exactly when just yet.

For Mark, a family always seemed a distant dream. However, when you’d walked into his life, he knew he wanted it with you.

In the beginning of your relationship, you used condoms during sex. It worked at the time, but eventually, after a conversation together, you decided you’d get yourself on birth control. Mark and you were pretty serious, had a solid foundation for your relationship and knew you wanted to be together for the rest of your lives,

And part of you wanted to take that step in your relationship; no matter how minor it may be. Sex was already something so intimate between you two, but to remove the barrier of a condom and really feel each other closer? It felt natural. Felt like something you trusted each other with.

Little did you know, that decision would spark a little something in your man…

For Mark, the first time you’d had sex using birth control, he swore he fell a little further for you [if it was even possible]. To know you trusted him to cum inside, that you weren’t scared, or fearful of anything going wrong meant so much to him.

Often during sex, he’d find himself thinking how much power his seed really had. On birth control, his cum buried deep inside your cunt meant nothing more than the mutual trust you two shared, a symbol of how deep your relationship had gotten.

But if you were off birth control? If the sex was unprotected?

Mark’s cum held great power. He could put a baby in you. Your baby, that you made with the embodiment of love your bodies yield to each other. The thought alone made Mark shiver each time, shuddering with a tingle of anticipation when he’d spill his hot loads inside you each night.

“Mark?” You’d asked one night, after a steamy quickie before bed. You rested your head on his bare chest as he heaves down from his high, a heavy palm rested to the bare skin of your exposed back.

“Yeah, baby?” He returns, kissing the top of your tousled hair softly. His palms are gently soothing over your bare hips, the same hips that would someday, hopefully carry the live of your child.

And that same night, the conversation happened. You’re both ready for a baby, you both want a baby with each other.

Mark is ecstatic, can’t wait to watch your pregnant belly grow as he showers his love on you, taking care of you each step of the way. Mark is already the perfect husband, and you best bet that it would heighten tenfold when you’re pregnant.

You have sex every single day now, sometimes multiple times a day. Sex with Mark was always fantastic, always had you practically on the verge of tears to how well he’d fuck you when he needed to, how well he’d make love to you when he needed to. If anyone knows how to strike the perfect balance, it’s Mark Lee.

“You gonna give me a baby, kitten?” Mark rasps, hastily pounding into your needy cunt from above. His biceps rest on either side of you and they look massive this way, a dark, almost primal darkness in his eyes on some nights like this. You’ve been trying for about a month now, and Mark is growing impatient. Part of him fears deep inside that as always, something will go wrong; deprive him from the life he wants with you. You make sure to assure him, however. Assure him that it’ll happen for you.

“Ye-yes baby, put a baby in me Mark…” You whimper, begging underneath him, soft legs tightly wrapped around his waist to give him optimal access to your deepest parts. Mark’s cock twitches inside you, and you know he’s close. Every single time, you shake and shudder to the feel of being pounded by him, the way his creamy, succulent cum fills up inside you to the brim.

It baffles you the amount of cum the man carries, how much he spills after each fuck. You can definitely feel him fill you up and it turns you on so fucking bad as you desperately pull him close, peppering needy kisses all over his face as he makes you cum as well.

“They say the more orgasms you have, the better the chances of getting pregnant.” Mark whispers, slowly delving between your drenched thighs. He licks a long stride up your aching pussy before circling sloppy, wet circles to your clit. You’re not sure if Mark’s theory is 100% accurate. Nonetheless, you know Mark thrives off making you feel good, he wants you to enjoy the process more than him. After all, you are the one who’s going to be carrying your baby for months on end, bearing all the pain and discomforts that come your way.

It does pull at your heartstrings how much Mark cares, how desperate he is fulfilling the deed of getting you pregnant.

If on your bed, before sex, Mark puts a pillow under your hips to angle them up slightly while he pumps in and out. “Can’t have any drip out,” He smirks, pressing a wet kiss to your lips as his throbbing cock stays positioned inside you, cocooned by your warm, pulsing walls after release.

Cockwarming has become almost a daily occurrence. After he’s came inside you, Mark keeps his girthy member inside your cunt for a couple of minutes as you both come down from your highs. He’ll rest his head in the haven of your breasts, arms wrapping around you as you pull him close, kissing his head to happy dreams of this wonderful, loving man fathering your children someday.

Mark insists that you have sex a couple times a day, and you fear he’ll eventually get sick of having you if you don’t slow down a little

“I’ll never get sick of you,” He whispers into your neck, softly kissing the skin as his arms hold you so dearly tight. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I do.” You whisper, cupping his cheek. Mark is the sweetest man you know, and you best believe he’s only gotten sweeter since you’ve started trying.

Sometimes, when lounging next to each other, or when he’d come up behind you in a tender hug as you cook breakfast, Mark rests his hands on your belly; dreaming of how heartfelt it would be the day your baby would be in there,

“You’re gonna look so beautiful sweetheart, carrying our baby.” His deep baritone would soothe in your ears as he slams into you, your breasts bouncing to his pace as his hips snap into you hard, senselessly. His balls slam your core so hard each time, and the sounds of skin slapping skin fill the house very often nowadays. “Gonna show you off to the entire world,” He moans, cupping your breasts & kneading them with a firm force, yet cautious not to hurt you, as his mind drifts to the thought of how full they’d look, swollen holding milk

Mark and you have possibly tried every sex position there is at this point. Doggy style? Mark fucks into like a rabbit from behind, cock grinding your cervix to the deepest parts before slipping out entirely, only to plummet back in

Your legs on his shoulders as he fucks into you relentlessly? It’s one of his “trying to conceive” favourites, allows his sperm to take advantage of gravity

Face to face lying beside each other? Mark practically melts each time you do this one. The entry of his cock is so deep this way as you hold each other’s gazes, your leg draped over his waist as his arms pull you closer, rosy skin flushed together with a thin layer of sweat.

From behind as you lay on your stomach? Mark’s eyes roll to the back of his head in this one. He enters you from behind, pounding in as he grinds your g-spot repeatedly, almost always giving you two orgasms before he cums deep, deep inside.

Did I mention how loud Mark is when he cums

He moans, throaty groans fleeing his lips as he practically growls in your ear. The way you clench around him is too much, your pussy is too tight; too warm and he’s far too in love with your body (and all of you, ofc). Far too drunk on thoughts of pounding you pregnant for him.

Sometimes Mark can get so dirty while fucking you.

It surprises you sometimes that your sweet, loving, wholesome husband can say such sinful things

“Gonna make a baby come out of that tight little pussy.” He drips, biting small love marks into your skin as he thrusts, marking your body as his breeding ground.

I mean he is a literal assassin so you do get that he can be a bit brutal sometimes

He tracks your periods and the days you’re most fertile (not that it matters too much since he fucks you into oblivion each day haha) but on days where you’ve ovulating, he makes sure to go deeper, harder, and get in multiple rounds for optimal chances of conceiving.

Mark cumming inside is so special now. You can’t help but shiver each time you feel him explode deep within you, knowing that that load might be the one to do the trick.

You’re an advocating member of the “Make Mark a daddy 2024” campaign.

And when your period is late…you tell Mark with beaming eyes and swear you’d seen a glistening glow in that chocolate gaze, unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

You buy multiple tests together, Mark's hand holding yours the entire time. The thought that your baby might be growing inside you, right now, this second as you stand at the checkout counter has his smiling like a goofy idiot.

Your goofy idiot, of course :)

You take the tests together in the master bathroom of your bedroom. Mark is on edge and you have to hold his hand to reassure him, explaining to him that if its only a false alarm, you’ll keep trying because you want this with him. You need this with him.

You want a family and it’s never going to change.

But when all the tests come back positive, Mark is on the brink of tears.

You both are, holding each other tighter than ever as you both cry into each other’s necks, kneeling in a bundle of cuddles on the bathroom floor. Mark kisses each inch of your face, peppers delicate kisses to your tousled hair, offering squeezes to your hand when you let out a soft sniffle at the sheer happiness.

This is a moment that will forever be engrained in your minds.

It was finally happening; you made a baby.

You’ve never seen Mark this happy before, feeling as if everything in his life has finally fallen into place. This is what all the pain, all the hurt, all the sin that lingers in the shadows of his past had been leading up to. A family with you, free of evil, free of any grim that lingers.

A life where the only Mark Lee that the world knows, is the Mark who loves and is loved by his wife, and the Mark who is a father.

The most loving, caring, amazing father he could ever be.

#౨ৎㅤ violet writes #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee #mark x reader #mark smut #mark fluff #husband!mark #౨ৎㅤ mark

[bimb0fy]

pure as ice -> luke castellan

ᵖᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ; Luke x aphrodite!reader

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ; smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it whores), corruption kink, fingering.

ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ; you were always an innocent little thing, luke loved that, he truly did, yet the thought of corrupting you always won against the adoration.

ʷᵒʳᵈᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ; 790 words

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ!! | ⁿᵃᵛⁱᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ!!

-> Luke smirked as he watched you skip along the path, Aphrodite's favorite you were called. She certainly blessed your looks, she certainly favoured you.

Every man, every single one wanted to be with you. Every woman wanted to be you.

You were the purest thing Luke had ever seen.

He felt dirty for picturing your small dainty hands around his cock as he jacked off. Even dirtier when he wished he was in you instead.

He felt attracted to the innocence. He knew it was evil, to ruin something so pretty, so valuable. Yet he didn't care.

He walked to the edges of camp, where you two met during the day. You laid on your stomach, your mini skirt slightly rode up your thigh and it made Luke want you more and more.

You had a pink rose in your hands, smiling at it. Luke set himself down beside you as you smiled, looking up at him with your pretty little eyes looked at him and he couldn't control himself anymore.

Now, you found yourself on the ground, his hands separating your thighs as he looked down at your soaked laced panties, a smirk on his face as your back leaned onto a tree.

"Luke." You muttered as he nodded, looking up at you.

"Sorry baby, I've just been, I've been dreaming for this moment since forever." He laughed as he dove down, licking a strip through your clothed pussy as you let out a moan. "You've never been touched down here right?"

"No." You whispered, biting your lip. You had never even considered masterbating or anything before. That was the first time you felt something, the first time someone touched you, and oh my, you were hooked.

Luke groaned as he changed positions, placing you on top of him, your cunt directly onto his bulge. He thrusted into you once as you let out a groan. "Sorry flowers, I just, fuuck, been waiting for this since the moment I saw you in that pretty dress."

You nodded as you felt him untie the ribbon of your dress, the dress expanding and falling as he stared at your body. You looked better then he had ever imagined.

His mouth latched into your right nipple, his hand playing with your left as you let out a groan. His other hand slid down past your underwear as he lightly grazed your lips.

You let out a moan as you felt him start to rub, unintentionally grinding against him as he groaned.

He pulled out, sliding your panties to the side as he pumped a finger in you. You were a mess, moaning and groaning as you bounced along with him, your tits jumping as he stared at your body.

It was all he ever wanted with you, and he was about to take his sweet time too.

"Luke, I feel something." You moaned as he quickened his pace. The way you clenched around one of his fingers was ecstatic to him.

He pulled out as you let out a cry, unsure of what to feel, the feeling of pressure replaced with hurt.

He spun you around, your stomach on the grass as he pushed your head against the dirt. "It's gonna hurt baby, but trust me, it'll be worth it okay?"

You let out a strained moan as you felt two of his fingers in you. You clutched onto the grass as you heard his groans. You could see his hand fishing for his cock, jacking off as he fingers you.

"Luke, the feelings back." You moaned as he pulled out, licking a strip before spiting in your cunt. You groans as the cold liquid landed onto you.

He raised your legs up, your face held down by his hand as he lined himself with you, he entered you as you let out a loud moan.

He let out a moan as you clenched around him. You were so tight, clipping onto him like a vice. He couldn't control himself as he thrusted into you roughly, causing you to let out moans and whimpers.

"God luke your so big." You muttered as he thrusted faster. He looked down at your pussy as you arched your back, clenching onto him as he watched you give into him.

He watched as the white liquid infect his cock and your thighs. The sight itself sent him over to the edge as he pulled out, emptying the knot onto your back as closed your eyes, taking deep breathes.

"That was fun." You smiled as he set himself beside you. He kissed your forehead, standing up and buttoning his pants as he helped you up.

"C'mon, let's go shower." He whispered in your ear as you giggled.

#fanfic #x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo fandom #percy jackson #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo #pjo x reader

[lazyjellyfish300]

Gentleman part 2 🌼💌

GeneticistCEO!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Intern College Student!Reader

Synopsis: after receiving a generous gift from Dr. O'Hara, you intend to thank him the next day. Word count: 5.8k

A/N: a little Fifty Shades of Grey inspired with the whole document situation. Here's what Dr. O'Hara looks like btw. 🫶🏽

TW: MINORS DNI, suggestive (no smut but talk of sex, alludes to sex), heavy kissing, bullying, little angst, some controlling behavior, Sugar daddy relationship, ooc Miguel , boss/employee relationship, I don't condone IRL

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

@scaleniusrm @laysmt @to-the-endoftheline @oharasfilipinawife

------

You feel like you're floating as you read the note over and over again etching every curve and spike of Dr. O'Hara's messy signature on the card into your memory. You lean in, smelling the gorgeous flowers, closing your eyes, a warm feeling making itself known in your chest. This truly felt like a dream come true. The way this went from one of your worst days to the best in a matter of hours. This mysterious, handsome scientist being the cause. Everything about your life changed in a matter of minutes. You were going to go to bed hungry, and instead woke up to a 5 star meal and your favorite flowers.

"What is that?" Isla asks sharply, causing you to spin around, tucking the card under your arm. 

"Nothing.....just-ah...some flowers....and food."

"What the...." She takes a step closer, scanning you suspiciously. She smirks, "I didn't know you had a boyfriend." 

You feel your face heat up and try to shuffle away quickly in annoyance. She takes note of the way you're turned away, trying to conceal the card and who it's from. 

"Well come on, who is it?" She presses. Heather and Vivian walk up and stand next to her in mutual curiousity. 

"He's....um.....Greg?" 

"Greg?" 

"You don't know him." With that, you bolt for your room, leaving your roommates with raised eyebrows and suspicions. 

You lock your bedroom door behind you and place the takeout bag on your bed, first arranging your new flowers on the windowsill in a vase before you dig in. When you open the bag, there's three different entrees of your favorite things to order from the restaurant, two of your favorite appetizers, two desserts, and two large to-go cups filled with two of your favorite beverages and those delightful pebble ice cubes that gave that satisfying crunch and sounded so heavenly when it clattered against the plastic. 

As you took your first few bites of the piping hot food, you leaned back in your bed with a sigh of contentment. You could probably die and go to heaven with how delicious everything was, your belly and your bank account nice and full.

You stood up and changed into your favorite pajamas and lounge wear, putting a show to watch on your phone while you continued to eat to your heart's content with your gorgeous bouquet as the perfect backdrop against the setting sun outside your dorm window. 

-------

The next morning, you woke up, deciding that you'll get to Alchemax bright and early to give Dr. O'Hara a proper thank you. You figured this would be a one time thing and nothing you could do would be enough to pay him back, not to mention the moral implications of a manager doing this for one of his interns. He really put it all out there for you and you didn't want it to go unacknowledged. 

You wrote out a heartfelt letter on some notebook paper and grabbed a poppyseed muffin from the common area and hoped that he'd appreciate the thought behind it. You did your hair, dressing in one of your nicer outfits, makeup just the way you liked it and walked out the door with a spring in your step. 

-----

Alchemax 

Miguel took a generous sip from his coffee mug. It had a picture of him and Gabi as stick figures that she drew in preschool as the custom design he had printed on the mug. He looked at it fondly with a little smile as he remembered his reason for it all. 

His eyes widened when he saw you standing at his desk, a muffin in a brown paper bag and a note in your hands. 

"Buenos Dias." (Good morning) He said pleasantly. 

You smiled at him, your heart pattering in your chest a little bit now. "Good Morning..." 

The way you finished your greeting made it sound like you had something else to say.  Miguel waited, his face a little unreadable as he left the floor open for you to continue your thought. 

You clear your throat. "I just wanted to thank you, for everything you did for me yesterday. It's-uh. It's just unbelievable and...and I don't know how I could possibly p-pay you back..." 

You reach out, offering him the note and the muffin. "I wanted you to have these..." 

Miguel's eyebrow raises. 

"I-I know it's not a lot....heh. It's absolutely nothing compared to what you've done for me...but it was the least I could do." 

Miguel hums and sets down his mug, taking the note and the muffin. "You're welcome...and thank you, for this..." He peers inside the paper bag. "Poppyseed?" 

You nod, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers out of nervous habit. 

"One of my favorites." He says with a little smile. However the smile quickly disappears as he walks past you to his desk. "I'm going to have you work with Dr. Drew and the junior intern group from now on." 

"Dr. Drew?" You give him a confused look. "But, I thought..." 

"I have something different in mind for you." He said shortly, sitting down and opening his laptop, peering over his glasses. "I believe Jess's direction will be better suited for your needs. Her group has an opening anyway." 

You feel your stomach flop. This was unexpected and you didn't have anything against Dr. Drew, but Dr. O'Hara's group was extremely hard to get onto and this was basically a demotion. Senior Intern just looked that much more attractive on your resume. You were startled at having this change so quickly, uncertain what this would mean for your career and the impression it would leave on your transcript. 

"Doctor...with all due respect." You said slowly. "I wanted to be on your team. I mean, I wrote that thesis, I collaborated on that project last year with Dr. Parker and I really really worked my tail off..." You feel a lump in your throat. "Please don't take me off your team." 

Dr. O'Hara looks up at you a little sternly from his desk, "I understand your concern, but trust me, this will be a better move for both of us. Jess is a brilliant scientist. One of my best. She will lead you better than I." 

"Is...does this have anything to do with what you did for me..?" 

Miguel cuts you off, a little harshly this time, saying your name in a firm tone. "Please. Do not argue with me. She's already expecting you and doesn't like to be kept waiting." 

You take a step back, a little alarmed and immediately regretful at pushing back. You turn around quickly, walking swiftly towards Jess's office without another word. 

-----

Dr. Jess Drew has a lovely smile for you when she sees you walk in. "Hello! Remind me of your name?" 

You give it to her and humbly enter the lab, a tall, young looking blonde with one side of her head shaved with the tips dyed pink, and another tall young man with curly dark hair are handling some lab chemicals with safety goggles on their faces, stepping back as the concotion begins to fizz. 

"Gwen and Miles here are studying chemical reactions. You'll help me supervise them." 

You nod, returning the kind smiles that they both offer you, before they go back to their discussion.  

"So, Miguel tells me you are studying Bio?" Jess asks, trying to start up conversation. 

"That's correct." 

"Wow, and you're going to apply to medical school?" 

You nod again. Jess smiles, impressed. "Well, good for you, girl. An Alchemax internship will definitely make you stand out." 

You give her a weak smile. "I hope so...to be honest with you, I didn't see this coming. I was kind of expecting to stay with Dr. O'Hara's group until December, then I could be eligible to apply for a full time position." 

Jess nods in understanding, a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "Well, I've known Dr. O'Hara for over a decade now. If he made any changes, it's for good reason and probably best for your individual career path. Can't argue with the CEO." 

"CEO?" Your ears perk up. 

 "Oh..." Jess gives you a little embarrassed smile, nodding towards Gwen and Miles as she motions for you to join her a little further away out of earshot.

"Yeah...he recently started the whole internship program and likes to be hands on with up and coming scientists, so they're fully prepared to work under him and meet his standards. He hates it when people bring up his status as CEO. He just is under a lot of scrutiny and dislikes media coverage in general, so he keeps quiet about it...don't tell anyone I told you that." She murmurs to you with a wink. 

Finally, it all makes sense. The money, the lavish gifts, how powerful he was. It made sense Miguel was the elusive CEO of Alchemax that liked to hide from the public eye, despite Alchemax's blaring position in the limelight as the cutting edge of innovation for science and tech. A crowning jewel for the economy of Nueva York, putting them on the map as a technological hub and source of income for over 200,000 employees. 

You nod and go back to helping Jess, Miles and Gwen, continuing to work while being unable to get Dr. O'Hara to leave the back of your mind.

----- 

When it's time to leave and go to lunch, Jess stops you after Gwen and Miles had already left. "Hold on a sec!" 

Jess hands you a small white card with elegant gold trim around the edges. 

"You're wanted in the executive suite for lunch. Floor 99. And the code is written down here." She points to the neatly printed black numbers on the card.

"Now, this is important. You are forbidden to share this code with anyone, let alone tell anyone you were up there this afternoon. Got it?" Jess lowers her voice. 

"For-bidden. Meaning if you tell anyone, not only are you fired, but I am too, because I was the one who gave it to you. And I have no problem hunting you down... got it?" She shoots you a warm smile. 

You smile back, understanding she's mainly joking, but just trying to emphasize the importance of keeping it confidential and covering herself. You nod. "Absolutely...I'll, I'll guard it with my life." 

"Atta girl." 

You smile and walk out to the hall towards the elevators, impossibly wondering why on Earth your presence was needed in the part of the building less than a handful of people had privilege to access.

-----

You punch the button for floor 99. Nervousness and jitters rising in your body almost in sync with the glass elevator's ascent, passing floor after floor. 

Finally, floor 99 arrives with a loud ding. The doors open, revealing a polished marble hallway with a large, fancy door at the end. You walk down it, the sound of your shoes echoing off the walls, noticing the they are adorned with some of the finest artwork.

Cubism style paintings that must have cost a fortune. You pause at one of them, admiring the art, then resume your walk again, arriving in front of the large door. You look to your left and there's a small keypad. You enter the code: 

2-0-9-9

You jump back, startled as the door automatically, slowly creaks open, revealing a lavish, lounge suite. Floor to ceiling windows cover the wall on the far end you're facing, a wall with various pieces of tech and advanced looking gadgets are organized in a black case to your left. Gentle harp music playing from a speaker fills your eardrums. There's several tan, cozy looking sofas and sleek coffee tables in the middle. A water feature is on the wall to your right, tranquil water trickling down polished rocks and lightly splashing into a peaceful pond with green lily pads dialing up the degree of luxury. You walk towards the windows, taking in the afternoon cityscape of Nueva York and discover a huge buffet table laid out in front of it. 

Platters of the finest pastries and breads: croissants, Challah, assorted bagels, muffins, brownies, danishes, strudals, fritters, and the like. Next to it is freshly cut deli meats: ham, prosciutto, salami, pastrami, turkey, and roast beef arranged beautifully on wooden planks. Then a huge collection of cheeses  with cheddar, swiss, havarti, muenster, fresh mozzarella, a large wheel of expensive looking brie, raclette, camembert, and smoked gouda with elegant serving utensils.

Your mouth waters as you take in the sight of an enormous porcelain bowl of fresh fruit. The juiciest, greenest looking grapes you've ever seen with plump strawberries, fresh pineapple, delectable looking kiwi, freshly washed raspberries and mango. 

If you thought that wasn't enough food, there's also salads in crystal serving bowls: Wildberry, Cesar, Cobb, and a yummy looking pasta salad with bowtie noodles. 

You hear sharp clicking of stilettos behind you on the marble and you turn around. 

"There you are!" 

Lyla comes walking up to you with a smile, a little frazzled from all the other errands she's been running this morning, wearing a pink blazer with slacks to match, her brown bob hanging neatly around her cheeks.

"I'm glad you could make it! Miguel is running a little late. He's in a meeting, but in the meantime you're welcome to begin and get served up, then if you want to just have a seat at that table." She points to a large oak table next to the waterfall.

 "Oh, and what juice do you want, sweetie?" 

You blink, so overwhelmed by all of this fancy food and attention. This level of luxury something completely foreign to you. 

"Um...what do you have?" 

"It's all freshly squeezed." She says with a smile and adjust of her glasses. "Umm, lemme see if I can remember...okay, yes we have orange, apple, grape, cranberry, mango, passion fruit, grapefruit..." 

You think for a moment then tell her your selection. 

"Great! Coming right up. Oh, and there's also a coffee station, water station and assorted teas over there." She points to the end of the buffet table as she hastily walks into another room. 

---- 

A short time later, you're sitting with your huge plate of food and three drinks, munching away with a content look on your face, watching the city below outside the window as you dine on the fancy lunch. 

A door opens on the far end of the room and Miguel comes walking through, loosening his tie and shrugging off his blazer. Your cheeks heat up as he approaches, his white dress shirt clinging to his body and sparing you no detail of every bulking muscle of his figure, an endearing slight pudge of his stomach and a little smile on his face as he greets you for the first time. 

"Is the food to your liking?" He asks gently, draping his blazer over the back of the chair next to yours. 

"Oh! Um, yes. Yes, oh my God. Everything is amazing. Thank you, doctor..." 

"Miguel." Miguel responds firmly. "Please call me Miguel from now on." 

You nod, "Miguel..." 

Miguel's body gets warm at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He's a little ashamed because he'd love to make you say it again...a little louder eventually. 

"Well, eat as much food as you like. Feel free to take some with you. I'll have Lyla package it up for you." 

Miguel walks over to the table, dishing up his own plate. "I'm sure you might be wondering my reasons for all of this. Why I changed your internship and why I invited you here." 

Miguel finishes dishing up his plate, just a generous helping of the Wildberry salad with vinaigrette and a croissant, sitting next to you. Sauvage by Dior coming off his neck making you clench your hands into fists. 

"I invited you here because...I want to be straightforward with you. I'm very intrigued by you."

Your lips part, your fork falling out of your hand and clattering against the porcelain plate making you jump. A trace of amusement flashes across Miguel's face, then he returns to looking at you with a sincere  expression. "I've taken an interest in helping you with your career. With this medical school journey you are on." He continues, turning his attention to his salad, stabbing some of the lettuce.

"I'm a man who makes deals. If you are comfortable with it, I'd like to work out an agreement to where I provide you with anything you might need or desire in terms of funds, clothing, food..." He coats the bite of lettuce in some dressing. "In return, all I ask for is your complete loyalty and companionship. With the ability to negotiate what that looks like." 

You dab your mouth with your napkin, trying to make sense of what he's telling you. If you weren't mistaken it sounds like, "You want me to...be your sugar baby?" 

Miguel smiles, blowing a little air out of his nose. "For lack of a better term, yes." He takes a bite of his  croissant, then a generous sip of lemon water. 

"But, why. Why me? I mean...all the other girls in my dorm at my college, the smart women you work with, surely, there's someone else that would be a more equal fit to you. Why such an interest in someone like me?" 

Miguel pauses, setting down his fork. "Because I see in you what you don't see in yourself. You have potential. You're smart and determined. You've demonstrated you can work hard. You're different. I've noticed you're a lot kinder than your peers. You're humble, and you don't show off." He smiles. 

"You're a perfectionist and you put extra care into your work. I want to make your dreams of medical school happen for you. I see an investment that's very worthwhile." 

"An investment?" You ask. "I'm just a business proposition?" 

Miguel chuckles. "No...no....you are certainly more important than that. Traditionally, with these kinds of arrangements, there's a...a more intimate component to it." His brown eyes shine with the tiniest hint of mischief. "Typically, I'd provide all of this for you, and you'd give me something in return." 

Your breathing gets a little heavier. 

Miguel notices your flustered reaction and smirks, putting a reassuring hand on yours. The warmth of his palm radiating over your skin. "But, my mother raised me to give freely, without expectation of receiving anything in return. I would be fine providing for you as long as you'd let me. As long as you continue to work hard for my company, perform well in your studies, and agree to not to see anyone else while we are involved with one another, but I'm getting a little ahead of myself."

You remain silent, a quiet analysis underway in your mind as he slides a folder to you with a fancy ballpoint pen, the click of it alone sounding like a year's salary. "Open it." 

You obey and open the folder with shaky hands. A lengthy, formal agreement is neatly typed in small black letters, with ample blank space in between some of the clauses of the agreement, presumably for any changes you'd like to make. 

Miguel opens his own copy of the document, taking another fancy ballpoint pen in hand. "Now...this first paragraph details the money aspect of our arrangement. Since I sent you $1,000, that would be considered an advance on your allowance, and I would not send another payment until two weeks from yesterday. Unless, you are needing more before then?" He asks. "Why don't you list all of your debts for me and their respective amounts, and I'll write them down here." 

You nod, going through the list. There's your phone bill, your Netflix account, Spotify, your insurance, groceries, your three maxed out credit cards, a personal loan you owe the bank, as well as anything you need such as toiletries, medicine, and clothing. Miguel takes note of each one and writes it down. The room silent except for the gentle flick of his pen. 

"Perfect. These won't be an issue at all." He scans the next paragraph. "Now, for this portion, I need you to fill out this form." 

He slides you a new paper, and your eyebrows furrow in curiosity as you look at its contents. It almost looks like a personality quiz, asking for your favorite foods, drinks, places you like to go, your favorite colors, your favorite fashion brands, what makeup you like to use, jewelry you prefer, your height, and measurements. 

"What are these for?" 

"These are for me. So I can take care of you properly." Miguel says. 

You feel the area between your legs get hot when you notice one of the items. "F-favorite... position..." 

Miguel smirks. "Like I said, we can negotiate on that portion. I'm not expecting you to do anything intimate with me if you are not comfortable. But if you are..." He stands up, leaning over you a little bit. 

"Then I'd like to know, so I can pleasure you accordingly. In just the way you'd like..." 

You can feel yourself getting dizzy. Everything about this arrangement seemed so good to be true, you had yet to find any downsides to it. But it felt wrong, almost naughty. This man who was supposed to be your boss, now turned into your personal butler, chef, piggy bank, providing and pampering you with anything and everything a girl could possibly dream of or want.

"I...I might be okay with little things like...I don't know...kissing?" Your face heats up and you look down at your lap. Were you really talking out loud, in explicit detail about a proposed physical relationship with your boss? 

Miguel smiles and nods. "Alright..." He jots that down. "Anything else?" 

"Anything but...sex." you say the last word quietly as though it was a sin. 

Miguel gives you a reassuring smile, perking up a little bit in excitement at the idea of you opening yourself up to him a little more physically. "Could you be more specific?" He asks quietly. 

Your face burns and you look around to make sure Lyla or someone isn't around. 

"It's just you and me, cariño..." He says quietly, leaning a little closer to you. "I need you to be as specific as you can about what you are comfortable with doing together. Nobody will know, but you and I..." 

His tone is gentle, just above a whisper. You feel your insides curdle into honey. "Um...kissing, like making out..." 

"Mhmm..." Miguel nods slowly, writing it down. "Please, go on." 

"Um, touching..." 

"Over, or under clothing..." 

"Um.." you bite your cheek, trying to keep your composure. "....both." 

Miguel cocks his head at you, a smile curling on his lips. "You sound unsure." 

You shake your head "No I'm, I'm sure..." 

Miguel looks at you curiously. "You don't need to lie or say what you think I'd like to hear." He sets down his pen. 

"To be frank, your pleasure is positively correlated with my own. In order for mine to be optimized, yours must be completely satisfied...and I'd like to get as much as I can." 

Your eyes flutter and you swallow, nodding. "Ah-okay.... Um...yeah let's just do touching outside of our clothes for now." 

Miguel hums and takes note. "We'll revisit that part later, when we have more time. This next section is extremely important." 

He runs his finger down the page. "Now, these are just a few housekeeping items. I prefer minimal public displays of affection, and if there are any, they are extremely modest. Any public dates we go on will be limited so you are not spotted by the press. You are not to post of our relationship on social media. You must reject any romantic advances from anyone else. Does this all sound okay?" 

You blink a little at the rigid terms but nod. "Okay, yeah, understood." You look back down at the document, scanning over the next paragraph, noticing the next section, "Transparency...so, I'm allowed to ask you any questions I have before I sign the agreement?" 

"Yes, any questions you have, I'll answer. So you know what you're getting into." Miguel says, leaning back in his chair. 

"Have...have you had relationships like this before?" 

Miguel nods. "Yes, I have." 

You gulp, a little uneasy at his answer but you slowly digest it. "Have they been...employees of yours?" 

Miguel pauses as he recollects his memory. "No, admittedly. You are the first. That's why I moved you under Jess's leadership. To try and avoid any entanglements that would compromise my business."

You nod, biting the tip of your pen thoughtfully. "It says here you don't do marriage?" 

"Marriage? No. That's correct. I will not marry anyone." 

You hesitate. "Can I ask why?" 

Miguel nods, taking his seat next to you again. "I built this business from the bottom up. It means a great deal to me. I have entirely too much to lose. My fear for the security of my assets, along with the messy emotions of a marriage are why I refrain from entering into it again." 

"You were married before?" 

"Yes, once. She passed away shortly after my daughter was born." 

"I'm sorry..." You say quietly. 

"Don't apologize, it happened a long time ago. But, my not wanting to get married has caused many of the women who were in your position before to end the relationship. I understand if this is a deal breaker for you." 

You contemplate for several moments. Marriage was something you dreamed of, but with all of the amazing benefits he was offering you, perhaps you could put up with a ring being taken out of the equation, for now. "I think I can handle it." 

Miguel smiles and nods. "Very well...just know that you can terminate this arrangement at any time, and I won't harbor any feelings of animosity towards you if you do. I understand my requirements are extensive, but I intend to make sure it's completely worth it and you are happy and taken care of. If you sign this agreement, you will still be mine entirely. Anything you desire, anything you want. I promise it will be yours." 

His hand finds yours again. "Now...if you'll sign, please?" 

 

You quickly write your signature on the bottom line. A small breath leaving you as he tucks it back into the folder. "Wonderful...thank you. This means a great deal to me...with that said and done..." He takes you by the hand, helping you stand up. 

His eyes look into yours. You hold his gaze, a look of wonder on your face as you look back at this beautiful man who just promised to be all yours. Your wish his command. Every pretty and fine thing in his world at your disposal. He purrs quietly, bringing you closer. 

"Will you put your hands on my chest, please?" He whispers. 

You obey, your lips parting as you feel the dense muscle underneath your palms. A quiet rumble vibrating through him at the sensation of your touch. Your eyelids droop when you feel him bringing his hands to your hips. 

"And...I can put my hands here...?" He murmurs. 

You nod silently, wetting your lips. 

Miguel smirks at this, his own eyelids becoming heavy and he leans down towards you a little bit. "Can I have a kiss, before you go?"

You utter a shaky breath and nod, "Yes..." 

He carefully and gently presses his full lips against yours in a delicate kiss. He was softer than you were expecting. He hums quietly and begins slowly to open his mouth against yours, releasing little breaths into your mouth when you hold the kiss. 

Any anxiety you had about this arrangement seemed to dissapate as quickly as your lips met in a tender first meeting, your body now reacting with a mind of its own, your hands slowly sliding up his body, finding the back of his hair. 

Miguel grunts a little eagerly, pleasantly happy with the way you're responding, and he pulls you closer, sliding his tongue into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, using one of his hands to angle your head, requesting permission to leave his kisses elsewhere besides your lips. You groan and tilt your head back, letting him gently move his lips along your throat. He chuckles against your skin. "Perfect...." 

He sighs and cups your face in his hands, looking at you with adoring eyes. "I have to go away on business until Friday..." He brings you back in for another kiss, gliding his tongue across your lips, smiling as he hears you moan open mouthed into him. 

"Mmm….this...should hold me off until then." He presses his forehead against yours. "In the meantime, don't forget to fill out that paper of all your favorite things." He nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours. "I also need your phone number." 

You beam at him and eagerly enter your number into his sleek phone while he gently kisses the top of your head, watching you do it. Before you part, he speaks up. 

"One more thing, with me, you will be looked after and offered personal protection." 

A man enters the room. He's tall and lanky, sporting a grey turtleneck under a fancy tweed black trenchcoat and circular framed glasses with dark brown hair. He's rather cute and looks like a mashup of The Matrix meets Peaky Blinders. 

"This is Noir. He will be your personal driver. You're to let him know where you're going at all times and if there's anything you need, okay? He has my number as well, so any questions or concerns you have for me, you can also relay to him in the event that I'm unavailable." 

"Ma'am." Noir greets you with a friendly smile and polite kiss on the back of the hand. "Your wish is my command. Your safety and comfort is my utmost priority. If you're stuck in front of a train, my only job is to throw myself in front of it." 

Miguel clears his throat, a little annoyed with Noir's dramatics. "Yes...right. Take her home, please. Make sure she has anything she needs until Friday." He pulls you back in for one more kiss and hug. "And I'll see you...." He kisses you tenderly. "Very soon...¿Vale? (Right)

"Right..." You agree, giving him another gorgeous smile. "Thanks, Miguel. I'll miss you..." 

Miguel gives you a warm smile and one more peck on the lips. "Awh...te extraño más(I'll miss you more)." He winks. 

"Take care of her for me, Noir." 

"You got it, boss." 

----- 

Noir drives you in a sleek Mercedes back home, opening your door and making sure you have everything you need before he drives off into the night. 

You walk in your shared dorm with a big smile, only to have it wiped away when you open your fridge. Your leftovers from your takeout last night were missing. You close the fridge with a frown and walk towards your room, pausing outside Isla's room. You hear her voice along with Heather and Vivian's speaking in low volume which abruptly cuts off when they hear someone approaching. 

"Hey..." 

The three girls look up at you from their places on Isla's bed as though you killed their cat. 

"H-have you guys seen my food that was in the fridge?" 

"Don't know, don't care." Vivian snaps. 

You tense up, wondering where this hostility is coming from. "I don't get it, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing's wrong, except Professor Hill came in and bitched at all of us not cleaning the bathroom." 

You take a deep breath. "Okay...but, I told you guys last week, I'm tired of being the only one who cleans it, and this week I'm not doing it, so one of you needs to decide who's taking a turn this time." 

"Um, actually it is your job this week. Since you want to be a whore and sleep around with the boss." Heather says, crossing her arms. 

You feel a knot in your stomach. 

"What are....w-what..." 

"Huh, um what, duh?" Isla responds, mocking you in a deep voice with dramatic facial expressions. "Stop playing dumb. Now you think you're hot shit, getting to skip out on work now that you're his little slut and he's sending you flowers?" 

“First of all, it's none of your business, second of all, why are you privy to any of this, Isla? Did you go into my room while I was gone?” 

“It's none of your business, since you wanna play that game with me, you hoe.”  she retorts. 

"It's not my fault he chose me over your desperate ass, Isla!" 

Isla pauses, then chuckles darkly. "Oh sweetheart...." She gets up, shoving past you and racing towards your room. 

"What the-" you attempt to run after her but Heather and Viviana hold you back, pushing you against the door. "Ow-stop! Please!" 

Isla takes the bouquet of flowers from your window sill and the card, "ThAnK yOu FOr tHe sAnDwICh and fOR yOur DiliGEnt woRK fOR mY depaRtmEnt. EnJOy- Dr. O’HArA!" She reads in another mocking tone. 

"Isla, those are mine!" Heather and Vivian restrain your arms, preventing you from entering your room. "Stop!!" 

Isla smirks and opens your window, tossing the gorgeous bouquet of flowers out of it. 

Your heart sinks from your chest to your stomach and you bolt outside, Heather and Vivian cackling at your expense. 

Your lip trembles and eyes fill with tears as you crouch down, trying to pick up the pieces of the shattered vase and the tattered flowers that lay on the ground. 

----

Noir notices you're not as talkative as he drives you to work the next morning. “Long night?”

“Eh…” you try to brush it off. “Just issues with my living situation.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Noir asks, adjusting his mirror so his gray eyes look into yours. “I'm all ears.”

You make a tiny scoff, running your tongue along your teeth as you recount your confrontation with Heather, Isla and Vivian, sniffing as you tell him how they've made your life hell and picked on you ever since you moved into the sorority.

Noir nods, taking silent notes in his head as he quietly drives.

“Hey…” Noir says to you as you go to exit the car. “Don't let the bastards get you down, little lady.”

You crack a small smile, nodding and entering the building with a loud sigh.

----

After work, as you slide into the backseat, you gasp at the sight waiting for you. A fresh bouquet of red roses and babies breath even bigger and more gorgeous than the old one, with a new note from Miguel.

This vase is shatterproof. ;) Please tell me if they give you any more trouble. You're more precious to me than any flower. I hope this proves it.

All yours,

-Dr. O’Hara

----

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #spotify #Spotify

[lvnleah]

Moving Day | Alessia Russo

Based on this request!

Summary: it’s moving day and your wife, Alessia, gets protective over you due to you being pregnant.

Notes: a bit of a short one but it’s cute!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You loved your wife, Alessia, you really did, but ever since you’d become pregnant with your first child she felt overwhelming. Since the moment you started the ivf process, Alessia treated you like fragile glass.

It was like you were going to break at any given moment and she needed to wrap you up in bubble wrap. It was at the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if she did.

When you became pregnant, you and Alessia decided it was time to leave your apartment and move into a house. Your apartment was only ever supposed to be temporary until you and Alessia found a permanent place in London. You had a house in Manchester but when Alessia moved to Arsenal, you decided that an apartment was better for you both for the time being.

When you started to look for houses, Alessia took it more seriously than you. You weren’t in any rush to find a dream house but Alessia was. She wanted a house that you could raise you baby and any future children in.

You viewed six houses before you found ‘the one’ that was perfect. You were convinced that your estate agent thought Alessia was crazy. Every house that you viewed had to pass Alessia’s check list. It had to have at least three bedrooms, a large kitchen and living room and a good sized garden.

You and Alessia stood in the doorway of your new house, the sun casting a glow on the freshly painted walls. The scent of fresh paint hung in the air, something that was stressing Alessia out. It was moving day and you were 28 weeks pregnant.

The boxes were stacked high, and your friends Beth, Viv, Leah, and Vic were bustling around, carrying furniture and unpacking kitchenware.

“Lessi, please just let me unpack one box!” You pleaded with the blonde, a small pout resting on your face.

Alessia sighed, “Love, I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Me and the girls have it under control.” She said, pecking your lips as she walked past you with a box.

You wanted to help. You wanted to be part of this exciting transition into your new home. Once Alessia was out of sight, you picked up a small box labelled ‘Books’ and attempted to carry it to the bookshelf. Alessia swooped in like a hawk, her protective instincts on high alert.

"No, love," she said gently, taking the box from your hands. "You shouldn't be lifting anything heavy. Let the others handle it."

You huffed, frustration bubbling up. "Alessia, I'm not made of glass! I can carry a box or two."

You felt useless. You wanted to scream, to tell Alessia that you weren't fragile, that you could help but instead, you bit your lip and nodded.

As the day wore on, Alessia continued to shield you from any physical exertion. You watched as your friends laughed and chatted. Alessia was in her element, directing where things were to go and ensuring everything was in its rightful place. You felt like an outsider, a spectator of your own life.

When Alessia was outside, you picked up a small box of your clothes. You were halfway up the stairs when Alessia swooped in and took the box from your hands.

“Less!” You groaned in frustration, “just let me carry the goddamn box! I’m not glass, I’m pregnant. It’s just a box of clothes.”

“Babe, it’s okay.” She said, walking away from you. “I can do it.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, trying your best not to scream and Alessia and get pissed off. Leah joined you on the stairs.

“You alright?” She asked, placing a comforting hand on your back.

“I’d be alright if Lessi let me carry a box and stopped treating me like fucking glass!” You murmured, making your way up the stairs.

Alessia left the room once again and this time you decided to unpack a box downstairs in the kitchen. Just as you began to lift the glasses out of the box and into the cupboard, Alessia swooped in once again.

“Please be careful,” Alessia pleaded, taking the glass from your hands, “One of the girls can do this.”

Finally, you snapped. “Alessia, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not made of glass. I can carry a box or two and help unpack!”

She turned to face you, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “You’re pregnant! You should be resting, not lifting heavy things.”

“But I’m not helpless!” You said, your voice raised a little. “I can still do stuff!”

Your argument escalated quickly and you found yourself going back and forth. Your voices rose until your friends paused in their tracks, watching you with wide eyes. Alessia’s cheeks flushed, and you knew I’d hit a nerve when she stormed off and left you alone in the kitchen.

By late afternoon, exhaustion settled in and your friends had left your house. Alessia and you hadn't exchanged more than a few words since that initial clash. You sat on the edge of your bed, rubbing some lotion into your bump. Alessia joined you, her expression softer now.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely audible. "I only want what’s best for you and our baby, love.”

"I know," you replied, tears welling up. "But I need to feel useful too. I'm not just an incubator. I wanted to help today Lessi, I did, but I felt like you were stopping me."

She kissed your forehead as she pulled you into her side, "I love you, and I want to protect you both. I went overboard and I’m sorry."

"You did," you said, your voice trembling. "But I also need you to trust me, I know my own body, and that you won't smother me."

You sat there, your emotions swirling like leaves caught in a storm for a short moment. Alessia placed a delicate kiss on your temple.

"I don't want to control you," she whispered. "I just want us to be safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you or our baby, you're my whole world.”

"I know," you murmured. "But sometimes it feels like a cage."

“I’m sorry,” Alessia sighed, “Tomorrow I’ll let you help but just nothing heavy, alright?”

You laughed and tilted your head to be in line with Alessia’s. You kissed Alessia’s soft lips before you both crawled into bed together. The next day, you found a good balance between helping and not going overboard. Alessia let you carry the light boxes but also helped you unpack the heavy ones.

The next night, you laid down together in your bed, exhaustion overtaking the both of you. In each other's arms, you drifted off to sleep. Alessia’s hand rested on your growing bump as your baby kicked away. Despite all the stress of moving, you absolutely loved your new house and couldn’t wait to fill it with memories that you and Alessia were soon going to create together. The first starting with welcoming your baby into the world.

#alessia russo x reader #awfc x reader #alessia russo fluff #awfc #awfc imagine #woso x reader

[neptunes-sol-angel]

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Pile One

I feel like your relationship with your guides is like “hide and seek”. They have an old presence in your life. Even if you are just now beginning your spiritual journey or are just now having the urge to seek out more about them and who they are, it seems as if they have always been in your life, and already have a connection or have had close contact with you. Specifically when you were a kid. Perhaps you’ve had “imaginary friends”, repetitive encounters with the same person or entity in your dreams, or have parents who recall you being distracted and smiling a lot at what appears to be mundane things as a baby. I call this hide and seek, because it’s like a lot of your occultic knowledge or experience psychic gifts were things that you’ve already learned as a child, but were conditioned to move away from for whatever reason. Your stunted relationship with your guides could appear in interests that you also had to separate from, like studying mythology, an interest in plants but also marine animals, gaming, drawing comic book characters, collecting items for yourself but stopping because someone considered that as not intellectual or important, and even crafting things yourself, regardless of how good you were at it, but because it gave you peace and happiness. Your guides see you as their family, they protect you like they are your parents, because their love for you is like having a child. They love it when you’re being silly and they love to sneak in silly things for you, to let you know that they’re here and when something is going to be ok. Maybe you use dark humor frequently as a way to cope with something that you’re struggling with or when you think about the ways that you’ve been let down in the past. You joke that way because you feel that it’s the only way to have some control in a situation that you predetermined will go down hill and be the end of you. You could talk to yourself or talk about your life in a way that is self-loathing and impeded, but your guides work and send you messages meant to bring you back up whenever you’re losing your determination to keep going. They’ll joke with you, but not in a way that encourages you to lose hope or to fail in seeing the good in yourself. It’s more like instead of showing you to laugh at yourself, you laugh at your mistakes, or you laugh at how crazy other people can be when they displace their negative inner feelings onto other people to show that it has nothing to do with who you are, what you do, or what you look like. Money is strong in this pile. This could be a message saying that you won’t have to fear about money forever and that a financial breakthrough is going to happen for you and you’re going to be financially stable doing something that you love or are currently building to support your living situation. However, mainly, I’m getting that in your spirit guides’ eyes, they’ve watched you grow up feeling less than because you didn’t grow up with a certain luxury, maybe you grew up in poverty, felt insecure about the things that seemed so easily accessible to everyone but you, or don’t know what it’s like to have a loving parent, but your guides have always seen you as a rich person and it has nothing to do with material items. They see you as brilliant, you work so hard for what you have and you’ll see the results multiply in the future, even if you struggle to find the right words for yourself–You always know what to say to others about stuff that they struggle to see within their own lives.

Pile Two

Your strongest clair could be clairaudience. If not, then it feels like you guys are good with picking up things by what people or say, or you have a strong intuition for what isn’t visible or said, but you have a poor time going forward with your intuition. When you get “right”, you tend to go left, then regret what you find out because you didn’t listen to what was initially divinely given to you. Your guides are nature beings, you can connect with them through plants but also relics or shrines. I keep getting inanimate objects, so you could have a few deities that govern planets, like moon goddesses watching over you. I feel that the connection that you have with your guides is like Yue from Avatar: The Last Airbender. You mirror each other and embody dark feminine energy. They’re gentle, ancient, and wise. People think that all spirit guides are like that, but no. Guides have personalities of their own, and not all are good. They see you as loving, maybe too loving, meaning you love without boundaries which could cause you some pain and a lot of repressed anger. You may not like to be perceived or put on a pedestal, but they do, because they truly see what’s in your heart. You just need guidance. They accept you for your good and bad traits, but it doesn’t mean they don’t lead you into improvement and learning to take accountability. You can be sweet, but you can also be bitter. They feel hurt when they see that you’re hurting, but they don’t want you to hold on to bitterness because people that harmed you will see that again and it’s not your business as to when. I will say that this isn’t to mistake them as peace and turn the other cheek, because they are not. They are wrathful behind the scenes towards people who hurt you or even think about hurting you. They’re very protective over your life, but there are some things you have to do to look after yourself since you guys are from two different worlds. This pile feels extremely hazy. They say that you are so smart, beautiful, and talented, but you have trouble seeing this and it pains them. You have potent manifesting abilities that range from making things happen yourself with your skills to knowing how to conjure with spirituality. It’s like you can create and create, but that’s still not enough for you, even when you are likely to top the latest thing you achieved. You need to learn how to rest and also be okay with yourself. There’s this habit of working and studying a lot for credentials, but still feeling less confident, leading you to give your power away to people who are boastful. This is a problem if you are psychic and are trying to find your way in spiritual communities or communicating with other spiritual people. Stop falling for words that convince you that someone knows more occultic knowledge than you or about your own personal journey and intuition. This is also a message for people to stop shying away from making content or starting a business in the occult because you fear that other people are better than you when that isn’t true, and stay away from people who influence you to think like that because they are not your friends or someone to trust.

Pile Three

You guys could have a lot of ancestral type spirits in your team and are probably reincarnations of ancestors in your past bloodline. You guys are cycle breakers and reapers of work and good karma that’s been gained in the spiritual world, meaning lots of inheritances, especially if you have passed down closed spiritual practices. This pile reminds me of the 4h-10h axis in astrology, each house rules over many different things but what sticks out that relates to this reading is the fourth house dealing with ancestors and the 10th house dealing with your public reputation. A lot of celebrities are famous because they have strong ties with their ancestors who are well respected spirits. People in this pile are destined for blazing success and fame. This can reveal itself in different professions, that could be but are not limited to, writers, actors, singers, entrepreneurship or something related to public speaking. Even though I feel practitioners and believers of spirituality in this pile, especially since this is a tarot reading, there’s a lot of skepticism here. There’s not enough trust or belief and this could be upsetting to your guides, they’re able to see things beyond your present reality which could make them patient, you could even be an impatient person, but it seems like both of you need to allow time to do its thing. Your guides see what you’re capable of, and before you are finally able to see it if you don’t already, they don’t want you to become arrogant and feel like potential is enough to back you up. They believe in putting in the work. They also see that you’re traditional even though you don’t want to be. You guys could be raised around a religion where witchcraft is shunned upon, and speaking about ancestors is discouraged which could explain the impatience. This could also be interpreted as you seeing this success but frustration over how far away it feels or how impossible it could be, and it’s like they see you as being dramatic or frantic about things that are going to inevitably work out. There was a message that I channeled for pile one and didn’t mention but I’m receiving it strongly here instead. It’s like things could be taking their time because you have to learn self-control. They don’t want you to let money and social climbing get into your head and make you forget where you come from, humility, and being in community with others. The fame and success isn’t given for you to hoard, but so that you can continue spreading the blessings to others, especially in your family.

#pick a card reading #pick a card #divination #intuitive #psychic #tarot #spirituality #pac #tarotblr #pick a pile

[stillmonsterz]

when you split the heart open

pairing: heeseung x reader, jake x reader (kind of)

genre: smut, angst (?)

summary: heeseung is dating the girl of his dreams. the only problem? he has to have sex with her.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, name-calling, manipulation, exhibitionism, dubcon, public sex, humiliation (?), heeseung is a cuck

word count: 5.1k

---

Heeseung had a girlfriend, and she was amazing. She was pretty, smart, funny, and her body was out of this world. She had a particular vibrancy and joie de vivre that made spending time with her invigorating. She was the opposite of a dead fish in the bedroom- she was vocal, enthusiastic, and loved to please him.

He disliked having sex with her.

Sometimes he almost pitied her; she would seduce him in any way she could, winding her hips seductively, crawling towards him on the bed wearing nothing but thigh-high socks, rubbing his crotch under the table when they ate out, anything to catch his attention. Of course, he didn’t pass up a good fuck – he wasn’t insane – but it did nothing for him but provide a quick release.

It wasn’t like he didn’t love her, he did. He was convinced that someday, he could even marry her. It’s just that he found that he loved her best when she was farther away from him, someone he could admire rather than keep. Heeseung found her beautiful at 11 pm, when she would dance alone in her bedroom wearing a baggy T-shirt. Or when she would shove her face into her pillow and thrust the end of a hairbrush into her pussy. It was an amazing night when he had caught that- he had been parked outside of her apartment complex, so he got a side-view, and the camera he had set up in her closet gave him a perfect shot of her smooth legs and raised ass. The day after that, when they had had sex in his van, the memory of her chasing her orgasm got him to finish.

Heeseung was a voyeur, and he was starting to think that it was becoming a problem. And it wasn’t even a problem he could complain about; in a moment of weakness, he had told his best friend Jay that he didn’t like how frequently his girlfriend wanted sex, and Jay had heavily implied that Heeseung was gay.

He was getting really sick and tired of having to fuck his girlfriend all the time. Heeseung had suggested mutual masturbation, which backfired. It ended up being too intimate for him and it just got her hot. She had pounced on him and ridden him as if her life depended on it.

At times, he missed how things were before they started dating. He had met her at her job, and had never revisited. Instead, he had waited for her shift to finish, followed her home, and tugged himself dry while he watched her undress in her room. The curtains were too sheer, and sometimes she wouldn’t even draw them. It made him think she wanted him to see her, and the thought of that always made him harder.

She had approached him at the local grocery store, as he was buying ramen noodles. She had said that she had wanted to see him again, Heeseung had made up some excuse, and through a series of events that Heeseung hadn’t lived through so much as passively observed, they had ended up dating.

It had been eight months of dating, cuddling, and sex, and he felt exhausted. He wanted things to go back to normal, but he also loved spending time with her. So he started making up excuses to not sleep with her. Headaches, shifts at work, weird erections from his medication.

One day, a few days after their eight month anniversary where Heeseung had reluctantly eaten her out, she confronted him. They were sitting on his couch, playing Mario Kart, when she turned to him.

“Do you still like me?” she asked, voice shaky.

Heeseung shut the TV off immediately. “Huh? Of course I like you- baby, I love you.” He rested his hands on hers as they clutched the controller.

“Then why don’t you like sleeping with me?”

“No, no, I…” Heeseung hesitated. This was the perfect time to come clean. They could work things out, maybe. It would be good to get it off his chest. “Okay. Okay, I’ve been having a…problem. It has nothing to do with you, I promise.”

Her eyes were wide and glassy. She was wearing his large hoodie and a pair of dolphin shorts. She looked perfect. “A problem?”

“Yes, a problem. I…I…look. I like you. I love you. You’re my girl.” Heeseung reached out and stroked her cheek gently. “The problem is that you’re just…like an angel to me. It feels wrong when I…when I fuck you.”

“What?” It came out as a squeak, and she recoiled from his touch. “Feels wrong?”

“No, no, not that you’re wrong, it’s me, it’s that…” Heeseung sighed. “I like to look at you I like seeing you move, it’s like art come to life. It feels like when I touch you, I’m sullying something beautiful, something that needs to be kept clean.” Heeseung thought that if he made it sound more romantic and less like a paraphilia, she would be more inclined to hear him out. And to his glee, she slowly leaned into his touch again, her cheek rubbing against his hand.

“You find me beautiful?”

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met,” he said, staring her in her luminous eyes. “Too gorgeous for me.”

“You aren’t,” she said imploringly, holding his wrist with her two hands. “Heeseung, I love you. And I really like having sex with you. Why did you sleep with me all those times if you didn’t enjoy it?”

“I did enjoy it, I did. I just…I wanted to make you happy, baby.” Heeseung kissed her forehead. “Your happiness matters the most to me. I’d do anything for you.”

“And I’d do anything for you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips. He kissed her vack, cupping her face in his hands.

“Anything for me?”

“Anything, Heeseung.”

“I have an idea.”

He clambered into his room and pulled out his hairbrush. “Just…just use this to get off, okay?” He handed it to her, and she accepted it slowly, turning it over like it was a foreign object.

His girlfriend looked up at him. “Right now?”

Heeseung shook his head. “Not yet. Hold on.” He ran to his room again and found an old handheld camcorder.

She squinted at it. “You’re going to film me?”

“No, it’s dead,” he lied. “See?” He showed her the black screen. “I’m just going to use this to mimic the feeling of….uh, awayness. Like an extra screen between you and I.”

She fiddled with the hairbrush, feeling its smooth wooden end with her thumb. “Well…I mean, I’m not really in the mood right now….”

“You’re always in the mood,” he replied, frustration slowly building in him. “I swear you’re like a dog in heat sometimes.”

His girlfriend’s eyes widened again. “What?”

“You’re always asking to get fucked. You’re like a nymphomaniac, I swear. I bet you go home and hump your pillows right after I turn you out because you just can’t get enough.” Heeseung had seen exactly that from one of his midnight excursions to her place.

“I’m not a nympho-,”

“Oh, yes you are. Whores like to get fucked less than you do. I can only imagine how much you got around before I cuffed you.” He saw her shove one hand down her dolphin shorts. He raised the camera with a smile.

“I’m a whore?” Her face was flushed, and her eyes were squeezed shut.

“You’re a whore who gets off to being called a whore. Good fucking thing you’re with me, or else you would have been taken advantage of already, especially with that slutty body of yours.”

To his growing delight, she had tugged her shorts off and slipped her dainty little panties off. The end of his hairbrush slipped deftly in and out of her glistening folds.

Heeseung stopped talking, as so not too ruin the footage with his voice. He just watched her circle her clit with her manicured fingers, watched her pussy swallow the hairbrush.

“Heeseung,” she moaned, and he scowled, cutting the video short.

“Don’t say my name,” he said. “And keep your eyes shut.” When her eyes fluttered shut, he turned the camera on. He stroked himself in time with the insertion of the hairbrush. Seeing her splayed out on his couch, her head tossed back, his hoodie riding up to expose her soft tummy…it was amazing. And the fact that she didn’t know he was filming her made it all the better. It was forbidden, it was wrong, it was perfect. When she came, she nearly said his name again, but she cut herself off instead. He didn’t let himself cum, but he moaned and pretended like he did too.

Heeseung kissed his girlfriend, licked the sweat off of her face. “Perfect,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The second she left his house, he sniffed the couch, the exact place where she had sat as they had played video games. Her scent was so strong; he buried his face into the faux leather and inhaled deeply. Heeseung closed his eyes, imagined her masturbating herself all alone in room, and finished all over the couch.

He was going to have so much fun.

The platonic aspects of their relationship stayed the same. They would have simple at-home dates, occasionally going out to restaurants or the movies or anywhere she liked. Heeseung didn’t really care what they did as a couple. He just liked to be around her.

They still had sex, but it had gone from several times a week to once every two weeks. It was still a dreaded task for Heeseung, but it balanced out now that they had incorporated his voyeuristic tendencies into their relationship.

On movie dates, he made sure to get tickets in a theatre with a sparse audience. Then, he would leave his seat, sitting a few rows back, and watch his girlfriend play with herself, fondling her tits and slipping a hand into her jeans. If they went to the beach, Heeseung would take her to a secluded spot, tell her to lie down on a towel, and to strip. She would sunbathe completely nude,  rubbing lotion all over herself.

When she would go out with her friends, Heeseung would periodically text her, asking her to unbutton a few of her buttons, or to send him a picture of her panties. He asked her to fuck herself in public bathrooms and to send videos for proof. He would lazily stroke his cock to the grainy footage of her sliding her fingers in and out of her tight pussy. When she told him that men were hitting on her, he would text, “Good job.” Then he would tell her to unbutton another few buttons, or to part her legs as she rode the subway. What he would really like would be for her to walk around dressed in a tiny little crop top that showed the underside of her breasts and shorts that displayed her bare ass, but Heeseung knew he was already asking for a lot.

A few times, he had strapped her to his bed with rope, so that her arms and legs were bound. He had affixed a phone-controlled vibrator between her thighs, and he watched her writhe on his bed with glee. Heeseung watched her have orgasm after orgasm, and if she begged him to stop he would get angry. He would complain that she had ruined it. He would pry her mouth open with his fingers, and she would suck him off to completion. Then he would start the process over again, until her face was flushed, her legs would shake, and he could even glimpse her pussy clenching around nothing. It was fun for him, but eventually he grew tired of watching it. He had tried making it more interesting by binding her fingers in front of her hole so she could tremblingly fuck herself, but the rush of that wore off too. Heeseung needed something more, something that could sate his urges.

So he had asked for something else.

---

“You want me to do what?” They were at a café, and she put down the croissant she had been nibbling.

Heeseung raised his hands. “You don’t have to do it. It was just a suggestion.”

“Heeseung, I know you’re struggling, but…nude karaoke?”

He sighed and looked away from her. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s getting hard, you know. I love you, and I feel like I’m not good enough for you. It’s really messing with me, up here…” Heeseung tapped the side of his head. “I feel like a freak.”

Her face softened, and she reached out to hold his hand. “You’re not a freak, my love. You’re just…”

“A perv who wants his girlfriend to get nude in front of strangers.” Heeseung laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m really normal.”

“You’re not a perv, either.” She swallowed. “I mean…this could actually be good for me. It could help me explore my sexuality more.” She squeezed his hand and mustered up a smile. “I think we should try it?”

Heeseung didn’t allow himself to smile. “Yeah? I mean, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I want to do this.”

He leaned across the table and kissed her all over her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the nicest girl ever.”

That night was nude karaoke night at a local var. When they arrived, there were only a five dozen or so attendees, mainly men. They were sitting around a makeshift stage in wooden chairs that had been dragged from the surrounding tables. A woman was there, warbling a song as she swayed her hips. The men seemed bored, and Heeseung started to feel prideful. His girl, who was wearing a loose white dress and had folded her arms tightly around her chest, was so much prettier than that other woman. These men were going to shit themselves when she started to sing.

The woman finished her song, and the applause was scattered. Then his girlfriend slowly walked onto the stage, her heels clacking against the floor. Her hands were scrunched into fists. As she adjusted the mic, one man yelled, “Take your tits out, now!”

Another said, “Don’t look so shy, sweetheart.”

Heeseung was elated.

She introduced the song she was going to sing – Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. Heeseung had heard her sing that one; her voice had always sounded so melancholic, fragile, and sweet. He smiled at her encouragingly.

The intro to the song played, and she pulled her dress off, revealing her stunning body. The men whooped and cheered, hurling vulgarities at her. She tried to sing, clutching the microphone tightly, but the jeering was loud. As Heeseung scanned the small space, he saw that the men around him were either stroking their bulges covertly or outright jerking themselves off.

His girlfriend kept singing with her eyes closed. Heeseung wanted her to open them, so she could see the effect he was having on all of those men. They were all drooling after her, calling her a slut, saying that she must be tight, that they would fuck up whoever got to tap that pussy. Heeseung jerked himself off right there, joining in the orgiastic atmosphere of the cramped little bar. He watched her sing, his heart full.

When she finished, the patrons begged her to keep singing. They tossed money at her, wadded bills. She glanced at Heeseung, who nodded, and so she continued to sing, this time quietly crooning In The Mood For Love.

A man told her to play with her tits while she sang, and she did, running her thumb along her nipples. It was more than Heeseung could handle, and he came halfway through the song.

After her second performance, she hurried off of the stage, collecting some of the money before pulling her dress on. She ran out, which was smart, because the men were starting to clamor for her to do worse acts. Heeseung followed after her, and before he opened his car, he kissed her in the parking lot.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, kissing her again. “So amazing. Your voice is beautiful.”

She scoffed. “My voice?”

Heeseung shrugged playfully. “And, you know, your body. You looked sexy up there. Everyone thought so.”

His girlfriend rested her hands against his chest. “Did you think so?”

“Of course I did,” he said in a placating tone, stroking her hair. “Of course, baby.”

“You’re the only person I care about,” she said quietly.

“Me too.”

She hesitated. “Did you…like what I did? How did that make you feel, me going up there, naked, and…”

Heeseung tilted her chin up with his finger. “I loved it. I fucking loved it. I came in mere minutes. You’re amazing, baby.”

She reached out to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Heeseung held her like she would slip away from him.

--

After that, she became different. Without even asking, she had started to wear tighter, shorter clothes. She used to go out in dresses, worn jeans, or she’d just wear his hoodies. Now, she wore bodycon dresses, miniskirts that practically gave you peeks of her ass, and she had cut her shirts up so that they displayed her midriff. It was amazing.

He liked to parade her around the mall now. The sight of men and women alike ogling his girlfriend made his cock so hard, he would walk with a limp. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he would take her into the family bathroom, or slip into a change room and fuck her in there. Public sex was marginally better than regular sex with her, because he liked to imagine that men were fantasizing about her. He would close his eyes and imagine her naked, standing like a mannequin in a store, and all of the men who had lasciviously eyed her in the mall being forced to see her but unable to touch. It was a glorious time.

The novelty wore off after a few months, and he lost interest in having sex with her again. She could tell, and he knew that she was getting nervous. She performed at nude karaoke again, but even that did nothing for him.

He knew what he wanted from her.

On their first anniversary as a couple, Heeseung had taken her to brunch at a restaurant she had been eyeing. She wore this little black crop top with a tiny skirt, and her makeup was perfect.

Towards the end of their meal, Heeseung dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Baby,” he began, staring her in the eyes, “you are my better half. I can’t believe I’ve been able to spend a full year with you. You’re so kind, so sweet, so understanding, and so gorgeous.” He reached out and kissed her hand, and she giggled. “You’re the light of my life. You’re my reason to go on, and you deserve the moon. Unfortunately, all I can offer you is this.” Heeseung pulled a small black box out of his jacket pocket.

With a smile so bright Heeseung swore it could cause flowers to bloom, she opened the box. She gasped when she saw the charm bracelet he had bought her. “Oh, Heeseung,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is so expensive.”

“You deserve it,” he said softly, taking the bracelet and slipping it onto her wrist. “You deserve the world, baby.”

“I have it right here,” she replied.

They shared a kiss, then Heeseung leaned into her ear. “I was thinking…we could make this anniversary even more special.”

Her lips curled into a mischievous little smile. “How?”

“You said you’d do anything for me, right?”

She pulled away from him slightly, her lips setting into a thin line.

“Right?” he asked firmly, taking hold of her hand.

“Of course,” she said frantically, “anything for you, my love.”

---

The motel that Heeseung had driven them to was shoddy and sleazy. There were people outside smoking on lawn chairs, and dilapidated cars filled the parking lot. The neon sign affixed to the window flashed its name: Ethan’s Motel. Heeseung ushered his girlfriend inside, and he took note of the people populating the motel. Tweakers, men in sweaty wife-beaters.

He wondered which one would give his girlfriend the best fuck.

In the end, he told her to find someone while he set up the rooms. She asked how, and he told her to just be upfront with them. Heeseung had bought two rooms, which stunk of dust and reeked of bodily fluids. He hid a small camera in a flower pot- his girlfriend didn’t know about that – and shoved a nail through the wall to make a small hole, just to cover his ass.

Then he went to the other room to set up his laptop, which showed the feed from the camera. He set that on the small desk directly in front of his bed.

Within ten minutes, his girlfriend was leading a man into the motel room. He looked around their age and had a shaggy mop of hair. He was shorter than Heeseung, so Heeseung figured that his dick was probably smaller, too. But his girlfriend wouldn’t mind that, he was sure- who knows how much random dick she’d bounced on before they dated? Anyways, her hookup looked nice enough, but then again, he was hanging around a place like this.

“What did you say your name was?” she asked, still holding his hand. She sat down on the bed, and the guy followed.

“Jake,” he said. “And yours?”

She told him her name, and he nodded.

“Well, you’re…you’re hot as hell,” Jake said, laughing awkwardly. He scratched the back of his neck. Heeseung was getting really pissed off, but he told himself to be patient.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said lowly, tracing a finger down Jake’s chest. Heeseung shivered. “I think you know how to please a woman, right?”

Jake smirked and slowly pushed Heeseung’s girlfriend down until he was hovering above her. “Come find out.”

Heeseung watched Jake make out with his girlfriend. He watched his girlfriend lie, refusing to even touch Jake. It made him frown. She was supposed to be enjoying this. He wanted to see her in the throes of ecstasy, wanted to see her in all of her hedonistic glory.

Finally, she kissed Jake back, and he started taking his clothes off. He seemed as frantic as Heeseung was. She undressed, casting her clothes aside, and Jake was on top of her again.

Jake shifted around so that her ass was above his face as she lied on top of him. He started to lick her pussy, firmly gripping her ass with both of her hands. She started to suck him off, only licking the tip at first before throating Jake’s cock.

Heeseung whimpered, unzipping his jeans and only allowing himself minimal pressure as he palmed himself over his boxers. If he didn’t pace himself, he was going to cum before the fun truly began.

Jake continued to eat Heeseung’s girlfriend out, and Heeseung could hear his moans through the door. His girlfriend was being incredibly quiet, however, which was annoying. She pulled herself off of Jake and sat at the head of the bed. She spread her legs and looked up at Jake with empty eyes. Jake crawled towards her, and from that angle Heeseung could only see his hips moving rapidly and his girlfriend’s legs quivering. Her hands feebly wrapped around Jake and hugged him tightly as she pounded her.

Then Jake laid flat on his back and she got on top of him. The way she arched her back, practically dancing on Jake’s dick, made Heeseung moan. She gripped Jake’s shoulders and took him to the hilt, her eyes closed. Jake was holding her hips and whispering, “Fuck, fuck that’s nice, fuck.” It was annoying that this shmuck didn’t have anything better to say, but Heeseung didn’t really care. He was forcing himself to stroke himself at a snail’s pace, when all he wanted to do was rub his dick raw.

His girlfriend got off of Jake’s cock and went on all fours, so that she was facing the TV of the motel room. In other words, she was facing Heeseung’s camera. It felt like magic, like she knew or something. He couldn’t take it anymore, and Heeseung spit in his hand and started stroking himself directly. Jake kneeled behind Heeseung’s girlfriend and started ramming into her, one hand slapping her ass and the other pulling her hair back.

Heeseung took in the details of her body; the shuddering of her torso, the trembling of her arms as she steadied herself on the bed, the way that her ass pressed against Jake’s groin as he pounded into her, the way her breasts freely shook, the conflicted expression on her perfect little face, the sheen of sweat covering her from her head to her toes. Heeseung had always known that she was beautiful, but now he swore that she was an angel.

Jake panted, “I’m close, fuck, fuck!” so Heeseung rubbed his cock even faster, his other hand squeezing his balls. It was an Olympic feat to suppress his growing orgasm, but he didn’t want to mess this up. Not when his girlfriend was whimpering so prettily, when she was so consumed by her own pleasure, guilt, and embarrassment that she had probably forgotten all about the camera filming it all. Heeseung thought he might die.

With a guttural moan, Jake came in her, weakly thrusting a few more times to drain the last of his cum. Then he let her drop onto the bed, and she collapsed like a rag doll. Heeseung came as well, biting his lip harshly so he wouldn’t moan. He milked his cock with a white-hot fervor, riding out his high for as long as he could. When the aftershock hit him, all he could do was take quick gasps of air. Heeseung licked his lips and tasted blood.

Jake stroked his girlfriend’s hair, kissed her forehead, then whispered something in her ear. The sight of her limp and pliant, barely lifting her head to talk to Jake, was so arousing that Heeseung wished he had it in him to jack off again. This footage would last him for months.

As Heeseung closes his eyes to relive the memory, Jake put his clothes on. He dug around in his jacket, pulled out a few bills, and left them on her back. He left, closing the door with a soft click. Heeseung’s girlfriend remained where she was, as stiff as a corpse. Heeseung didn’t leave his motel room right away, the images in his head too vivid, too lush.

Heeseung walked inside of the motel room, and the smell of sex was intoxicating. “Baby, that was amazing- you, you were amazing.” His grin is stretched maniacally wide, and his steps towards the hidden camera were buoyant. “I came so hard, baby. It was perfect, just perfect.” He removed the camera from the potted plant and tucked it carefully into its bag.

She hadn’t said a word, just resting on her stomach. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shaky. Poor thing, Heeseung thought, she hadn’t had a fucking like that since we got together. Poor little angel. He walked over to her and lay next to her on the bed. He kissed her over and over, holding her slick cheeks in her hands. “You’re so perfect,” Heeseung whispered. “Thank you so much, thank you, thank you. You’re amazing, thank you, thank you.”

She opened her eyes, and her apprehensive gaze made Heeseung’s cock stir. “I feel dirty,” she said, voice choked with emotion.

“No, baby,” he said, kissing her nose again. He gently crawls on top of her, circling his arms around her waist. “You’re not dirty. You’re good, so good. You’re the best. There’s nothing wrong with…with exploring. Didn’t it feel good? Didn’t you enjoy it?” His girlfriend hesitated, so he firmly said, “You enjoyed it. Right? I could tell you did.”

She nodded, bucking her head against his chin affectionately. “I did.”

“You did,” Heeseung breathed out. “I knew you would, my sweet girl.” His hand trailed down to his pants zipper, and he pulled his cock out. He gave it a few strokes, but the sight of another man’s cum coating her thighs was all the motivation he needed. “You’re the best,” he cooed, slipping inside of his girlfriend. It was so easy because she had been fucked open by Jake, and she took him so well. The only sound she made when he entered her was a soft little sigh.

Heeseung closed his eyes and thought of her face again, the contortion of her features into that portrait of debauchery. His arms remained tight around her in a stiff embrace, his cheek resting on her head. He thought about how amazing it would be to see another man fuck her again. Maybe two, three, a train of strangers having their turns with his girlfriend, his beautiful, kind girlfriend. Heeseung couldn’t have pulled out of her if he had tried as the fantasies overtake him. He finished inside of her, hot jizz clamoring out of him in spurts, and wiped his tip on one of the bills Jake left on her back. The room felt like it was spinning, and every nerve ending in his body felt alight with fire. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, “I love you so much.”

Heeseung pushes the money off of her back and carries his girlfriend into the small bathroom. He placed her inside of the cracked bathtub and filled it with warm water. He left her there to get her toiletry bag, and when he came back she was staring at the ceiling. As he scrubbed her body, he pressed kisses to her skin. He washed her like a piece of alabaster pottery, washing her thoroughly. When he dried her off, he noticed that she hadn’t said a single word. “Baby?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Heeseung.”

He carried her to bed and dressed her in her grey robe. He stripped to his boxers and kissed her cheeks before he pulled the covers over them both. He pulled her head onto his chest and stroked her soft, downy hair.

He had never felt so in love.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut

[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan.2

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: angst, smoking, mention of vomiting, Remus spiralling, Peter being v worried, James being a doting mother hen, Sirius being a cheeky bastard.

Remus didn’t stay in potions that day.

He gave Professor Slughorn a hasty excuse and beelined it from the room, earning him bemused stares from Peter, James, and Sirius. He couldn’t stay there – he couldn’t breathe the air you’d been breathing – it hurt, it burned, it was too much. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?” He huffed to himself as he shakily made his way to Gryffindor tower. He held his hand to his chest the whole way, heaving as if he was close to throwing up – he wasn’t fully convinced he that wouldn’t. 

As soon as he walked into (stumbled into) his dorm he flung the window open and shoved his head (most of his torso) out of the window – hungry for fresh air. The change in temperature and slight breeze did calm him slightly, but now he could hear Moony with renewed fervor. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. He seemed to be whimpering morosely. 

“She’s not yours.” Remus grumbled. That seemed to aggravate Moony somewhat, as well as piss himself off for talking aloud to...well...himself, sort of? 

He hated this. 

Remus sat half out the window drinking water and chain-smoking until his roommates returned from their final class. 

“What the fuck happened to you, Moons?” Sirius asked as he threw his book bag onto his bed before beginning to strip out of his uniform.

“Fucked if I know.” He grumbled, throwing the butt of his cigarette out the window. 

“You feelin’ alright?” James asked, brows furrowed as if Remus was a particularly difficult arithmancy problem.

“I think it’s quite clear that I’m not.” He spat as he pulled out another cigarette and lit it with the snap of his fingers.

“Blimey, Moony. Wasn’t the full moon last week?” Sirius asked incredulously.

It was too much, all of it: the nickname, the moon talk, their voices. The hearth in the room surged and then extinguished again; Remus was officially diminished to accidental magic like he was some kind of unruly toddler. 

“Shit, Remus. Relax, okay? We’re sorry.” James placated, watching his mate cautiously as Remus took some steadying breaths.

“What’s gotten into you mate?” Sirius asked quietly after Remus appeared to calm himself.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t feel like...myself.” He settled for, trying to drown out Moony’s pathetically forlorn howling in the back of his mind. 

“Alright.” James said. “That’s alright.” 

Remus wanted to vomit. Is that not what you had just said to him a few hours ago?

 “Do you need to go to see Pomfrey?” Peter asked.

“No.” Maybe.

“Alright, well we’ll bring you something up for dinner.” He offered with a smile. Remus felt like he should return the smile, but he couldn’t bring himself to try. 

Remus did eventually go to see Madame Pomfrey, though he kept the full extent of his current predicament to himself. He trudged through the halls, hating the fact that Moony seemed to pick up on your scent, signifying you had been down this hall yourself at some point during the day. 

Must go. Must go. Must go. Moony begged.

Go to Madame Pomfrey and then to bed. Remus mentally berated the wolf - the wolf growled in discontent. Remus was becoming increasingly worried about what he’d be like near the full when Moony was closer to the forefront of Remus’ control. 

Remus claimed nerves and a migraine as the cause of his request for sleeping draught for the night. The matron narrowed her eyes at Remus, clearly aware the boy wasn’t being entirely honest, but acquiesced to his request nonetheless. 

Remus supposed he probably should have requested a dreamless sleep potion instead.

His dreams were littered with images of you. Some were lovely – you and him walking hand-in-hand through bookstores and flower shops, sharing milkshakes and ice cream, snuggling up near the fire, as well as some...steamier dreams. But they were always chased away by horrible ones – you being chased by The Wolf, you finding out about him and running away terrified, you being bitten, you being killed. And those were always followed by his friends becoming disgusted with him, abandoning him, him ending up in Azkaban.

They made him sick.

Literally made him sick; he woke up with a start and bodied James on his way to the bathroom to eject last night’s supper out of his system. 

“Moons, what’s going on mate?” James asked quietly, clearly having been getting ready for a run before he was bulldozed by his mate, as Remus moved to the sink and readied his toothbrush.

“Please don’t call me that.” Remus moaned.

James seemed to consider him for a few moments before he spoke again.

“Is Moo- is the wolf giving you problems?” He corrected at the glare he was shot by Remus.

Remus sighed and nodded his head.

“Can’t be moon sickness? You’ve got three weeks.”

Remus finished brushing his teeth and rinsed his mouth out before turning to look at James.

“I don’t know. I think...” but he didn’t know how to finish his sentence. How did he explain that Moony has apparently become obsessed with and hyper-fixated on one of James’ best friends and was actively campaigning to have Remus throne into the psych ward at St. Mungo’s? “When you guys were researching on how to become animagi, you were first doing research on werewolves, right?” 

James responded by nodding his head in the positive.

“What’d you find? On werewolves, I mean.” Remus asked.

James grimaced. “Next to nothing, really; we found books and books full of anti-werewolf propaganda before we found anything even remotely helpful.”

“What book was it? The helpful one.”

“There was one line in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that said werewolves solely target human prey and are less interested in other animals as opposed to ‘true’ wolves.” James said.

Remus sighed and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“What’s going on?” James tried again. 

Remus just shook his head at this friend. “I don’t know yet, I’ll see what I find.”

“You don’t have to do this alone; you know? You’ve got us here.” James said as he followed Remus out of the bathroom.

“I know Prongs. I’ll let you know if I need anything.” Remus said with a tired smile. He was lucky, really, he knew that. He had wonderful friends – he’d do anything to keep them.

Which just meant keeping Moony away from you. 

Unfortunately for Remus, James had been right; the only useful information he could find in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that a) he didn’t already know or b) wasn't prejudiced or incorrect was the line James had referenced. 

“The main difference is in the way they behave; a werewolf is very aggressive in comparison to a true-wolf; they prefer and target human prey, seemingly uninterested in other animals. Though some rumours claim that werewolves will create bonds with animals and other wolves: ‘were’ or ‘true’.”

Remus was ready to give up when he noticed a footnote at the bottom of the page: 

(22) From an unknown author’s first-hand account of lycanthropy in Hairy Snout, Human Heart: 1737. 

He looked through the works cited section of the text and found the book, which appeared to be an autobiography of an unnamed wizard afflicted with lycanthropy from the 18th century. Remus knew the chances of him finding that book in the Hogwarts library were slim to none. Now I’ll have to wait until the next Hogsmeade weekend to try Tomes & Scrolls. 

Remus (unwillingly) learned a lot about you as he (impatiently) awaited for the next Hogsmeade weekend. 

You had a single dimple on your left cheek that only ever appeared when you smiled brightly. Granted, since you were generally soft around all of your edges, it didn’t appear too often. But it was almost guaranteed to make at least one appearance during every one of your interactions with James.

He hated the both of you. 

You hummed. A lot. Sometimes to the tunes of songs Remus could recognize, sometimes to tunes he was sure you’ve made up. It was always quiet humming, and only ever when you were focused intently on a task. It sounded lovely and was almost always accompanied by your tongue poking out slightly between your lips. 

He hated it. 

You always had some piece of nature on your person. Either grass from having been sat on the grounds, dirt on your hands from your time in the greenhouses, a flower tucked into a pocket or – God forbid – your hair. It was sort of adorable.

He hated that even more.

You made a soft tingling or jingling sound as you walked and moved on account of the many beaded bracelets decorating your wrists. It wasn’t just the sound of the jewelry – because Sirius was similar with his many pieces of silver jewelry decorating his person – but the sound was distinctly yours. And Remus Moony seemed to be able to pick it up from yards away. 

It was awful.

You also smelled heavenly. You were lavender blowing in the sea breeze, eucalyptus in a steamy shower, and the fresh grass you seemed to drag in every time you stepped outside. There was also something about you that smelled so distinctly you that drove him mad. He could pick up your scent anywhere.

And that was the worst part.

You were everywhere.

He’d been actively avoiding you since that fateful day in potions, and he still couldn’t escape you. Even if he couldn’t see you, he could hear you and your damned jingles or gentle giggles at something James said to you. And even if you weren’t there, he could still smell that you had been, and then he’d be stuck with Moony’s incessant whining for the rest of the day that they’d ‘just missed you’.

Remus hated it. He hated you for existing. He hated James for befriending you. But he mostly hated himself.

He hated that he got so angry about this; he hated that part of him blamed you for the horrible crime of having been born and that another part of him blamed James for the equally horrible crime of being kind.

He was the problem - Remus and his damned affliction. He just didn’t understand what Moony’s issue was; Remus (and Moony) had met many people throughout his life – Moony even had his own pack, for god’s sake! – what was so special about you to bring about this nonsense?

You seemed either completely unaware or completely unafflicted by Remus’ sudden coldness to you. There were times he’d stopped speaking midsentence when you’d show up or he would out-and-out walk away. James had clearly been annoyed with him about it, but you were still never anything but kind towards him. He was simultaneously grateful to you for it and peeved you were giving him more reasons to like you. 

James - still being slightly miffed with his mate for his abruptness towards you – was more than happy to leave him to search Tomes & Scrolls whilst he and Sirius and Peter went to The Three Broomsticks without him. Sirius shot him a confused look while Peter smiled at him sympathetically as they hobbled off after James.

They didn’t have the book he was looking for, but they were able to order it via owl and advised him they’d have it delivered straight to Hogwarts for him. 

Reluctantly resigning to his fate that he’d have to wait even longer to find answers, he exited the shop when he slammed into something with a solid oof.

He, being the lanky, larger-than-he-looks werewolf that he was, was able to shake off the collision with little-to-no effort.

You, on the other hand.

You.

Moony started howling in horror when Remus saw you leaning up onto your elbows from the cold cobblestoned road that Remus himself just knocked you into. 

“Oh, shit Y/N, are you alright?” He breathed as he hastily reached out his hand to help you up.

Big mistake.

Moony stopped howling and started nearly singing with joy when your skin met his. Prepared for the burning/cold/pain/joy/fear he experienced last time you made contact with him; he was surprised when he only felt peace wash through his person.

Time seemed to slow as you used his support to stand back up again and offer him a breezy smile. 

“I’m terribly sorry about that, Remus. Are you alright?” You asked as if you had just bodied him into the ground.

“I – uh, yes. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” He asked as he shook his head in confusion.

“Oh, I’m alright. I’m no stranger to spending time on the ground – I’m really quite clumsy you know.” You explained solemnly. He breathed a small laugh at your self-degradation. 

“Well, it likely doesn’t help to have a big oaf act as a brick wall when you’re only trying to shop.”

You smiled so sweetly that Remus, the damn sod, couldn’t help but return it. Lo-and-behold, your dimple made an appearance. Moony (and Remus, reluctantly) relished in the fact that he was the one to elicit that wide a smile from you. 

“That’s alright Remus. If you hadn’t, I might not have had a chance to apologize to you.”

Remus’ heart went to exit through his feet.

“Apologize? To me?” he asked. 

You nodded. “I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

It was weird that Remus could feel his heart crack painfully since it had already exited his body – but it stung anyway.

“You – you’re not... you haven’t done anything, Dove.” He said as he wiped a hand down his face, the pet-name slipping from his lips without his consent. “It’s me. I promise. I’m a freak.”

You offered him a simple smile, though your eyes seemed to ooze sympathy. “I’ve been told I’m quite odd myself.”

Remus chuckled. “Who told you that? Tell them I want to talk.”

You seemed slightly confused but laughed at his response nonetheless. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to figure out how to end this interaction while also mourning the coming loss of it. “Sorry for knocking you over, Y/N.” He offered quietly as he moved to walk away.

“Thank you for helping me up, Remus.” You responded with a smile as you entered Tomes & Scrolls. 

Moony whined at his loss of your company.

Remus whined at Moony’s input.  

True to the clerk’s word, a package arrived for Remus that week over breakfast in the Great Hall.

“What? Don’t you have enough books already, Moons?” Sirius asked with a smirk as he shovelled another spoon of cereal into his mouth. Remus responded with a (loving) two-fingered salute.

Remus had somewhat relaxed since your last encounter – there was no sense in punishing himself or you for Moony’s erratic behaviour, and he was sure he’d been driving his friends barmy with his mood swings. There was nothing for him to do except wait for more answers. And said answers were just delivered to him via owl.

“What are you reading now?” Peter asked as he tried to peer at Remus’ new book.

“It’s not a novel, Wormy. This is research.” He corrected.

“Gonna find out why you’re such a wanker?” Sirius snarked as he dodged a piece of bacon Remus threw at him.

“Okay, well, don’t waste food.” Peter chided quietly, looking disturbingly close to picking up said bacon from the ground. 

“Hanging out with the lot of you seems to have finally done me in, Pads.” Remus snarked back as he vanished the piece of bacon vexing Peter. 

James nodded solemnly. “Fair enough, honestly.” 

Remus quickly tucked his new book into his bag before moving to stand.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked as he looked at Remus with ill-hidden concern.

“To the library. Gonna do some research.” He answered plainly as he patted his book bag.

“Rem,” James called out to him, causing him to pause his retreat and turn to him. “you don’t have to do this alone, right?” he continued more quietly. 

Remus offered him a grateful smile. “I know Prongs, I’ll get back to you with my findings.”

Remus did noy know how he was going to report his findings back to his friends. This can’t have been it, can it? This isn’t what’s plaguing Remus? This can’t be real... There must be more...missing pages...

“...another version of lunar magic I’ve discovered in my travels - though extremely uncommon - is what some have called a ‘mating spark’. Along with the powerful lunar magic that drives the full-moon transformations and the surge of power it provides magical beings (wizards, witches, wix), there appears to be ‘soulmate’ magic involved with lycanthropy. Long been reduced to myth and lore within wizarding society, it appears the magic of soulmates may in fact be leftover knowledge from werewolf folktales.  “The initial ‘spark’ is reported to be painful and distressing. After the initial connection is made, the wolf will become fixated on their mate. The lycanthrope may experience longing, feelings of discomfort when apart and heightened senses surrounding their mate. It has been told to me that feelings of devotion towards the wolf’s mate does not go away, regardless of whether the lycanthrope accepts the bond or not.”

“Fuck.” Remus breathed as he dropped the book onto the table with a thud.

Mine. Moony huffed in response, as if wagging his tail singing ‘I told you so’.

This just won’t do. 

Continue to chapter three here.

Taglist: @hanniejji @y0urm0m12 @c0nsc10usworld @aphrcdites @starsval @thepunisherfrankcastle @anuncalledbridge @the-maniac-fly @unstablereader @rai-strangebr @sherry-needs-therapy, @klazina-couch-potato @cancelledkaley @fandom-crashlanding @ttulipwritezz @boo8008 

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #werewolf mcswearwolf #werewolf soulmate #soulmate au #hp marauders #remus lupin ficlet #remus lupin blurb #werewolf #the lupins #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #lily evans #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #gryffindor #slytherin #potions class #hogwarts #whimsical!reader

[janaispunk]

nights are so starry, blood moonlit

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: ~1.4k

summary: Javi and you are neighbors. And friends with benefits, in a way. Things become… heated.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), smoking, mention of alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, Javi pulls reader’s hair, dom!Javi, sub!reader, unprotected p in v (it’s never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), rough sex, dirty talk, Javi is a menace, a hint of angst and feelings because it’s me and if they’re not fucking while denying their feelings it’s not my fic okay

a/n: written for @iamasaddie’s moodboard writing challenge that was SO fun, thank you aly <3 this literally poured out of me, i wish writing would always feel like this 🫠

beautiful moodboards by @hellishjoel 🫶🏻

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates!

It’s the hottest day since you moved to Colombia, and probably the hottest that you’ve ever felt in your life. Sweat is all over your skin, pooling on your spine at the small of your back and making your dress stick to your damp body.

You groan as you open the door to your flat, the still air inside the small space somehow even more suffocating than you felt outside. You kick off your shoes and walk over to the fridge, letting the coolness wash over you for a few seconds while you just stand in front of the open door, your eyes almost slipping closed at the sudden reprieve from the sweltering heat. With a sigh you eventually grab a water and reluctantly shut the door again, pressing the cold bottle against your neck as you step out onto your tiny excuse of a balcony, hoping to catch at least the smallest bit of a breeze.

It’s just as hot outside and you flop down on the single plastic chair that you have and fumble for a cigarette, when you notice your neighbor on the balcony next to you. Javi looks as gorgeous as always, as you begrudgingly have to admit to yourself. While you’re sure that you look like you’re on the verge of a heat stroke, his shirt clings to his body in a way that makes your mouth run dry. As always he has one too many buttons undone and the perspiration on his chest has you dreaming of licking the sweat off his skin. He catches your stare and quirks an eyebrow at you, an amused smirk playing around his lip.

“You’re home early,” he drawls, leaning back against the railing.

“So are you,” you note, raising an eyebrow in return. “Slow day at the office?”

He closes his eyes for a moment. “Quite the opposite.” His scowl makes it clear that he doesn’t want any follow up questions and you shrug, busying yourself with unscrewing your water bottle instead.

A moment of silence passes between you before he raises his voice again.

“You free tonight?”

It’s a question that you’ve heard many times before, or some variation of it. You’re not a thing, Javi and you, not really. It’s just nice, to have a little company sometimes, in a city where, after months of staying here, you still feel like you barely know anyone. It’s fun. Stress relief. No strings attached.

You want to protest at first, thinking about how it’s about a thousand degrees, how you already feel the sweat on your skin again and you’re not even moving. But then you picture another lonely evening in your apartment, another bottle of wine drank in solitude while watching some crap on your small TV.

You look up at him through your eyelashes, mirroring his smirk from earlier.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Now you’re bent over the back of his couch, his cock roughly pounding into you as your skin feels sticky against the leather, moans falling from your lips with every thrust.

His fingers are digging into your hips and he’s pulling you against his body relentlessly, the intensity of his thrusts never faltering. His lips had been on yours as soon as he pulled his door open, pressing you against the wall and hands grabbing at your ass beneath your dress. You had basically thrown yourself at him, the rough way he handled your body only adding to the fire that was already burning through your veins and had wetness pooling between your legs.

He had skimmed over your underwear with his fingers and pulled back when your hips bucked against his touch, a chuckle rumbling in his throat.

“Missed me that much?” he had grinned in that smug way of his that made you want to roll your eyes.

“No,” you had grumbled, somewhat unconvincingly, threading your fingers through the dark hair at his neck and slotting your lips over his again, the coarse hair of his mustache scratching against your face and his tongue in your mouth until all that mattered to you was feeling him closer, feeling all of him.

He had taken you right there, with your panties pushed to the side and the neckline of your dress pulled down to reveal your tits to him. He had mouthed at the sensitive flesh while his cock plunged into your pussy, stretching your walls, making you whimper at all the sensations that washed over your body.

You were close to the edge when his movements slowed down, his breathless pants hitting your damp and heated skin. Your eyes had widened in mild surprise, taking in his flushed features, his hair turned into a sweaty mess by your hands.

“Need a break?” you had teased. “You’re losing your touch, Peña.”

You could almost see the way his eyes turned darker and his features hardened before he slid out of you and yanked you away from the wall, walking you into his living room.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, his cock hitting you from behind, reaching so deep inside of you that every thrust makes you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Fuck! Javi, please,” you manage to whine as your breath is repeatedly punched out of your lungs. You can already feel your orgasm, it’s so close, you can almost taste it on your tongue, a band waiting to snap.

“Losing my touch, huh?” he growls from behind you, reaching up to grab a fist of your hair, pulling you upwards while his other hand finds your tit again and pinches your nipple. His grunts in your ear drive you insane with want for him.

“N-no, I’m sorry, fuck-”

The different angle and the quick shot of pain from your breast set your body on fire and you clamp down hard around him as your orgasm breaks free and waves of pleasure crash over you. You think that you’re shaking in his hold, babbling an incoherent string of thank yous and his name while he fucks you through your high, never relenting in his thrusts, even when your orgasm subsides and you’re twitching away from the overstimulation.

“You’re gonna give me another one,” he demands, losing the grip on your hair and pushing your body forward again.

“Javi, I can’t, please,” you try to protest, but he sneaks a hand between your legs, slides through the slippery wetness and finds a home on your clit, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive spot. A shudder runs through you at the sensation.

“You want me to stop?” he asks, his tone making it abundantly clear that he already knows the answer.

“N-no,” you admit, your hips pushing back against his again, your body desperate for more.

“Then quit your whining and do as I said.” His voice is raspy; you know him well enough, have fucked him often enough to know that he’s close. His fingers on your clit speed up. “Give me another one.”

Before Javi, you wouldn’t have thought it possible to come that quickly twice in a row, but you’ve accepted some time ago that he has a power over your body that you’ll never understand.

It feels like only seconds until the sensation of his cock dragging through your pussy and his fingers on your clit build up again and bring you to your peak once more. You pulse around him, hoarse moans leaving your mouth while his hips still and he spills himself deep inside of you, his moans mixing with yours.

He pulls out gently and helps you into a standing position, leading you to sit on his couch and cleaning you up quickly.

You never linger after your visits to his place, always quick to slip back over to yours. It’s too much intimacy, too raw, just- too much.

It’s what you do now, heaving a sigh as you lean back against your closed door. You splash water on your face, trying to cool your body down. You’re gonna need another shower, feeling like you’re drenched in sweat, but first, another cigarette.

When you step out onto your balcony for the second time that day, Javi is already there on his side, still shirtless, blowing smoke into the dark night. You sit down on your chair and prop your feet up on the railing, the one that he’s leaning his back against, eyeing you.

Neither of you talk, but it’s nice, you think, not being so alone.

thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment, it always makes my day <3

#✏️ game #janas fics #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier pena one shot #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal characters

[misskingshit]

𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘵 summary: where he has an interest in a certain pop singer, and he doesn't try to hide it. note: believe me or not i’ve been listening hip hop since Im like 15 y/o, soooo why not do an M&M’s fic?? Let me know if u want part 2! xoxo

The lyrics of Mr Eminem's new song being mostly about you? That was something you definitely didn't expect.

I get so weak on my knees

Lose all control

Damn, her silhouette

So hot

Fuck bein’ a gentleman

I'm going to fuck her instead

The red carpet at the Grammys has always been a dream for you, you had already won a couple of awards, today... you were excited to be the presenter of one of them.

Best Rap Album.

To say you were excited is an understatement.

You've loved this genre of music since you were a teenager, Tupac, Fifty, Snoop...to name the most classics.

The camera flashes were the only thing you saw, accompanied by many voices that stunned your ears just by hearing your name.

"Y/N! over here!" A reporter called you, without hesitation, you approached.

"Hey how are you?" you asked with a big smile.

"Incredible! How are you? I imagine you're very excited for tonight" he smiles.

"Don't even mention it! I can't wait to call the winner on stage!"

"Do you think Eminem is nominated? He's been on everyone's mouth lately with his latest song..."

Here we go.

"Yeah... well, I'm sure he'll be nominated, I mean, he's fucking Eminem, it would be like a sin if he wasn't, right?" You laughed a little awkwardly.

"What do you think about his last song, about his comments towards you? 50% of people are upset calling Eminem a degenerate..." you didn't let him finish speaking.

"Well...I really like him, I mean, I've always been his fan and it's an honor to be named in one of his songs. Plus I also think that...we all know how he's like, if you don't like his way to be, to think, to speak, the lyrics of his songs, just don't listen to it and that's it, problem solved, I don’t see the point in hating so much on something you can just...ignore" you laugh looking at the camera "Just take things more lightly, not everything is fighting and bad intentions."

You finished your conversation with said reporter and simply headed to your designated seat.

On the other hand, a certain blonde boy was also being attacked with questions regarding his controversial lyrics.

"She's here? Shit, I want to see her," the blonde rapper said, showing a small, very small, smile, turning his head around with the intention of catching some sign of the hot pop singer, you.

"Yes! In fact she will be the one to present the award for best rap album!"

"No shit! Damn man she's here" Em turned around and said to his best friend, Proof.

In a few minutes everyone finished settling into their seats and you both were surprised when you looked at each other, just a few seats away.

You were five seats to the right and three to the back, so you caught him every time he turned his head back a little to look and smile at you.

Until, soon...your moment had arrived, you got up from your seat to head backstage.

By the way, when you walked past the rapper, he didn't try to hide the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off you for even a second.

"And the Grammy goes to..." you created some tension "EMINEN!" You blurted out the name more excited than you should have.

The rapper's reaction might not have been very expressive normally, but he couldn't contain his smile when he knew who would be the one giving to him his award. The rapper and his friends got on stage and it was inevitable that you felt nervous as you watched him walk towards you, with a playful look, as if he knew what he generated in you.

"Congratulations," you whispered when he was close enough to you, taking the grammy as you felt the soft brush of his fingers against yours, he did it on purpose.

You didn't expect him to give you a hug.

"That's all I get?" He whispered back to you, keeping your faces close and your noses touching, his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him as if he didn't want to move away from you.

A great bustle from the public was heard, and it took them both out of the small cloud in which they were.

This was definitely going to stir the waters.

You both walked away, while you greeted and congratulated the rest of his friends (Proof winking at you in the process).

"Wow, shit, this is crazy, thank you so much to everyone who made the production of this album possible, Dr Dre, who always had my back, I will be forever grateful...and my god, damn, thanks to whoever the fuck is that put this beauty in that dress..." he turned to look at you and winked "Y/N Y/L/N ladies and gentlemen, the source of my inspiration for Heat Seeker"

Obviously, you blushed.

The entire audience was applauding, probably already starting to gossip among themselves about the little show between you and Eminem.

Like a gentleman he offered you his hand as he watched you walk down the steps of the stage with great caution. "Thank you," you whispered. “Any time” he smiles at you.

´Til the end of the awards you continued to connect glances from time to time, you also noticed how his friends bothered him every time he turned his head to look at you.

"Hey, Y/N! wait!" listen to yourself behind your back. "Hey," you looked at him softly, "whats up?" He shook his head quickly. "I just wanted to…I mean, normally I wouldn't give a shit, but, I wanted to make sure that the song didn't offend you, it wasn't to upset you…" You interrupted his attempt to apologies "Don't worry, I understand it was just the song, I didn't take it personally, actually, I loved it" you laughed. "You did? I'm glad you're not like the rest and laugh instead of being offended." His attempt to hide his smile failed completely.

It just slips away from him.

Just with you.

A few seconds of silence took over the situation, though it wasn't uncomfortable, your eyes connected and you didn't seem to realize that you had been staring at each other. "Uhm, I was about to go to my hotel," you pointed behind you, "I was gonna change for the afterparty."

"Can I go with you?" He asked you, but before you processed the fact that he wanted to go with you to your hotel, he interrupted your thoughts "I mean, just so then we can go to the party together, if you want" he scratched the back of his neck.

You didn't even need to think about it "Yeah, I would like that" you smiled.

The two of you walked together towards your limo, captured by several cameras, so neither of you doubted that tomorrow you would wake up to a bunch of articles about how Eminem and Y/N left the Grammy's together. But none of you care about it.

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem fluff #marshall mathers fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers imagine #eminem fanfiction #marshall mathers fanfiction #fluff #shay's requests

[polaroidbills]

enhypen and their boyfriend types

genre/cw: bf!enhypen x fem!reader, fluff, like mega mega fluff, kissing & hugging, enhypen being out of their mind in love with you, literally so cutie patootie.

a/n: i thought of this at like 2am so be ready. i also tried a new layout for my work. if you want more content like this lmk!

heeseung 희승

heeseung is the type to never stop admiring you. you're on his mind 24/7. when you're next to him, he'd be staring at you the whole time. especially your lips. when you're talking, you always notice his eyes go down and come up, obviously looking at your lips. "if you wanna kiss me, just do it hee." even in a crowd full of people, he only has eyes for you. heeseung would even stare at the photo of you on the back of his phone. and sometimes he'll even space out thinking of you. "heeseung! dude, are you even listening?"

jay 제이

jay is the type to only let himself do all the work. like cleaning, washing dishes, cooking, and the laundry. he will absolutely not let you do anything of the sort, even if you try to. for example, one time you got up to start washing the dishes after dinner. but he literally sprinted towards the dirty dishes in the sink and started scrubbing. he refuses to let you do any work, because it's one of his ways of showing love.

jake 제이크

jake is the type to talk about you non-stop to his friends. he always brags about how beautiful and kind you are. and all the small details and habits you have. he will absolutely be kicking his feet, giggling, talking to heeseung and sunghoon about how you always pull your sleeve over your hands, creating paw sleeves. "she's just so cute and perfect!" it's to the point where his friends just ignore it or get annoyed at how much he talks about you. but he he can't control it. it's a habit now.

sunghoon 성훈 

sunghoon is the type to always be texting you when he isn't with you. he never wants to stop talking to you, so when he isn't with you, he chooses texting or calling or even facetiming. instead of it being annoying, it's actually very cute. he would say things like "schedule is so boring, i'm soo excited to see you soon." or "i miss you soo much baby." and i mean 24/7. half of the time he isn't with you, he's looking down at his phone, texting you.

sunoo 선우

sunoo is the type to always know when you aren't feeling comfortable or happy. he instantly knows when you feel down or not yourself. and he will do anything in his power to fix it. like when you embarrassed yourself in front of other people amd you felt really stupid. he tried to switch the topic of the conversation and told you that you weren't stupid after. or when you got a paper cut, he bandaged it up, gave you a million kisses, and watched your favourite movie. he just knows you too well.

jungwon 정원

jungwon is the type to be shy about pda, but will always, privately, show his affection in hugs, kisses, and cuddles. in public, the most he will do is hold your hand or give you a peck on the cheek. but when your at home or alone with him, he will never stop hugging or kissing you. he's always leaning on you or cudding you. but he especially gets shy when his friends tease him about you. if he's with you, he'll snuggle his head into your shoulder when he's embarrassed or shy. you find it cute how shy he is in public and he always apologizes for it because he feels that he doesn't show enough love in public. so he makes up for it privately.

niki 니키

niki, similar to sunghoon, is the type to always want to be with you, but it's 100% worse. like i mean he's with you at ALL times. he's so clingy to the point where he's your shadow. wherever you go, he goes. it's to the point where you would even need to go to the bathroom, but he also wants to come with you and accompany you. obviously you refuse. but when you open the door to get out, he's standing right there, right in front of the door, all pouty and waiting for you. he's just so cute.

@polaroidbills please DO NOT copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my work.

#spotify #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #kpop boys #polaroidbills #enhypen jake #enhypen jungwon #enhypen jay #enhypen sunoo #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen niki #kpop #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x engene #enhypen x y/n #enhypen hyung line #enhypen maknae line #1 800 143 #allisocks

[little-worm-grant]

Spicy Marc: Need You

Marc Spector x You (Fem!Reader)

662 words / 18+ only, no minors

Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: What if Marc had you pinned down and could do whatever he wanted? He's obsessed with you and seems to have only one goal on his mind; getting you off.

Notes: It's just smut to feed the gremlins - it's me, am gremlins.

Warnings: Soft dom Marc kind of, established relationship, teasing, marking, hair pulling, fluff/praise, masturbation, vaginal fingering, edging, orgasm delay.

“You looked like this in a dream I once had. You were beautiful in that too.”

“You’re not the only one that’s dreamed about this.”

You breathe back raggedly. Laid back with him holding you down. His hand pressing into yours.

“Oh?” he lit up. A thrill in knowing he was on your mind. He looked like he wanted to ask about it. He'd need to hear that story some other time. His other hand already sliding down into your underwear as a reward.

Maybe that’s why he left some marks along your neck. Liked the way you squirmed against his thigh between your legs. Liked the way you reacted to him holding your jaw. Liked knowing you were his. You could have playfully swatted him away at any point, but you didn’t. Trusted him to take care of you like he’d promised.

His fingers felt nice stroking over your fluttering cunt, finding them coated in your slick in no time at all. It made his mouth water and dry all at the same time. Your other hand squeezed his as he held it. Little moments of affection. Fingers entwined, squeezing back. Letting you know he was right there with you. Keeping you close to him.

He moved his thumb in a slow back-and-forth motion experimentally over your clit. Enjoying the way your hips rocked to chase the friction. Deep in your heat his middle finger felt the way you twitched and throbbed. Almost begging for more. Crawling up to that cascading bliss.

Your hand found its way into his hair. Tugging him down towards you. Marc hissed a groan and chuckled breathily. You buried your face into his shoulder. Marc tilted his head to press the side of his head into yours. All the moans and whimpers you tried to muffle were music to his ears.

He introduced a second finger to stroke you from the inside out. Thumb picking up pace to see your reaction. Breathing stuttering and his rhythm stumbling when he felt your hand stroke up against his tented boxers. His hand squeezed against yours. Slowing his rhythm so he could concentrate on bringing his head back to look at you. Your stammered words. His name. Almost like a prayer. He was thinking the same thing about your name. Marc could drown in that look you gave him.

“Yeah. That’s it. It's- fuck.” His brain frazzled out as he searched for the words to tell you how perfect this was. Giving up and dipping in to kiss you instead.

“I’m all yours, baby.”

Keeping his mouth pressed on yours. Wanting to swallow any noises you made. His fingers picked the pace up again. Finding that rhythm that you seemed to love. His own body betrayed him with his hips rolling to push himself into your hand. Desperate for any contact you’d give him. A groan against your needy little moans.

He whispered against your lips.

“Getting closer hm? I can tell. Soon. You have no idea how good you feel. Hold it for me.”

He talked you through it. Leaning back to try and read your face when it was too much. Memorizing this moment of you fucking yourself on his fingers.

"Look at you," He'd coo. "Such a good girl." He'd smirk watching you tremble. He’d gently thrust with his wrist and rocked his thumb over your swollen clit in quick succession. His hand held yours tight, grounding you like it was your only lifeline.

“You’re doing so good. I got you. You can let go.”

His hand kept repeating the same motions waiting to feel you lose control of your body. Slowing down the pace and easing up completely off your clit. He peppered more kisses against your lips as you danced somewhere on the moon. Fingers coming up to his lips to clean and give you a moment to recover. The night wasn't over yet for you. Far from it. Marc was just getting started.

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