#even though it feels like my heart is being wrenched out

[eyluvu]

Listening to fix you and SOBBING. thanks tom hiddleston😭😭

#“if you never try you'll never know just what you're worth” #“when you lose something you can't replace” #“when you love someone but it goes to waste” #“high up above or down below- when you're too in love to let it go- but if you never try you'll never know- JUST WHAT YOURE WORTH.” #“and I will try to fix you.” #MY HESRT #lokius #loki #loki x mobius #mobius m mobius #loki season 2 #mobius #loki series #tom hiddleston #owen wilson #fix you #coldplay #i always loved this song and now its even better #even though it feels like my heart is being wrenched out

[comixandco]

i’m just

there must be so many gaps in jieum’s memory

she was the girl of many trades but can she remember how she learnt any of those skills? No they were all from her past lives so they’re gone. Can she remember leaving her neglectful family to live with ae-gyeong? No because she was from a past life, so where does ji-eum think she grew up? She remembers being good at school and her awards but not if anybody was there in the audience for her. She says in her phone call to her superior that she remembers switching departments before, but she doesn’t remember working in the hotel. She cooks meals the exact way as ae-gyeong taught her and she taught ae-gyeong, but she doesn’t remember having learnt them. if she can’t remember anything to do with her past lives, she wouldn’t be able to remember anything that had happened in the past few months the drama is set over.

that must be such an odd and confusing existence, to only remember small dots and flashes of your life, and a giant gap in recent memory, and she doesn’t even seem to be affected by it either? Did she go to the hospital after coming to consciousness standing on a bridge with no idea how she got there? Did they run tests on her brain to see if something had gone wrong? Does she think she suffered a mental breakdown?

What is going on in ji-eum’s brain in those final scenes i want to dissect her thoughts like a grape

#see you in my 19th life #did she move back into her old job on the suggestion of a therapist who is helping her with her sudden memory loss? #she was living with ae-gyeong where did she think she lived? #does she have monthly visits to a group of doctors that are fascinated by her oddly specific memory loss? #in those first few days after losing all her memories. did people she knew try to approach her and she freaked? #if she’d gone to the hospital ae-gyeong would be her emergency contact. maybe it just slipped through the cracks because she was also in #hospital recovering from surgery at the time. #there is a large set of contacts in ji-eum’s phone that she doesn’t recognise at all - not just numbers from her loved ones #but contacts for her job at the hotel as well and anybody she’d met during the show’s run #imagine with me if you will if there had been one final episode instead of those few scenes #ji-eum recovering from what she can only assume is some kind of mental breakdown from stress and her childhood #ae-gyeong coming to visit her in hospital and this deliciously heart-wrenching scene that mirrors ji-eum by her bedside when she was ill #and ji-eum doesn’t recognise her at all and only feels a base level of concern knowing ae-gyeong had surgery not long before #ae-gyeong promising to take care of ji-eum but turns her down because her head and heart hurt from being near her so she rents out an #apartment. she has no recollection of working at the hotel and seo-ha isn’t ready to see her yet it’s too soon so doyun has to handle her #transition back to the engineering track. and in her phone she deletes all the contacts she doesn’t know but when she looks at the photos #and icr if she took one with seo-ha but she must have but defo the one with her ae-gyeong and cho-won. she can’t bear to delete them #even though she doesn’t know them or remember why they were taking this photo. but bc it’s a romance she has to have a few photos of seo-ha #and she sort of ponders over them like. who are you. who were you to me. but it hurts her head so she puts down her phone #and there can be a bunch of times throughout the episode where she just misses him like. she’s asleep in hospital and he brings her flowers #and she wakes up just in time to see the back of his head leaving the room. she could visit ae-gyeong to try to rebuild this #parental relationship she doesn’t remember but has all the proof that this is the lady who raised her. and like in the show seo-ha could be #sat right behind her but he doesn’t interact with her directly they just do the napkin bit and then he leaves w/o looking at her #and the meet-up with cho-won could stay the same with the difference that ji-eum recognises her from their photo and says something like #’we know each other don’t we.’ and cho-won gets so excited and maybe even calls them sisters but then she realises what she’s doing and is #like. ‘that’s how it felt for me. we worked together just a few months ago. i’m cho-won’ and then ji-eum can do that #gorgeous reach for her memories from the show where she rolls the name around her mouth because it’s just so familiar #and ofc i’d change nothinf about the scene where she finally re-unites with seo-ha that was delicious af #but i feel like there were just too many gaps in her memories for it to have been smoothed over y’know? #disclaimer i read the webtoon first and loved it but think it had to change for the adaptation

[malleleothreesome]

Azul Ashengrotto x afab Reader - Aphrodisiac + Breeding

💜 summary: After an alchemy accident, you and Azul end up covered in an aphrodisiac potion ༶༶༶ 💜 warnings: afab reader, smut, LOTS OF BREEDING KINK, pregnancy mention, porn with plot??? ༶༶༶ 💜 word count: 8.4k words I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED ༶༶༶ 💜 song: Vapor - 5 Seconds of Summer "I wanna feel you in my veins I want to breathe you in like a vapor I want to be the one you remember I want to feel your love like the weather, all over me" ༶༶༶ 💜 inspired by: this ask thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

As a magicless human, Alchemy had always been your favorite class at Night Raven College. Despite lacking an innate aptitude for spell-casting, mixing and crafting potions was an artform that didn't require magic in order to bring spectacular effects into the world. Alchemy classes provided a refuge—a safe space with no barrier for entry where you could excel instead of feeling singled out for being an oddity in a sea of talented mages. You relished in the opportunity to learn about new components and elements, excitedly observing as volatile chemicals bubbled in heated pots to produce glowing, glittery pastes.

Much to your suspicion, Azul had always been particularly enthused to help you with potions, boasting how he was the most adept in the class due to his academic proficiencies, and that he was certain you'd find success with his aid. He took special interest in mentoring you, watching your delicate, nimble movements as you worked, walking you through procedures and detailed steps, and speaking knowledgeably about the ingredients in a tone that oozed expertise. His tutelage had helped you reach impressive grades on even the most challenging assignments. It wasn’t long before you found yourself spellbound by his charming intellect, deceivingly sweet demeanor, and the addictively intense gaze of his unique blue eyes.

There was always a subtle mischief hidden behind the smiling eyes and the easy charisma that suggested an ulterior motive lurking beneath his silver-tongue. Based on your observations of his interactions with other students, you assumed this was a ploy in hopes that if you had taste of the sweet, intoxicating elixir of power and success, you'd become desperate for more of his help, consequentially making you subservient and open to the idea of contracting yourself to him. In defiance of your paranoia that his motivations are not entirely altruistic, you did always feel an odd prickle in the air when he stood right behind you to monitor your actions. That sensation, a fiery buzz that hummed in your lower abdomen, always gave your heart flutters and kept you on edge as Azul's calm breaths ghosted against your hair and sent ripples of warm pleasure tingling through you. Your breath hitched in your throat as his large, gloved palms gently guided you through your motions, brushing over the bare skin on your knuckles or arms, leaving electric jolts where you felt his warmth. He smelled crisp like ocean breeze, an inviting fragrance that enveloped your mind and wrenched you out of reality and into his heady fantasy—a scene in which all you can taste are the thick, sweet notes of his dark intentions, and all you could do was choke on his cloying, dominating allure. He didn't ask permission to touch you or indicate an appropriate method to teach—no, his hands simply snaked around your waist and ran along your curves, slowly learning the feeling of your soft flesh through his gloves. Each time, you couldn't help but sink a little closer to his chest, instinctively chasing the seductive ambience radiating off of him, drowning in his captivating presence as though he was the tide pulling you under. There was no denying it—you wanted more of him.

Today's lab was no different, the air was tense and thick with charged attraction, filled with sexual tension so palpable it could be cut with a knife. The assignment was to experimentally combine various liquids, mixing and adjusting for better consistency, until you found a formula to concoct a viable, bountiful healing potion that would greatly ease the effects of injury. This assignment was a notoriously difficult, energy-draining procedure that required extreme vigilance to avoid an adverse chemical reaction that would result in a completely different type of potion, although Crewel didn’t elaborate on the exact details. After carefully pouring two compounds—one a milky white, and the other a vivid magenta—into a tall, cylindrical flask, Azul cautiously peered over your shoulder to check your concoction's progress as you stirred them. With one arm outstretched against the table to secure a good vantage point, he rested his other on your waist and leaned in closer as he studied the bubbling pink mixture. After adding an infusion of ground powder, a burst of sparkles clouded the interior of the flask, a telltale sign you were on the right track. This is the portion of the experiment where you needed to take extra caution to mix the elements together in perfect precision without faltering or taking your eyes away from your project, a delicate operation requiring the utmost concentration. Suddenly, Grim barges in and jumps on the lab station in excitement, yapping about how he wants to help, despite you and Azul explaining multiple times he has a proven history of destroying your projects.

The moment the little cat-monster attempts to extend his claws into your precious potion, Azul reacts automatically with surprising speed, his hands fly in a frenzy to scoop Grim away from your chemistry equipment. "Get off that this instant, Grim! You have no business here! Get your little paws out of that glassware this instant before you ruin another assignment! Do not interrupt us! Get away from there immediately!" Azul scolds him repeatedly while chasing him around the room, attempting to steer him to the door. "Why you foolish beast! You're far more of a liability than an asset! This experiment requires extreme care and concentration to avoid failure—a common result of your erratic, clumsy behavior!" His expression hardens with anger, eyebrows drawing into a line as Grim hisses defiantly. The little monster still hasn't relented, his hind legs clumsily scrabbling and slipping in Azul's grip as he tries desperately to cling onto the edge of the lab table, hoping for a quick paw-hold. A heavy, frustrated sigh escapes Azul's nostrils, his face morphing into one of desperation, pleading with the troublesome cat-creature to just leave you to focus your project in peace.

"How very annoying... To think he would willingly place himself in danger without even stopping to consider the consequences... what a foolish and irresponsible creature," he exhales irritably, struggling to wrestle Grim from his precarious position as his composure begins to slip, agitation creeping through his voice and shattering his typical polished and suave illusion of unflappable equanimity. He continues to scold Grim as he chases him around your station, gritting his teeth and losing his cool as the monster's cries of distress and denial ring through the entire room. Grim is an unrelenting little bastard who won't quit squirming. There isn't the slightest semblance of remorse or pity on his stupid, feline face, and Azul feels his resolve crack as he becomes utterly fed up with this spoiled brat's behavior. Grim continues to kick and howl his way through Azul's grip, determined to aid with your Alchemy project, but his clumsy movements start causing your potion to bubble and ripple in an unsettling manner. You shriek his name, begging him to just settle the hell down and be a team player.

It happens in a matter of seconds—a fizzling sound grabs your attention. You turn back around quickly and notice your reaction beginning to froth violently. Your eyes widen in horror and your mouth drops in disbelief. Azul notices your fear-wide eyes and immediately stops his futile efforts to reprimand Grim. In an instant, his gaze reflects the alarm in yours and the blood drains from his already pale cheeks. Grim runs out in a screaming huff as he exits in a frenzied flurry, knowing when to take a hint and make a clean getaway. At this point, the compound is pouring heavily from the top of the flask, spewing out onto the heating device and coating the table below. The chemical reaction is completely beyond your control now, its speed increasing exponentially, bubbling and exploding, kicking out thick, unmanageable clouds of murky pink and purple fumes. Within seconds, it covers the lab tables in an almost misty haze as you choke and sputter in a coughing fit, Azul gasping and choking right alongside you, panic flashing across his face. An eerie glow seeps through the thick liquid as a swirling mist appears from inside the glass. Without warning, it erupts directly toward the two of you before either of you have time to take cover—shattering the flask and showering the fronts of your faces and bodies in its noxious, intoxicating fluids. Both you and Azul choke out muffled yells and groans, the sticky, glittering mixture clinging to the fabric of your clothes and the exposed skin on your faces.

The next thing either of you register is Crewel's obnoxious bark as he spits out sharp commands to open the windows and clear out all the air from the room. Coughing, you gasp for fresh oxygen, suddenly becoming very aware of how fast your heart is racing. It thumps so hard and so forcefully inside of your ribcage that the noise reverberates loudly in your ears, overwhelming your senses. However, no amount of labored inhaling can free you from the toxic, vaporous gas; every molecule in your lungs has already been bombarded and completely overcome by the potion’s effects. As its intoxication takes hold of you, a wicked fever seems to roar within you, followed by a horribly slow heat that makes your limbs ache. Every orifice of your body is saturated by the miasma—liquid slips between your lips, gushing down the front of your body to coat your exposed neck and chest. You taste the surprisingly sweet potion on the inside of your mouth; its taste lingers sweet and tacky on the flat of your tongue, coating your throat. You'd panic that you just consumed some horrific cocktail with traces of corrosion or stomach-rotting acid, if it weren't for the fact that Crewel seems more frustrated than concerned for your well-being. Rather than damaging you, whatever substance was expelled seems to be having quite the opposite effect; you feel your body becoming more energetic, your head becoming lighter, and a bubbling rush of warmth seems to radiate all over from the inside out, changing your physiology into a fertile garden in need of sowing. Adrenaline rushes through you and awakens your basal instincts, forcing you to acknowledge every excruciating detail of your body in an erotic manner. Arousal slithers through your veins like venom, poisoning all remaining thoughts and rationality, as a throbbing, almost blinding wave of pleasure overtakes your body. You become intensely, achingly aware of your physical needs, and all those needs center upon an impassioned desire to be filled, stretched, and seeded full—the frantic urge to be bred nearly splits you in half and makes your lower belly cramp in a hot flash of want. For a second, you hear Azul stutter something to you, his voice wavering on the verge of cracking with the desire that the aphrodisiac had triggered. You lock eyes with Azul, pupils blown wide as lust makes his oceanic gaze shimmer. The front of his slacks have grown embarrassingly tight with the straining girth of his aroused cock. You meet his clouded eyes, almost embarrassed by your wanton thoughts and the desperate throbbing between your thighs.

It is only a split second of recognition, a blurry, sweaty haze of unfathomable passion, before your shared moment is interrupted. Crewel shouts at you to look him in the eyes, snapping you out of your sexual frenzy, even if only for a split second. He stares at you, his gray-streaked hair framing the contoured features of his face as he cocks an eyebrow. The elder gives your flushed skin and trembling body a once-over.

"Just as I thought. It's a dopamine-based aphrodisiac. At least nothing fatal or life threatening, but enough to send you both into a delirious, euphoric-fueled rut," he assesses calmly, unfazed. "What's more, the way the explosion altered the structure of the compound has made its properties even more potent and uncontrollable. In terms you incompetent pups will understand, we're past the stage of antidote or reprieve, and you both have mere moments before the hormones will reach maximum capacity and you two will need to find some private location to release the effects..." He trails off. From his expression, you can tell there is more he would like to add to the situation, yet a worrisome crinkle furrows his brow as his eyes remain on Azul, as though assessing whether the situation is really as under control as he wishes. "Both of you bad dogs listen carefully. Do not even dare to even breathe a word of what transpired here—you are to wait in isolation for five to eight hours until its effects wear off. Under no circumstances should you share physical contact with anyone else for the remainder of the day." He holds Azul's gaze longer than necessary, silently threatening him not to take advantage of this situation—but Azul seems far too caught up in the spell and too infatuated by the burning image of you, sweating, panting, and splayed before him.

"Should anyone at all realize that the two of you have taken any sort of love potion or been afflicted in this manner, it could create a massive scandal, and I'll punish you both so mercilessly for causing such an indiscretion, you'll be licking my boots in front of the entire school!" his deep voice booms in threat. "Have I made myself understood, dear pets?" Crewel snaps, the sting of his whip making both you and Azul wince and nod profusely. He leads you and Azul to the decontamination area of the lab, ushering you two into separate stalls so you can change into fresh, dry garments and wipe off the evidence of the explosion from the potion. When you both emerge, it takes Crewel less than a second to glance from the massive bulge straining against Azul's clothing, to where your heaving, quivering chest is spilling over the low neckline, your nipples hard and pressing obscenely through the thin fabric. He glares down his nose at the two of you in distaste.

"Five to eight hours," he hisses, eyes narrowing, almost sizing you and Azul up like he's waiting for one of you to give in to the pressure of the aphrodisiac. He throws open a back door, gesturing for you and Azul to disappear. Azul leaves first, a flushed, jumbled mess of conflicting emotions that are only intensified as he can feel every agonizing beat of his aroused heart pulse in the heat of his hard dick. You follow closely behind, but before you can cross the doorway, Crewel shoots his hand out to grip you by the upper arm, turning you to him as he towers over you, giving you an intense glare before sighing and pulling a small vial of bluish, iridescent potion from his bag and thrusting it into your hands.

"Since I know you won't be able to resist such a delectable temptation from that damn fishy bastard," his words drip with annoyance as he continues, "at least be safe, Pup. Go have a nice screw if that's what you really desire. The serum I just gave you is a contraceptive—just one sip and you will have full reproductive control, in case Azul isn't a decent man about his desires." You blink up at him in utter bewilderment. "Under no circumstances will I allow my star pupils to fall prey to the temptations and consequences of unprotected intimacy in the midst of this reckless hormone rush... I can't allow something like this to affect you or your ambitions. My students can only go to greater places." You feel his eyes burning with concern as he brushes your cheek, sending you a warning in his eyes and urging you to please think it through and consider it. "You are interested in Azul, are you not? I won't allow you to get involved in anything you don't consent to. If you don't feel safe, I can escort you straight to Ramshackle dorm and I will handle Ashengrotto myself." His stare, once cold and imposing, is now warm with protective care, as he looks you up and down with a gentle softness you didn't expect from your professor. The paternalistic expression on his face strikes your soul and pulls on your heartstrings a bit. After all, it's the type of support you feared was lost to you once you found yourself trapped in Twisted Wonderland with no hope of ever seeing your family again. With all the gentleness of a father, he squeezes your shoulder and gazes deeply into your eyes. You assure him that it's okay, you trust Azul. Nodding, your professor finally allows you passage out the door.

You had barely made it beyond the courtyard doors before Azul approached you with a sickly sweet, almost giddy look on his face. His steel-blue irises burned bright with anticipation, accompanied by a hint of something dark and salacious flickering in the shadows. The corners of his lips pulled taut, curling upward in a devious smile. A tremulous shudder passed through you and prickled up your spine at the thought of those hypnotizing eyes studying you while you lay enraptured beneath him, completely at his mercy. As he takes a few tentative steps toward you, his right hand glides and rests softly on your hip, making you gasp with surprise, your heartbeat fluttering and pounding deafeningly in your ears. Azul leans close to your ear, his breath coming out in hot, rapid pants, a carnal excitement that threatens to spill over and devour you whole. You swallow in nervous expectation, hardly daring to look into his lustful gaze. With his elegant index finger, he lifts your chin up and you are left gasping and flushed beneath him, lips parted to beg him for more as his gentle caress lingers. He flashes a devilishly handsome smile before tracing your lower lip with a seductive slowness. "Please, allow me to escort you back to Octavinelle where I can properly tend to you and your condition," the breathiness of his voice and his lack of composure cause your clit to throb, your inner walls pulsating, pleading to be stretched and ravaged. His lecherous advances and insinuations combined with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins is making you so aroused, even standing close to him is threatening to make you cum. The very fabric of his essence seems to burn a shade darker—there is a terrifying intensity to his ardent desire for you, yet also a rawness and exposure you hadn't seen on his usually suave and polished facade.

Your whole body flushes when your gaze lands upon the size of his aching erection, an impressive tent straining tightly against his immaculate slacks, begging for attention through the dark material of his trousers. There is a manic, primal gleam that's spreading rapidly across his entire visage; he looks rabid with uncontainable greed, and you shudder at the thought that Azul will use your body to satisfy his own dark and twisted curiosities. "Please... It's the least I could do. After all, our most unfortunate situation is all due to my own recklessness," Azul pleads. His tone of voice is unwaveringly convincing in its sweet charm, yet you cannot escape the licentious twinkle that betrays his intentions, eyes ablaze with passion and lips quivering at the thought of making you his forever.

"Please... Just let me serve you and tend to your every whim," he begs. Even though the tone of his voice suggests innocence, you're reminded once more that Azul Ashengrotto believes the true intent in a plea is only to benefit his own ambitions—how ironic, then, that you find yourself overwhelmed with the desire to listen to the velvety cadence of his whispered sweet-nothings until you orgasm multiple times around the girth of his hard dick. Before you can speak, he reaches out and threads his fingers between your own. It was impossible to say no to the lilting honey of his tone, nor was there any will to fight as his firm and commanding hands ushered you towards the teleportation door. He practically pulls you into the mirror with him, and with a twinkly, delighted laugh, his covetous hand grasps you harder than ever as the portal draws closer, his eyes and touch almost reverential—eager, desperate, craving. The surface of the mirror swallows both of you up as the shadows distort the edges of your vision. The whole world spins around you both before the smell of the sea overwhelms your senses—the crispness of ocean air fills your lungs, and a feeling of cool relief washes over your flushed skin. In seconds, Azul is shoving you into an elevator and hitting the button to his suite. When the metal doors slide open, he gently shuffles you forward as he urges your body closer and closer toward his bedroom.

After his dorm door slams shut, your bodies mindlessly work to free the other's of their pesky and offending clothing, eager and restless fingers tearing and ripping at each article as though your lives depended on it. As each piece of clothing is discarded on the floor, new heated skin presses desperately into another as your erotic moans reverberate through the air. It feels electric, the way your sensitive, exposed bodies seek each other out, pawing and grasping at any available flesh and kissing any naked skin you can reach. Your hot, yearning mouth hungrily seeks Azul's for an urgent, feverish kiss—it is sloppy, desperate, almost savage as you share the intensity of your lusty feelings, gasping into each other's mouths, sucking, nibbling, tasting the sweet and sticky aphrodisiac concoction still lingering on both of your tongues. When Azul finally sheds his trousers, his painfully erect member juts out, throbbing and eager, bouncing happily and proudly as it quivers with eagerness. His knees weaken at the sudden release of the tension he'd suffered since the accident, the air a bit brisk against the heat of his erection, which begs to nestle itself securely into an inviting heat and fill your womb with the lusty seed it desires to spurt forth. His cock is ruddy and reddened, and his sack hangs swollen and tight with pent-up pressure. He doesn't think it possible for it to throb and swell even larger, yet its angry head and veins grow dark and twitch from his hot blood pumping. His hand mindlessly falls to his cock, and at the first stroke to his aching member, a needy whine catches in his throat. There is no time for shyness or apprehension. Whatever spell you were both under was driving you forward—like two planets caught in the gravity of an irresistible force, each gravitationally pulled toward the other with no means to stop. The rational part of his brain has been overwhelmed by an urgent instinct. Azul knows without a shadow of doubt that the only cure for this overwhelming haze of sexual depravity is to thrust himself deep inside the hot, velvety cunt of his precious lab partner.

Next thing you knew, you were pushed roughly, falling backwards before connecting against the smooth, luxurious blankets covering his mattress. He follows eagerly, letting his entire weight drop against your form and trapping your supple body beneath his. It was then, right then, when Azul found that the feeling of his aroused cock pressing against your thigh was unbelievably divine—a warm and pleasant tingling sensation spreading all over his hot, hard shaft and emanating out from his loins. With a contented hum, Azul can't resist the urge to buck his hips against your warm skin, stroking his arousal a little further, groaning at the exquisite friction. What a delicious sight you are—all nude and aroused—splayed and exposed across his bed. The effects of the potion have left you looking thoroughly wrecked, legs open, dripping and hot with an aroma so alluring, it nearly knocks the air out of his lungs. You are positively lovely, just as he'd always dreamed, with your petals unfurled and beckoning, enticing him further and drawing him in as your soft moans coaxed his cock in closer. To see you writhing and panting, the flush of your skin as you burned with longing for him...it was exactly as he'd always wanted it, almost as though someone had crafted the perfect image just to fulfill his darkest wishes. A surge of erotic fantasy comes upon him, and Azul's breath hitches in his throat as he ponders, briefly, about your womb filled with his seed, his beautiful angelfish round with child. He wants nothing more than to unceremoniously bury himself as deep within as he can, to push his thick, pulsating shaft as far as you could manage and stay buried to the hilt for days. His body quivers with excitement as a particularly vulgar dream reenters his mind. He had longed, always, to possess a most lascivious power over you—the power to make you writhe and squirm in bliss, and more importantly, in total and unbreakable dependence and submission for him—the neediest, sluttiest mess imaginable. Perhaps he'd have to thank Grim later for consequentially bringing about this fortunate chain of events.

Azul begins stroking himself fully, unabashed in his view of the sight before him. You don't protest the show. In fact, a high pitched, whimpery moan escapes you as you bite into your thumb to stifle the volume, but the sound is not missed, the harsh pang in his cock proof enough. After some thought, he realizes that he much preferred when you had been writhing and moaning quite uninhibitedly a moment earlier. You shift uncomfortably underneath his heated gaze as his eyes drink in every little curve, every little wrinkle and fold of your dripping pussy. Your toes curl inward and the ache deep within you demands attention. "You're so perfect, my little angelfish. Your body is exactly as I imagined," his saccharine voice admits as he leans forward, letting his fingers dance across the swell of your breasts. His left hand cradles your jaw and throat as his right continues its delicate massage across the plush pillow of your breasts, toying with the perked nubs of your nipples as his thumbs swirl small circles against the delicate flesh.

Azul's gentle touch ignites flames under his fingertips that follow his descent down to the juncture of your legs. The first brush against your swollen bundle of nerves and slit has your spine arching upwards, making his cock throb even more painfully, stiffening under the visual of your trembling body. A whine escapes and your hips grind involuntarily, the heat building intensely as his fingers begin to experimentally spread your folds slowly, running the tip of a finger from your core to the hood of your pearl. Without warning, Azul swipes upwards, expertly pulling back the hood and exposing the raw, sensitive flesh of nerves underneath, pinching down on the fleshy bud and causing you to yelp loudly in shock. With a satisfied grin, his forefinger begins to toy and tweak the hardened bud, rubbing gentle, rhythmic patterns over and over against the bundle as a chorus of delightful, high-pitched squeals fill his dormitory. After a few more ministrations, his hands continue down, delving his fingers straight into the moistened and heated opening, swiping up the slick mess you had coated his palm in. Two long fingers deftly slip right between your folds, caressing their way around your labia, your wet walls clenching around his fingertips desperately. "This wetness, for me?" Azul chuckles wickedly, crooking his fingers upward and brushing your g-spot with a knowing curl of his fingers, sending you spasming, gasping, and writhing in ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering wildly. "Oh, my dearest—so precious, my angelfish. That's it, so beautiful, just for me..." His voice drips with lecherous intent, his body moving without even the slightest hint of hesitation as though you were merely an extension of his own and not even a separate entity. Your wetness coats his fingers easily as Azul keeps sliding his fingers into your wet heat until the pads of his fingers touch all your deepest, hidden places, causing more sweet moans to fall from your lips and echo through his room. He scissors and curls his digits inside, stroking you slowly as though wanting to feel every bump, crease, and ridge along your walls, claiming his ownership over your deepest parts with a sinister delight.

A pressure builds and teeters precariously right at the precipice—the curling of his digits work feverishly to milk every drop of pleasure he can from your shuddering body, the warm flood of wetness drenching his eager fingers and making his head fall back with a sensuous moan. He continues with his relentless assault against your pussy, whispering filthy compliments about how badly he wanted to fuck you and how sexy it is when you take his fingers so well. Your legs flutter open wider, inviting his slim and nimble digits deeper within you, fucking them vigorously as your release begins to pool, rising closer to the boiling point. The aphrodisiac grips its poisonous talons deeper into your mind, warping and bending everything into an unshakable desire to submit yourself and your pleasure to the hands of the devious sea creature above you. He leans down, his silvery eyes roving over your face in an intense appraisal, his features drawn in with concentration, mapping out how to unravel you—there wasn't an emotion or micro expression that slipped past his vision as he carefully considered all the factors of how best to please and overwhelm your body with incomparable rapture. There isn't anything else beyond the present—no outside forces, nor worries about the consequences of being intimate. There's simply no room in your mind to think at this point, the cloudiness of the effects rendering your body vulnerable—you give yourself up entirely. He drinks up every breath, every shake and shiver, as he continues calculating your climax, relishing in each tiny noise or action he drew from you, meticulous with the acquisition of your bliss.

"Yes. Give in." he laughs maniacally, his face fully consumed in the intense madness of his lustful insanity. "Give in to every sensation. Let me drive you wild... Do as I command and cum," Azul demands you through his laughter, his breathing rapid and heavy as he watches your eyes rolling back. He moans in awe as the loud, slick sounds of his hand filling your soaking cunt meet his ears and a deep flush travels across his collarbones. His own needy cock leaks, eagerly anticipating what's next as its engorged state bulges obscenely, its every vein throbbing with virile desperation. Your high-pitched moans continue for some time as his pace stays fast, until you can finally feel your entire body tensing up, the fire coiling inside your gut ready to explode any moment. Everything builds higher and higher to the peak, every muscle and nerve fiber in your body primed to receive that last push that would send you catapulting over the cliff. As he feels your walls tremble, Azul moans along with your high-pitched wailing. A deranged smile stretches across his face and his silver eyes fill with amusement and fascination. 

Azul leans into your ear, whispering sweet nothings mixed with commanding, demanding words to finally succumb, "That's it...Let go..." He twists and digs deeper, stroking the perfect places inside you, hitting the correct spots relentlessly in an overload of mind-bending, debauchery-fueled, electric-spark pleasure, forcing your senses to dissociate from reality. His thrusting hand matches the frantic racing of his own heart, unable to keep the carnal fever down. "Give in... submit yourself fully, and surrender that orgasm. It's mine. I've worked for it, and now it belongs only to me." He whispers in a devilish growl, nibbling on your ear as his strokes become rougher, harder, faster—you can hardly stand the overwhelming force of your pleasure before its sweet relief crashes like waves. A broken moan leaves your mouth, a pure exaltation of uncontrolled passion. Noises come tumbling out and spilling over until you finally dissolve into a messy orgasm, shrieking his name in pleasure as his hand slows its motions but doesn't stop, keeping its pressure steady and rocking the whole of your existence until your mind goes blank. "Such a good, obedient angelfish, giving me all of your sweet, succulent cum... all for me, yes?" Azul hums sweetly, teasingly. "Oh, this is so precious," he sighs, feeling the quaking and trembling of your fluttering walls. His expression melts into one of deep satisfaction and pride.

"There you go, my lovely angelfish. Just as I said I would," Azul croons. Without another word, his hand, wet with your desire, abandons its ministrations, pulling from your depths with a slick pop, leaving your empty cunt to tremble from his absence. Azul brings his fingers to his mouth for a lewd taste test, licking the juices from his hand as a self-indulgent smirk plays upon his lips. As he rolls the digits around his tongue, sampling the essence of your cunt, a sharp groan rumbles deep from within his chest, the vibration coursing down his spine and directly into his throbbing member. Even as his breath grows heavy from the feeling of his needy cock, the smug, triumphant smirk doesn't disappear. He enjoys the honeyed, tangy sweetness and savors the lingering sensation on his taste buds—another string attached, making it utterly impossible for him to let go. A low chuckle is heard from deep in his chest, dark and hauntingly mirthful. From his pleased sigh, you could easily read the insatiable hunger growing within his gleaming eyes—clearly the lust in his loins has only been ignited further—a starving, manic beast hungry for even more from your yielding form, an insatiable craving that can't be satiated so easily. His cock visibly twitches, begging for him to mount you and thrust his painfully aroused length as far as he can manage deep into your eager, spasming pussy. The aphrodisiac courses through his veins with all the potency of a tropical storm, whipping every nerve into a frenzy as the instinct takes hold in Azul's most primordial thoughts and drives all those cravings with an irrepressible urgency—he simply has to get your pregnant. Azul's cheeks flush with a reddish-pink shade as he fixates on you, the hunger in his gaze absolutely feral, filled with a single-minded lustful determination to breed you.

When your eyes meet his maddened, love-struck stare, you are overcome with the same desperation radiating from your womb, urging to be stuffed and claimed by his thick load. At last, the two of you had connected in this all-consuming fire—a conflagration of desire so severe and a love so encompassing that both of you could do nothing more than dance on the ashes and burn with the flames. In that moment of recognition, an irresistible, bewitching aura emanates from him and mesmerizes you as the air of mystery dissipates from his visage, the eroticized specter of the fearsome and dangerous, devious mogul melts away to reveal the raw intensity of the young man underneath, exposed in all his ardent, unfettered passions. Here stands Azul, naked with vulnerability, desiring only a love that no other has been able to truly give. He's always tried to prevent access to his real emotions, afraid of the kind of cruelty they would reap upon him if they were found. He didn't believe himself to be worthy of their regard, let alone capable of receiving someone's genuine affections. With you, though, there were none of his signature theatrics, no polite deflection, nor charming evasiveness; he gave you full permission to view him and all of his repressed feelings on full display. An open book, Azul trusts you enough to expose his heart fully, so transparent in his neediness. Since he brought you to his bedroom, there was never the slightest hint of deception in his tone—not once had he attempted to distract you, nor used a tactic or trick. Perhaps his true intentions for getting close to you were more admirable than you thought, his desperation to get close to you was merely just a pining for your love rather than a sordid trick. His earnest, loving gaze, combined with the grip of your desire, makes something finally shift within, like the turning of the tide—a sense that it was fated for you to fall and crash so desperately, madly, and completely for him—a long-awaited inevitability, just as he had already done for you long before this Alchemy accident. Azul was an adoringly gentle yet brutally powerful force, a pillar in your life you can lean into without hesitation. All of your fears, worries, and frustrations are suddenly null, evaporating into the thin air of Octavinelle, carried into the gentle waters outside the window and disappearing into the seas.

Nothing is more erotic than seeing his carefully maintained veneer crumbling before you and letting himself fall apart at the seams. No longer hiding his desires or his ambitions for you, Azul's lusty hunger has you excited, aroused, and turned on like never before. You return his lustful, hazy expression and Azul is drawn right into the softness of your inviting stare. Your mouth parts to allow a needy moan to pass as you buck your hips slightly, inviting him to finally claim your body as his, a beautiful sacrifice you're eager to make for a beautiful siren such as him. With a deep, lewd groan, Azul pushes off your trembling body, propping himself onto his knees and groping at your chest, making you mewl. There's no trace left of the smooth businessman persona, not even a hint of it lingers when his wet mouth kisses at your mounds and his large hands explore the contours of your curves, his fingertips desperately memorizing the way you're put together, tracing every bit of available flesh. His eager tongue swirls at your peaked nipples, moaning in appreciation and delight. Your mind is being swallowed by a bubbling wave of bliss that has no end as his hand trails across your hips, his touch is as gentle as a ripple in the water. With a shyly embarrassed flush and a sigh of wanton abandonment, you surrender entirely to him—letting the sea creature drown you in ecstasy, deeper and deeper, into the endless ocean. He caresses your stomach gently, the calloused pads of his fingers exploring the sensitive skin where he knows your womb lies. Your heart stumbles as his lips twist upward in an impish smirk at the thought of all the cum he's soon going to pump straight into the cavity. He palms your belly, which would soon carry his progeny as an inevitable result of this union, imagining his angelfish's stomach rounded and taut with his unborn child, perhaps, even more than once—Azul's thoughts are full of fantasies about filling you and fucking your pretty little womb over and over until he succeeds and you're blessed with his babies. Azul hums at the image of your pregnant body, worshiping the slope of your thighs and rubbing his hands up your waist and the undersides of your breasts. Azul knows that even if it doesn't work right away, he is more than prepared to breed you again and again as many times as necessary. He is more than certain you'll eventually give him a consortium of little octopus-human hybrids. After all, you'd offered yourself up in the end. Who was he not to take what was freely given?

He grasps the back of your knee to prop up your leg in the air, shifting closer. In one fell swoop, your tender thighs are flung open, revealing your glistening cunt. Azul moans, running the rough pad of his finger right up the slit of your lips. You're already a mess, his slick hand had not been able to satisfy your heat at all, it only created a further yearning deep within that could only be satisfied by his aching cock. Azul settles against the fronts of your thighs, letting the stiff heat of his bulging erection nestle against the dripping lips of your cunt, already poised and eager for insertion. The anticipation causes the two of you to tremble slightly at the intimacy, your lips wet and sticky as they run against the length, his cock drooling freely from the tip and leaking beads of sticky, precum fluid right across your folds. With one more affectionate, sweet peck against the corner of your lip, and another one right upon your forehead, Azul slowly glides inside. A shared cry of euphoria leaves your mouths simultaneously as Azul buries the full length of his throbbing cock into your sopping entrance, thrusting powerfully to hilt balls-deep. The pure, erotic rapture of finally consummating your love floods both of your veins. His dick is filling you in the most indescribable way and stretching your cunt so deliciously that stars appear behind your eyes. A glorious symphony of relief sings in your blood while his hard girth massages your innermost walls as though he were meant for no other—like he was perfectly made to be the puzzle piece filling your immaculate pussy. You both gasp sharply in unison as the sensation sends tremors down his shaft. Every vein, ridge, and inch of his length drags deeply with each thrust as he grinds you thoroughly, bringing your clits into tantric connection and rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth in perfect time with the rocking motion. Each snap of his hip makes the two of you share a joyful sob as he pleasures you in the most divine manner.

A low and sinful groan passes through your lips as your hands grip him tighter, begging him to increase his momentum and pace. Azul's hands clutch you in a tight embrace, his chest to yours with every inch of his hardness fully embedded into your velvety passage, sending white-hot sparks of pleasure shooting to the deepest recesses of your innermost being, triggering the sudden rush of a climax that is starting to rise to its precipice. Azul groans as your juices run down his balls, pooling around his sack and providing more lubrication for his relentless drive inside of you. You clench and flutter around him, squeezing your inner walls with every desperate urge for friction and movement, drawing Azul's eye right up to yours in a lusty daze. His body is coiling for release, ready to cum, and there's a glitter of utter happiness in his expression. His lips quiver with desire and he smirks as he feels you clamping and spasming around his rock-hard dick, begging him to breed you like the little slut that he secretly knows you are, all while knowing deep down you'd get so unbelievably plump and swollen with his hatchlings, he'd hardly be able to move his tentacles with all the kids crawling over him.

It's more intense, and far more electrifying than the filthy fantasies that had invaded his sleep every lonely evening whenever he gave in to his insufferable yearning for you. He'd envisioned this, over and over—what it would feel like to make you orgasm, just how satisfying it would feel to cum with you at the same time, and how heavenly it would be to stretch your cunt so snugly—and yet, in this moment, it surpasses his imagination exponentially, eliciting a complete flood of sensual pleasure all throughout his senses. Not even his wildest wet dreams had prepared him for the heady intoxication and undeniable high he experiences with you—being passionately and physically intertwined, wrapped around the most sublime euphoria that was possible—a wave so dizzying that there's absolutely no going back to life without the other once your bodies have succumbed and reached that ultimate, highest peak.

When Azul hits the point of no-return, his legs start shaking as though his limbs were going to fall off. His fingers tangle roughly in your hair as he drags your mouth closer to meet his. With each heavy thrust, he swallows every moan that erupts from your throat. His movements become less coherent, rougher, and disjointed as the strength of your cunt's embrace pulses tightly around his shaft and urges him toward the edge. Suddenly, an intense wave of satisfaction takes hold and shoots to the tip of his cock, pulsating violently in need to release its seed. Azul can't help but groan loudly into your ear as he slams his cock into you with ferocious strength, fucking the life and soul right out of your being while a high-pitched scream accompanies the splash and squelching noises of your pussy. Your mouth has gone slack, jaw dropping as you cry out his name and climax with such power that it whips you into a complete frenzy of desperation, sending your vision dancing with lights. You quake and shiver under the force of his fervor and ecstasy, writhing on the mattress and throwing your head backward to soak in your overwhelming, toe-curling rapture. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, pounding you fiercely as you wail and shatter with a rush of emotions so intense, you don't know if you will ever put yourself back together. A strained whine and a few sharp pumps later, a surge of hot, wet euphoric heat shoots from Azul's balls and spurts out in ribbons of his own spent climax as he spends his load of pearly cum directly into your waiting womb, splashing your tight channel with a continuous stream—painting every crevice of your silken, fluttering, vice-like depths a glossy white. Azul is unable to help himself as his hips start grinding into yours with slow rolls, fucking and stuffing every drop of his sticky cream deeply and ensuring it remains securely nestled in your folds. Every remaining bit of sexual tension floods out as though you'd been submerged in the most heavenly waterfall of pleasure imaginable. Azul whines weakly into the pillow and your moans join, eventually dissipating into a heavenly silence as you sink heavily back to reality.

Time slows to an almost stop and your vision gets a bit hazy and bleary as the aphrodisiac magic completely pulses away. You two lay side by side on the soft blankets, still in the bed and soaked with sweat. Neither of you move for quite some time. Just in the wake of your post-orgasm, everything becomes intensely surreal. You try to breathe quietly so Azul doesn't hear and as his head rests on your breasts. He, too, is heaving with difficulty, each inhale is a conscious decision. He clings tightly against you, hands threaded together like a lifeline, afraid to let go. One last sentence leaves his mouth—a whisper that could have easily been missed by anyone except for you. It was a question.

"Are we both in love?" Azul asks with such hesitance, you think maybe you've misheard his inquiry. He is lying right by your side. His face is dangerously close to yours, and the way his stormy, ocean azure eyes reflect every emotion swirling inside allows you to see the years of hurt that's plagued him. He's absolutely enchanted, like you are the perfect dream come true—everything he'd ever imagined in one living, breathing, precious human body—a lover so magnificent he could hardly comprehend. He studies your expression with awe and reverence. A look so intensely raw it burns right through your heart and lights up the space in your soul that you never before realized was reserved just for him. "Because I love you... Truly and deeply. So much that I don't know how it was possible, even," Azul admits freely, without the least hint of apprehension or nervousness. You can feel the intensity and honesty of his words radiate through his trembling fingertips, through the places where his naked skin touched yours—he doesn't try to mask the pure unadulterated warmth and delight that leaks through the shaky but firm expression on his flushed face.

A wide, cheerful and genuine grin breaks out against your features as you nod enthusiastically, and it is almost as though a heavenly, soothing light has poured over his entire world. It feels like a dream, a fairytale that is too good to be true. Yet here you both lie, doused in the magic of the concoction, clinging to each other and to that euphoric elation after giving in to the passions and the chemical bonds. It felt incredible, it felt natural and familiar and right. This wasn't anything artificial, rather the long overdue acknowledgement of feelings that were there all along—a kindling of romance that was never forced, but rather fanned to life after many days spent as Alchemy partners. After seeing each other every day, getting to know each other's quirks, and learning of each other's daily habits, the intimacy had bloomed and nurtured into something tender and real. The closeness the potion provided simply allowed the two of you the confidence needed to step across a boundary and pursue things.

"This won't be something short lived... you understand what I am saying, yes?" His tone has a tinge of fear creeping in and you can't help but stroke the outline of his cheekbones. This feeling will not end with a simple fuck, you knew that deep in the marrow. There will be more of that to come. In fact, the thought of it has your cunt pulsing, your sex aching at the idea. "I simply won't have you anywhere else but with me, and here in my dorm. I just won't be able to be happy otherwise..." Azul's voice quivers as the vulnerable sincerity flows.

"Yes, Azul. Yes, I understand and I feel the exact same," you chuckle and cradle his head. His blue eyes crinkle slightly from the beam across his lips, and Azul can't resist pulling you in for a feverish kiss, groaning from the rush. That familiar, sinfully blissful high is starting to take hold again, the rush of the aphrodisiac stirring something fiery back into a pleasant burn. The chemical’s grip on the two of you continues. After all, nothing will stop the magic from bringing you closer together. He murmurs a seductive promise into the curve of your throat that he won't stop until his load drips and slides right out of your swollen cunt—he's going to breed you the rest of the night and spill as much of himself deep within as he can. He has no doubt you're going to give him a child that will cement this loving bond permanently.

Listen I don't know HOW this HAPPENED, I DON'T understand how I wrote this much. I am DELIRIOUS and I need to go pick up some pizza for dinner, so I wish I could say more here but I can't right now. I'll update this part when I get back home. I just needed to get this out into the UNIVERSE. THANK YOU ALL!!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! <3333 Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader smut #twst smut #twst x reader smut #twst azul ashengrotto x reader smut #twst azul ashengrotto smut #twisted wonderland azul x reader smut #azul ashengrotto x reader smut #twst azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto smut #twst azul #twisted wonderland azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland azul #azul x reader #my writing

[riki-dazed]

You get into a bad argument with your boyfriend, Riki. The evening proceeds to end in a very unexpected way.

NSFW smut · block & don't read if you're uncomfortable · toxicity, cursing, pure angsty, smutty filth with a touch of softness at the end,, call it a heart-wrenching rollercoaster, if you will · wc · 1774 · requested

"You always find something about me to complain about," You cried, throwing your hands in the air as you stormed about Riki's tension-filled room in frustration, looking for your belongings.

"You're being dramatic," He snapped back as his eyes watched you from the door way, his gaze piercing. "Just say you regret ever becoming my girlfriend,"

Something within you snapped after Riki got home in a bad mood and decided to take out his frustrations on you. You couldn't control your emotions, considering it wasn't the first time he had done that. The both of you have already had to deal with a couple of arguments in the short time since you started dating, which was leading you to believe that you just simply weren't compatible for him in that sense. If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were worried since the very beginning of the relationship. You and Riki spent many years as very close friends, you loved him dearly. More than any other friend. The thought of a relationship ruining things between the two of you scared you to death, though, Riki reassured you everything would be okay.

Until it wasn't.

His facial expression changed as he noticed you starting to pile clothes into one of your bags, his heart began to sink. He wanted to stop you but he didn't know how to approach the situation, he had never seen you that angry and upset in all of the years he had known you. The longer he watched you irritably pack your belongings, the tighter the feeling within his chest grew. The realization was starting to eat at him. He knew he messed up again, big time.

He watched you silence as your tears didn't stop flowing.

"Good fucking job for ruining this, Riki, I told you countless times how worried I was for us at the start,"

"Can you just stop and fucking talk to me," His voice began to tremble, his hands found their way into his hair and tugged at the strands.

"What's there to talk about? I do regret becoming your girlfriend!"

Although Riki was an emotional person, he was never great at expressing those said emotions. You kept your eyes off him, though, knowing how he affects you when he's upset. You cared for him so deeply, you'd cross oceans if you had to in order to comfort your boy, and by the sound of his voice, you could just tell his nonchalant composure was nowhere to be found anymore.

His tall frame stopped you in your tracks, his hands found their way to your shoulders as he towered over you. For someone so big compared to your frame, his voice sounded small.

"You don't mean that,"

"Get off me," You almost yelled, your eyes stayed focused on the floor, not daring to look at his face. Your body twisted and turned as it tried to get out of his grasp.

After not being able to break out of his hold, your tear-filled eyes finally looked up at Riki's. His bottom lip was quivering, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill. You had never seen his face look like that. Before you could process anything, Riki pulled you into his chest. His arms clung around you tightly, he was so afraid to let you go. Your arms stayed swinging by your sides as you stood against his warm chest, letting out silent cries as your tears continued to pour. Your eyes screwed shut.

Riki couldn't hold his emotions back after scenes of a life without you in it flashed throughout his mind. That was the first time he allowed himself to be so incredibly vulnerable in front of anyone, ever. Even you.

"You don't mean that," Riki repeated, he was crying into the crook of your neck. The sounds of his sniffles only made your tears fall harder. You raised your arms slightly, grasping the sides of his shirt within your hands.

"Y/n," His voice broke the sorrowful, long silence. He lifted his head from where it was settled beside your neck, and wiped at your tears with his thumbs. "Let me show you how much you mean to me,"

Your eyes drifted from his gaze, unsure of how to reply to him, "Riki.."

"Please," He pleaded, attaching his quivering, pillowy lips to one of your tear-stained cheeks.

One thing lead to another, and before you knew it, you were suddenly sat on the edge of Riki's bed. Your face was still struck by pain, you couldn't even force the frown off it. He stood in front of you, pulling his hoodie over his head. Your gaze lifted, eyes scanning him carefully as he revealed his breathtakingly toned body, you were sure it was sculpted by the gods. Silence continued to engulf the tension-filled room as your hands got to work on Riki's belt, one of his hands simultaneously pushed damp strands of hair out of your face. You shuffled your body backwards across the soft sheets, your eyes not leaving his. He climbed onto the bed after stepping out of his jeans, he followed after you and propped his body above yours.

Riki's woeful gaze burned into yours for what felt like an eternity.. Before his lips met yours in a fervent hunger. He kissed you like he had never kissed you before. Your tear-stained cheeks met his ones as he deepened the kiss, your mouth being entirely engulfed by his. Your breaths mingled, hot and heavy as you let his tongue fight against yours. The kiss spoke volumes without words, it expressed every single pent-up emotion he had buried deep within himself.

You couldn't believe this was how he was going to take your virginity, and you, his. While you were painfully upset at him. You thought about how you had different plans for how you wanted your first time to go, though, your focus was shifted back onto Riki as you felt him slightly lift your oversized shirt. He left gentle kisses across the skin on your abdomen, in which left you with chills running up your spine. He then tugged at the waistband of your sweatpants, helping you take them off. He left another trail of wet kisses up your legs and thighs, stopping at your soaked panties, almost drooling over the sight. Riki's eyes, puffy and red, found yours again. You gave him a nod, reassuring him that he could proceed.

His hands tugged the soft fabric down, his lips placing a kiss where your body needed him the most. He slipped a finger between your folds, wanting to ensure you were ready for him. Your body reacted immediately, your hips lifted off the bed and into his touch. He lips traveled up your body, and found their way back to yours in a sweet kiss. He reached a hand between your bodies, tugging at his boxers.

His voice was gentle as you felt him rub his length against your wetness, "Ready?"

"Yeah," You breathed out,

Riki's gaze didn't leave yours as he pushed himself into your core excruciatingly slowly, eliciting a gasp from you. He groaned at the feeling of having you finally wrapped around him. It took him a few moments to bottom out inside, before he waited for you to adjust to his size. He carefully analyzed your face for any signs of pain or discomfort. You were seeing stars at the feeling and size of him.

Riki became alarmed when he noticed your eyes starting to fill with tears yet again, he wasn't aware of the fact that it was due to how much of an emotional mess you were in the moment. You couldn't deny your anger towards him, yet you also couldn't deny the fact that you loved him more than anything and anyone in the world.

"Keep going," You broke the silence. He kissed your tears away before he began to thrust carefully into you, his gaze switching between your eyes and lips. A finger of yours settled on his bottom lip as you scanned his gorgeous features.

"Does it f-feel okay?" He managed to choke out quietly against your finger, as he continued his actions. Your back arched, your chest pushed against his.

Another moan escaped your lips, "More than okay,"

You could feel your release build up over the next few minutes as he repeatedly hit all of the right spots, he was thrusting into you like there was no tomorrow. Your hands ran along the soft skin of his back, he was so warm. The thin layer of sweat covering him made his skin glisten.

"Y/n," He panted into your ear, from what you could tell, he was very close, "I'm so sorry,"

You were closer.

A short, high-pitched moan fell out of your lips as you felt yourself come undone, Riki's pace quickened as he chased his own high. You choked out a sentence you had been meaning to tell Riki for a long time, in the middle of it all.

"I- I love you," You cried, barely being able to speak, your hands still stuck to the bed sheets,

Riki's gaze shifted back to your face instantaneously, he thought he was hearing things. His lips bit at yours as he pulled out and released all over your tummy, the sticky liquid felt warm against your skin. He felt another tear run down one of his cheeks, he was so overriden with emotions he didn't know what to do with himself.

"I love you so much more," The boy panted, trying to regain his breath as he laid his head on top of you, his chin nuzzling between your clothed breasts.

You pushed his hair out of his face as you raised an eyebrow at him, your voice tired, "But I'm still angry at you,"

His eyes closed as a light chuckle escaped his mouth, gaze soon softening as he continued to watch your face. Your fingers were still within the messy strands of his hair.

"I can live with that, but I can't live without you,"

His statement felt like a stab at your chest, god, you truly did love him.

"I never regretted becoming yours," You sighed as you suddenly remembered the angry sentence you spat at your boyfriend, just to get a reaction out of him for how he emotionally hurt you.

Riki moved his body to place a kiss on the side of your neck. He nuzzled into the space, his arms hung around your figure. He kept you close.

"I can't live without you either, Riki, we'll work through this."

#enhypen smut #riki smut #ni-ki smut #enhypen imagines #riki imagines #niki smut #niki imagines #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #riki-dazed

[drabblesbyjubs]

Just Need Time

Astarion x gn! Tav Reader, Astarion is pent up but also wants to please the reader, he makes himself want to have sex with reader but reader stops him and helps him figure out what he really wants. Fluff, smut, a little bit of angst. Minors DNI

Tws// mentions of sexual trauma, Astarion’s backstory stuff, mild disassociation for a few minutes, trauma, mild spoilers for non ascended Astarion’s ending, sexual content and smut

.

I want everyone to know that I got stuck working an 8 hour shift as a cashier on my last day of work so I wrote this between customers, enjoy and here’s to my new job

Time with Astarion is sacred.

After nearly losing him multiple times throughout your journey to rid yourselves of the mind flayer parasite, you’d come to appreciate every second you spent with him. Every moment during the day, snuggling and spending time with one another, and spending the nights running through Faerûn and enjoying the adrenaline of exploration, it was all beyond precious to you both.

But especially to Astarion. For the first time in two centuries, he belonged to himself; he could go where he wanted, do what he wanted, be what he wanted. He was free.

That didn’t mean he was alright, though.

Being with you had helped. You’d shown him freedom, devotion, and everything he’d ever wished he could have had in a partner. But part of his mind was still stuck in that dark, dank crypt, the smell of mildew festering in his lungs, the fear at the sound of every footstep lurking in his heart. The nights he was let out, but not to be free, only to use his body to gain some innocent soul’s trust and bring them back for him to take out his most wretched fantasies on.

Astarion was usually the victim of these fantasies, but if Cazador truly did what he wished with Astarion, well, there would be no more Astarion to take out those fantasies on.

Those memories plagued his mind nearly every night. He often woke from the nightmares feeling utterly emotionless, numb to the world. Fear aches low in his heart, and he would roll over and scoot up to you. You took him in to your arms with no question; you already knew.

Sometimes he would jolt out of bed, too enveloped by the memories to realize it was you next to him. He would become defensive, either scared of you or insisting you leave before he came back. When he snapped back to reality, he was utterly humiliated, but you never shamed him, always made him feel like everything would be okay, and he would forget about the terrors of the night before by the time you two set out for adventure after sunset.

He wanted more than anything to be like a normal person; completely comfortable in his relationship, never a fear that things would go awry, blindly trusting and accepting of everything you did. You understood why he couldn’t be like that, and did your best to make him feel as close to normal as he ever could. And gods, did he love you for that. You were utterly hypnotizing, he would tear out his heart with a stake if you asked him; hell, he would carve the stake himself. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

And even if you assured him he owed you nothing at all, not even a passing glance, he wanted to give you something to make you happy.

He often gave you wildflowers, knowing you always liked the bright colors and soft petals, or smooth, shiny rocks he found down by the creek, or little rings and necklaces he bought with his dwindling gold supply when the two of you went in to town. But he still often felt like the only thing he could do right enough to truly make others happy was sex.

It was practiced, it was routine. Use his body to make someone feel good, make a few pretty faces, and it was done. There was something safe in the familiarity of it, though the sheer gut wrenching disgust that followed after never sit right with him.

You hadn’t hesitated to agree when Astarion had asked if you two could stop having sex for a while. Your sexual activity had dwindled anyways; you’d often told him you were just tired, or wanted to make sure you had plenty of energy for the coming day. Part of him knew you could tell he didn’t really want it, but he chose to believe you just wanted a break, and it was relieving to not have to perform. It was a weight off of his shoulders.

But more recently, he’d been pent up. He found himself craving release; of course he thought of coming to you for help, but the thought of having to perform, to make you feel good and owe you that pleasure after he takes his own, it sent a writhing sensation under his skin. As much as he liked the thought of seeing your eyes filled with arousal, he didn’t want that feeling of perform. Continue. No choice. Earn your life, bring him someone.

But he wanted to make you happy. He had done this so many times before; why not once more, just to see you satisfied? You must be pent up as well after so long of dealing with his unwillingness to give you something so simple. It was the least he could do. He would achieve the release he’d began to crave, you would be happy, and he would know you would stay with him and know he cared for you.

..

Astarion rolled above you, that mischievous smirk on his face as he looked down at you. You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Someone’s in a playful mood tonight,” you teased, to which Astarion hummed.

“Whoever could that be?” He muttered, leaning down and capturing you in a kiss. You felt his tongue swipe across your lower lip, but before you could grant him entrance, he pulled away, before moving to mouth softly at your neck. You hummed, your chest fluttering as you inhaled. You could feel his lips move against you, his tongue swiping over the scars of old bites, his canines brush dangerously over the delicate skin of your neck.

You put your hands on his chest and muttered, “Mmh, Astarion, what’s going on?”

“Hmm?” He hummed in a questioning tone.

“You don’t normally act like this,” you breathed. “Is everything okay?”

“So sweet for asking,” he murmured. “Just pent up. I want you, if you’ll have me.”

You scanned over his face; nothing seemed off. He seemed genuine. You weren’t sure why he was offering though; this wasn’t like him. Maybe he was actually just pent up?

“You promise you’ll tell me to stop if it’s too much?”

“Of course, love,” he breathed against your neck, softly nipping at the skin there, threatening to break skin.

You nod, hands running up his sides. “Okay. As long as you promise.”

Astarion gave a pleased sound, his hands snaking under your shirt. Calloused fingertips brushed against your skin, before pulling your shirt up above your head and leaning down to kiss at your shoulders, mouth at your collarbones, and nip at your chest.

You gave a shaky sigh, your hand running over his back, savoring the way he arched against the touch. He was good at this, no doubt, but it always hurt you to think of *why.*

Astarion leaned back, staring down at you almost hungrily. He pulled his own shirt over his head, and you leaned up to run your hands over his chest and his stomach, before leaning in to kiss at the little dimple between his collarbones. He was always finicky about kissing his neck, especially on the side Cazador bit him on, and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, so you stuck to his shoulders and chest for now.

His hands found your waist, and as you pulled away from him, you saw the slightest flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he pushed you down to the bedroll and pulled your hips up against his, softly grinding against the curve of your ass.

You weren’t worried about that, though; you saw the way his eyes had slowly grown foggy and distant, the loss of expression, and the way his touches became almost rhythmic, nearly robotic; practiced and routine.

“Stop,” you said.

Astarion snapped out of it in an instant, present here and now once more. “Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?”

“Hun,” you leaned up, scooting your hips apart from his and gently cupping his cheek. “You don’t want this. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I do!” Astarion insisted, “Gods, I want this, please, I’m sorry, just let me-“ he hurriedly began grabbing at your hips, trying to pull you closer,

“Darling, stop.” You said, more assertively this time. His shoulders slumped and the look in his eyes broke your heart; he looked desperate, but not for sex. He looked so disappointed in himself.

“Come here,” you whispered, pulling him in for a hug. “Do you remember when I told you you don’t owe me anything?” He didn’t hug you back, but his forehead rested against your shoulder, and he gave a brisk little nod.

“But I do want it,” he said. “I just… I don’t want to have to give back, or be touched, or just… I don’t know, but I want something, and I-“

You hushed him, sensing his growing stress, running your fingers through his hair. You turned to kiss his temple, and he gave a happy little sound.

“I think I get it. You want to keep your control of your body, but don’t want to have to feel like you owe me pleasure either?” You questioned. He gave a brisk little nod.

“That’s alright. Astarion, we don’t have to do anything like this, I never want your to feel pressured, and-“

“But I do want… something like this.” He rebutted. “I just… want a little. I don’t know. I really am pent up. I’ve tried handling it myself, time and time again… I’ll sneak off into the woods and… and try and rid myself of these desires. But it… just… never works. I cant… I just cant. Not alone.”

You furrowed your brow, feeling just how embarrassed he was with the way he shuffled and squirmed against you, clutching at your sides.

“You mean… you can’t touch yourself, or..?”

“I can’t finish,” he corrected, his words rushed and jumbled.

“Oh,” you said. You kept running your fingers through his hair, taking a moment to think. You could tell how much this embarrassed him, just by how he was acting. “That’s alright, Astarion. What do you want me to do to help?”

“I… don’t know,” he breathed. “I just… I’m frustrated, i need something..”

“Would it be too much for me to touch you like that right now?” You asked him.

He nodded his head, and you pulled back, looking at him as you gently cupped his cheek in your hand. “Use your words, baby boy.”

Red eyes looked up to meet your own, and you couldn’t help but smile at him, if only to comfort him. “Yes, i think that would be too much right now. Maybe… maybe I could… i could touch myself and you can just… be here?”

You flushed a little with his words, but you nodded and kissed the tip of his nose, savoring the way he smiled.

“That sounds wonderful,” you said. “Here,” you began shifting him and yourself.

You moved so he was laying on his side, you laying behind him. Your chest was pressed to his, and you felt the full body shudder that went through him. “This okay?” You asked, and he nodded. You cuddled up to his back, and hummed to him, “Then go ahead, my love. Do what you want.”

Astarion shuddered and you could feel him moving to slip a hand under the hem of his pants. You gently rested a hand on his hip, not sensing anything saying he disliked the touch. His breathing slowly started to pick up, and you could feel him palming himself softly before slipping his cock from his trousers. You hummed your approval, whispering to him, “That’s a good boy.” He whined low in his throat, and you felt his arm start to move as he began stroking himself. You couldn’t see at this angle, but you felt the way his body would slowly start tensing, his chest rising, could see the way he tried to bury his face in the pillow, knowing you were right behind him as he touched himself.

You muttered soft coos of approval to him as he chased his pleasure, each of your words making his breath hitch just a little more.

You hummed, “So good for me, my love, making yourself feel good. Love watching you like this.”

You could so easily ignore your own arousal if it meant you got to witness his. He was beautiful.

Astarion gasped, “D-darling, gods… the way you talk to me, hah, makes me… fuck, I need it…” he trembled and began stroking himself faster, throwing his head back against your shoulder. You smiled against his neck and kissed the pale skin softly, feeling the way it made his entire body shudder. His breathing slowly turned in to whines, desperate and strained.

Your hand ran up to his chest, brushing over the soft skin, savoring the little twitch he gave when your hand ran over his nipples, moving to feel over his rib cage as you whispered how beautiful he was, making himself feel good like this.

You kissed his temple, the saltiness of his sweat clinging to your lips. You caught a glimpse of that beautiful face when he tilted it back to arch himself; brow furrowed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. “Gods,” you breathed, his red eyes fluttering open. You leaned up to kiss him, not even attempting to look down and see him desperately chasing his release, knowing that catching a glimpse may be too much for him.

You buried your face back in his neck, and he gave a high pitched whine, gasping, “C-can’t… fuck, love, ah, please, I can’t do it, please, help me,” the last words came out as a mere whisper, and you could feel how frantically he was moving in attempting to chase his release. Worried he would hurt himself, you whispered to him, your hand slowly trailing down his hips to rest on his upper thigh.

“May I touch you?” You asked.

“Please,” he nearly sobbed, letting himself go and grabbing your wrist to guide you to his cock. You wrapped your hand around him, heavy and hot in your palm. He was so hard, gods it must have hurt.

You stroked him softly, your thumb swiping over his tip and smearing his precum over himself. He whimpered, still holding your wrist, and you could feel the way his entire body trembled. “Please,” he whispered.

You kissed the back of his neck, mouthing at the flesh there softly as you set your pace, stroking him and smearing his pre over the head, making your hand much slicker to give him a feeling that, if his whimpers and trembles said anything, must be quite lovely.

He jolted and whined, his cock twitching in your hand. You could tell he was close, losing himself to the pleasure, one hand having a death grip on your wrist and the other tangled in the furs of the bedroll. You’d never seen him so lost to himself.

He gasped, “I’m gonna-!” Not even able to get out his warning before your felt his release coating your hand. You stroked him through his orgasm, savoring his gasps, catching the slightest glimpse of a furrowed brow and open mouth, eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill from the corners.

“That’s it, hun,” you breathed to him. “That’s a good boy. Let go for me.”

You kept stroking him until he gave a particularly harsh jolt, with which you withdrew your hand and wiped it on some miscellaneous clothing tossed near your bedroll. You kissed the back of his neck, savoring the silence for a moment.

Astarion was the first to speak. “Thank you,” he said.

“I hope it was to your liking. It wasn’t too much?”

“No, it was wonderful. I… needed that. Do… you want me to take care of you?” He rolled over to face you, glancing down to your trousers. You could see the unease stirring in his eyes at the thought alone

You shook your head. “Tonight was about you. I’m just happy I got to see that pretty face when you came,” you teased, fighting a laugh at Astarion’s shocked and embarrassed expression.

“Gods, you’re truly insufferable sometimes.”

“Same to you, my love,” you teased, kissing the tip of his nose and pulling him in close. You pulled a blanket up over his waist to give him some cover, to which he hummed his appreciation and nuzzled in to your chest, sleep catching the both of you and luring you into its embrace.

#astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion headcanons #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion smut #astarion fluff #x reader

[lixie-phoria]

comforting bf!hyunjin

requested : yes | genre : angst with a happy ending | word count : 0.6k

Can I request y/n talking Hyunjin down from a breakdown and being there for him when he feels kinda numb after and helping him brush his hair, eat, and just being there for him through a hard time

an: this is my first time writing smth like this and I'm not sure how much I like how it's turned out :')

"Hyunjin. Let me in, please"

How long had it been? Half an hour? An hour? You weren't sure as you leaned your forehead against the door, cursing the locked barrier.

"Leave me alone."

His voice was raw, punctuated only by the soft sound of his stifled sobs.

"Jinnie, please. I want to help. Tell me what's wrong."

You were met with silence.

Hyunjin's practice had run late that night.

He'd been down for the past few days, so you stayed up to make sure he wouldn't return home to a cold, dark hall. But you hadn't expected him to storm in at 2 a.m, hair a mess and tear stains running down his cheeks. He didn't even give you a chance to speak. The first thing he'd done was lock himself into your shared bedroom, trying to muffle his sobs, but they seeped into the silence of the hall anyways.

"Babe, what's wrong? Did I do something?"

"No."

"Then let me in, please."

His reply was a strangled sob. "I don't want you seeing me like this. I'm a mess"

"I don't care how you look, hyunjin. I want to make sure you're alright."

It's a while before you hear the lock click, and you're on your feet immediately, pushing the door open to find your boyfriend seated at the foot of your bed, head in his hands and body shaking from sobs.

the sight broke your heart.

You're by his side in an instant, wrapping your arms around him as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, a fresh wave of sobs escaping him.

"What's wrong, hyune?"

"Do you love me?"

His question hung in the air, delicate and heart-wrenching.

"Of course I do. I love you. So much."

"But why?"

You rested your temple against his, sorrow digging a dagger into your heart. You hated seeing him like this.

"Where is all of this coming from?"

His hold around you tightens, but he doesn't answer.

"Is it the haters?"

You knew you had guessed correctly when he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"that's not healthy. you know that. let me help you, please."

"not today."

you sighed. you don't want to push it. he'll come around eventually, he always does.

"how about in the morning?"

he nods silently as you finally turn your body to face his, gently taking his face in your hands.

"you know i love you, right? i love you no matter what. always."

he leans into your touch, eyes closing. "thank you."

"And you are not the opinion of someone who doesn't know you."

Though he couldn't see it, a soft smile plays at your lips as you press a kiss to his furrowed brow.

"do you want to eat something?"

"it's 3 in the morning."

"screw that."

that earns a small chuckle from him as he meets your gaze, warm brown orbs staring into yours.

"thank you," he repeats.

"you don't have to thank me, hyune."

you help him up from the floor, standing on your toes to tuck the lose strands that had escaped from his hair tie.

"i didn't think you'd stay with me after seeing me like this."

"i'll stay with you no matter what."

As the night slowly yielded to the first hints of dawn, you found yourselves nestled together on the bed. Hyunjin's breathing had steadied, and his weary eyes met yours with a newfound warmth.

"We're in this together, always," you whisper, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

At that moment, a meteorite could've come crashing down upon the earth, but what mattered was that you were in his arms. safe.

tags : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @laylasbunbunny (send an ask to be added/removed)

©lixie-phoria, 2023

#hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x you #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #hyunjin angst #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #hyunjin fluff #stray kids comfort #skz comfort #bangchan #lee know #changbin #han jisung #felix #seungmin #jeongin

[darealsaltysam]

I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT

below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this

oh my god okay okay where do i even start

opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up

watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok

this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!

i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis

arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie

but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.

i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.

the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this

OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD

jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed

the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH

all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!

once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM

rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it

the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that

okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT

FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER

stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET

just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT

when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.

the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd

GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.

dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.

and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell

speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing

what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah

special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast

WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL

the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS

a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!

anyway. back to the horrors.

i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP

i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me

chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!

SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING

TIMOTHEE

FUCKING

CHALAMET

listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.

he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing

paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting

like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different

what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!

also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg

when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us

also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore

have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her

okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive

chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much

THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD

IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL

THE WORMS

THE SENSE OF SCALE

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY

THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME

THE SOUND

EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL

the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell

every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis

gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3

the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall

i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell

i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3

OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO

HERE WE GO YALL

THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK

THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!

THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start

okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys

paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around

i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more

i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?

but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.

oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.

theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point

another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!

this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani

chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"

i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.

sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #paul atreides #chani kynes #jessica atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #rabban harkonnen #vladimir harkonnen #stilgar #alia atreides #irulan corrino #im so crazy im so feral holy shit #okay im going to bed now #its 1 am lmao #ive been writing these down for like 2 hours since i got back

[moon-rivr]

still beating

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: cheating, pregnancy, mention of abortion, brief mention of sex, asshole mig, and angst

author’s note: i had the urge to write some angst but i’ll be getting back to requests after this one. idk if i wanna make a second part yet 😭

word count: 4.1K

You felt your heart wrench in your chest, the pieces slowly starting to shatter when you opened the door to see Miguel with another woman in your bed. The container of cookies that you'd been planning on surprising him with fell to the floor, crumbs clattering all over the floor beneath your feet. All you could do was just stare in horror as the man who claimed he loved you thrusted into another woman with a newfound vigor that he never seemed to have with you.

You looked over at the woman bouncing on his cock like there's no tomorrow, your eyes widening at the realization of who she was. She was one of the recruits who'd been too flirty with your man, batting her lashes and trailing her hand up his arm every time he was in her vicinity. You'd expressed your concerns to him, getting pushed away with a laugh and a kiss on the cheek. "Come on, she's just an apprentice. Tu sabes que nomas tengo ojos para ti," he used to tell you and you willingly believed the words. (you know i only have eyes for you)

The first time that you noticed him acting weirdly was in a mission against one of the vulture variants, taking the extra time to make sure that she was doing okay. He'd helped her in a way that he'd never helped other recruits, not even you when you were starting out. He spoke to her in a reassuring manner, assuring her that the fate of the multiverse didn't lie solely on her mistakes. It was a clear contrast from the way that he used to teach you, telling you that your mistakes could cost the lives of thousands and even ruin the delicate equilibrium between the universes. You wanted to assure yourself that you were being jealous just because of the way that you acquired a relationship with him, but you couldn't help but notice the longing glances that she gave him.

"Miguel, I don't trust that recruit. She looks at you like a love sick puppy," you told him, hoping that he would take your feelings into consideration and create some distance between them. “You're overreacting, mi amor. You know that there's nobody that could make me feel the same way that you did. I even left my ex-girlfriend for you, so why do you think that I would give that up?" He responded, holding your chin in his grasp as he gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Are you even listening to me? I’m not saying that i'm worried about you, I'm just worried about the way that she keeps looking at you," you tried to elaborate but he simply ordered you to get back to work.

You could see the way that she dumbed herself down to receive more help from Miguel, shooting a wink in your direction every time that she managed to pry him away from you. You felt powerless, unable to prove the fact that the woman was obviously feeling an amount of attraction towards Miguel. Even if you could prove it, you weren't too sure that he would even care about how you felt towards the situation. So you simply pushed every red flag that came your way, silently hoping that she wouldn't be stupid to try anything with him. You could see the carefully crafted walls he'd built around himself crumbling with every giggle that came out of her mouth, your hopes only slowing down what seemed to be the inevitable.

The conversation of cheating had come up once between your friend group, and in between laughter, you stated that you would simply beat both his and her ass for even thinking about doing that. All you could do now though, was stare in horror as the woman's walls clenched around your boyfriend every time that she moved up and down his cock. "Are you gonna stare or are you gonna join us?" The high pitched moan of the girl and Miguel's words snapped you from your thoughts, your face void from any expression. While you were planning on taking your misery out on a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream later on, you refused to let them see how much it affected you.

"Why would you do this to me?" You asked him, completely dumbfounded at the events taking place. You hated the way that your voice sounded, so small and broken, expecting yourself to let your anger seep through with every word uttered. "You led me to this situation. Been denying me for so long that I had to take manners into my own hands," he responded, his thrusts halting to a stop once he took the chance to look at you. You let out a small scoff, surprised by the amount of audacity he held despite the fact he'd just been caught having an indiscretion. "I led you to this? You cannot be serious right now."

He tapped the woman's leg, getting her off him as she reached over to cover herself with no shame in her expression. "Look baby, I can forgive you denying me the opportunity to have sex with you if you're willing to forget about this little.. incident," he told you, standing up and taking your chin so you'd look up at him. You couldn't help it though, the moment that you looked into his eyes, you no longer saw the man that you'd once fallen in love with but instead the expression of pleasure that was contorted on his face when you stepped in. "Forgive me? Did you hit your head standing up? I don't want anything to do with you."

"I was the best thing that ever happened to you, don't delude yourself into thinking otherwise. Give it a second thought, nena. You know you can't find someone like me anymore," you heard behind you while your hand lingered on the doorknob, about to exit the scene. "Think about it clearly. Who do you think is going to love you the same way that I did?" He added salt to the injury, painting you as someone unlovable. "Now you're being the delusional one for thinking that I want to find someone like you ever again," you responded, shutting the door with more force than necessary on your way out. You heard a loud groan behind you, the scuffling sounds of clothes being tossed around.

A part of you selfishly longed that he would come chase after you, get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness so you waited outside to see if the door would open. You weren't sure if you were expecting an apology for being taken like a fool or for the act that had taken place, but that didn't stop you from wanting him to tell you that he was sorry. The door remained locked, the volume of the moans rising in intensity like they knew you were still out there. Rain started to pour but as much as you wanted to move, your feet remained stuck in the ground like cement. You just wanted him to say the words 'I'm sorry' but the only thing that you received standing there was hearing him say, "Ay Dios, such a good pussy. Unlike anything I've had before."

Only when you were across the street from his house is that you allowed yourself the opportunity to cry, for everything that you longed for and would never obtain again. You couldn't help but blame yourself the slightest bit, for wanting to trust the words of a renowned cheater so badly. Even though your relationship with him essentially started the same way, going from being a fresh recruit at the spider society to snaking your way under Miguel's bedsheets every time you got the chance. The excitement of getting caught by his girlfriend at the time was too much for you to want to stop the affair the two of you were in, and you couldn't help but fall in love with him with every caress and whisper he shared with you.

You wanted to believe so badly that he was right, that you weren't anything like any of his previous girlfriends and that you were something special to him. It was one of the reasons that you forced yourself to be that exciting new prospect for miguel, pushing yourself past your limits just for the sake of keeping him interested in you. And now you had nothing to prove for the fact that you'd been with him apart from the pregnancy test in the pocket of your hoodie. You'd gone over to his place to tell him that you were pregnant, the frosting on the cookies that you were wielding spelling out the words.

As you got back home, you couldn't help the thoughts that were tormenting your brain since you'd left. You started doing a re-run of the relationship that you had with Miguel, starting to wonder where it was that it all went wrong. What he said was true, you had been denying him sex for a while now but you'd been so tired coming back from missions lately. There'd been a surplus of anomalies to deal with, the numbers only starting to decrease today. You'd hoped that he would be understanding since he was the one who was assigning these missions, but the hope was short lived.

You tried to think about the events that led up to this, trying to look at things from a normal perspective rather than the rose-colored perspective you were happily living in. You noticed him acting a bit strangely, but you'd dismissed it due to him being stressed with the vast quantities of anomalies that he had to deal with. You remembered offering him a blowjob a week ago while on a phone call, wanting to spend some time with him at his office before the two of you got too busy. He'd rejected your offer, light giggles coming from the distance. You realized that they were having fun at your expense, having gone through with the affair at least for a week now.

Entering your apartment felt like a stab in your heart since you'd lit up a candle that he'd taken a liking to before you left, the lingering aroma only providing you with memories of the relationship. Your sheets still weirdly smelled like remnants of his cologne, the smell of his shampoo lingering onto the pillow next to yours. As much as you tried not to think about him too much, every single thing in your apartment only reminded you and the relationship. Even the clothes in your closet were mixed around with his, the scent of his body wash from when he'd stayed over sticking to your clothes.

Showing up to work the next day felt more of an obligation that something that you used to look forward to, stares from your fellow spiders following you throughout the building. You'd done your best to ignore them when you were starting out with Miguel, ignoring their glares and their whispered voices as they called you a 'homewrecker.' Now that you didn't have Miguel's reassuring presence, you were solely depending on your ability to be able to ignore them. They all stared at you the same way that you felt, like a toy that had just finished fulfilling its use and was now tossed off to the side.

You weren't sure if it was the morning sickness or the fact that the recruit had her hand wrapped around Miguel's arm as he started to give the report on what to do today but just the mere sight of it had you wanting to throw up. Your eyes locked with Miguel, a small flash of guilt appearing on his features before his face contorted back to its normal state. You almost wanted to roll your eyes as the recruit batted her lashes up at him, staring at him like he held all the answers but you were pretty certain that you used to look at him the same way. Some of the other spider recruits turned to look at you at the sight and you could only wish that the earth would swallow you alive.

Coming back from your mission didn't provide you with the comfort that you'd needed, your forehead bleeding from a small gash that you'd gotten fighting. You'd been so focused on other aspects of your life to notice the piece of rubble that was aimed straight for your head. Luckily enough, one of the many Peters was present to warn you about it and the piece only managed to scratch you up slightly. You sat down at the nurse's table, noticing her eyes widen slightly at the sight of you but she quickly suppressed the surprise on her face. She applied some alcohol on the wound and cleaned it up, trusting your healing to do the rest.

You walked down the halls of the society to go to the cafeteria, having a bit of a craving for a burger. Seeing Miguel walking on the other side of the hall made you hold a breath, your footsteps getting faster. You figured that you were getting these dirty looks because they wouldn't dare do to that their boss, but the admiration on the rest of the spiders' face was starting to get ridiculous. "Miguellll, hi baby!" The woman from earlier announced, slotting herself next to him. You felt tears starting to sting when you saw him wrap his arm around her shoulders, holding her close the same way that he used to do to you.

The thoughts of having an abortion circulated through your brain while you sat alone, angrily biting into the burger with Miguel's face on it. While you doubted the ability of actually being able to go through this pregnancy by yourself, the thought of getting rid of the fetus just seemed too drastic to actually go through. Or at least, that was what you established as the main reason behind continuing with the pregnancy. The truth was, that despite everything that Miguel had done to you, you couldn't help but want a small piece of him with you. The idea of even having the slightest bit of him reflected on the baby was just enough for you to push those thoughts away.

You felt dirty sitting down on the floors of the bathroom, your head buried into your hands as you stifled the sobs threatening to come out through your throat. You looked up when someone knocked on the door, wiping away the tears dripping down your cheeks as you stood up. “I didn't mean to disturb but I was just wondering if you were okay," Gwen told you, standing there awkwardly with her hands in her pocket. You'd never focused too much on trying to build a relationship with any of your co-workers, stuck in the belief that you didn't care what anyone thought about you as long as you had Miguel so you appreciated the bit of kindness that she had to share.

"Not really," you offered, wiping your face so as to not appear too disheveled in front of her. "Would you like to talk about it?" She then asked you, looking a bit uncomfortable to be stuck playing therapist. Lucky for her, you didn't feel like explaining that the reason that you felt so upset was that your boyfriend had cheated on you. "Not really," you repeated, rubbing the back of your head awkwardly as another Spider-Woman came into the bathroom. You'd expected Gwen to walk off after that but the girl simply looked at you with understanding, realizing that you couldn't put the way that you were feeling into words yet. "Me and Hobie were actually about to go practice guitar for a little while, but there's a drum kit if you want to try that out."

Hitting a drum until most of your frustrations faded away seemed like a healthier coping mechanism than your usual ones, so you agreed and went with Gwen into her dimension. Gwen and Hobie had left to a secluded area to practice their guitar in peace, leaving you alone with your thoughts and sticks in your hands. While the sounds that were being elicited by your fury weren't exactly melodic, the drum certainly provided you with a feeling of peace with every smack that you took. The sounds of the strings of the guitar melted in with the off pitch sound of the drums, the sound of chaos weirdly providing you with the relief that you needed.

You'd been hitting the drums for what seemed to be forever, losing yourself into the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins when Gwen stepped in through the door. "Sorry to disturb your sesh, it seemed like you were really getting it on in there but we have to head back. Something about a mission, you okay to get back on your own?" Gwen asked you, standing by the doorframe as she peeked her head into the room. "I think I'll stay for a little while, but thank you for offering. I appreciate you for letting me crash here," you responded, stopping so she could hear you properly. After a couple minutes that Gwen had left, you departed as well since you'd felt that you'd gotten the relief that you needed.

You tried your best to get yourself to hate him, burning his clothes and ripping every photograph of the two of you but no matter how much you tried, you couldn't get yourself to hate him. It'd be easier for yourself if you could, because hating him seemed like the better alternative than loving him to the point it was starting to hurt you. But the truth was, that even if you could've predicted what happened between the both of you, you're not too sure that you would do anything different regardless. While you despised feeling like a discarded piece of trash, the amount of happiness that he provided you for the time he did was too euphoric for you to give up.

You were planning on just to relax after finishing up with the task of getting rid of his stuff, a knock on your door putting all your plan to a halt. You opened the door to see Miguel standing there, his arms folded across his chest with an uncomfortable expression. "Come in," you mumbled, stepping back and opening the door wider so he could come in. You figured that you were at least due for an explanation so you were willing to open the door just to get the closure that your poor heart needed. He came into the house, maneuvering his way the same way he used to do. You stood at the door in a bit of shock, closing the door and standing at a distance from him.

"I wanted to come here and apologize to you. I shouldn't have cheated on you and i'm deeply sorry for any hurt that I might've caused you," he spoke up after a couple seconds, his apology sounding like something rehearsed. You stayed quiet, gesturing for him to continue as you let the words seep in. "And for the way that I talked to you, it wasn't right of me to disrespect you. I don't know what you want me to say though, you knew that I was a cheater when I first met you and even if I wanted to stop, I can't," he added, his figure looming over yours in the small apartment. You couldn't help the small scoff that escaped from your throat once he finished talking.

"You couldn't stop your cheating tendencies just because you're wired that way, are you serious?" You asked him, your voice slightly raising as you walked closer. "I should've known that chasing a relationship with you would've ended the same way as always and I'm sorry. You were always too good to me," he responded, looking everywhere in the room except for your face. "No, you don't get to do this. You don't get to come into my house and paint yourself as the victim. Take some accountability for once in your damn life!" You screamed at him, unable to keep the rage brewing inside of you at bay.

"Fine, you want me to take accountability? The truth is that I got bored. I got bored in the same monotony that we were living in and I sought out for that type of excitement that you'd given me when we started out. There was nothing wrong with you, nothing wrong with you denying me sex either. It was just me needing to do something stupid and reckless," he spoke up after a while, finally looking at you in the eye. You let out a small sigh of relief, finding some solace in the fact that he was finally being honest with you without using any manipulation tactics. "You could've communicated that with me, y'know? We could've worked something out."

Miguel took a deep breath, almost like he hadn't given any thought to the alternative solutions available. "I took the easy out and I'm sorry for that. I also wanted to detach myself from you, I didn't want any interference in what your canon event would be," he added, making you lose all hope for the progress that the two of you had made so far. You knew how much he prioritized the maintaining of the canon, but you weren't expecting for him to use it to justify his cheating. "You can't be serious right now. I don't want you to excuse your cheating. I just want you to give me an explanation," you told him, speaking much quieter than last time.

"There is no other explanation apart from the fact that I was just simply bored and she provided me with the relief that I was seeking. Truth is, I can't even stand her that much. If I could've guessed that it would hurt you this badly, I wouldn't have bothered to do it," he played with his hands as he spoke, seemingly nervous. "Guess it was my form of karma," you muttered, a dry chuckle eliciting from your throat as you looked away. "Mira, I know that nothing I do is going to remove the fact that I cheated on you. But I do want you to give me another chance, please. I promise that we could make this work this time, I promise that if I try hard enough I could fall in love with you again," he told you, the words making your eyes widen.

It felt futile trying to deny yourself that Miguel had given you a new experience to relationships, allowing you to lose yourself in him and the time that you spent together. But the more that you thought about it, the more that you realized that you couldn't go back to him no matter how much you wanted to. You craved the intimacy that he once had given you, but even as you looked at him now, you couldn't stop picturing the woman that'd been on top of him just a couple days prior. The decision wasn't made for your sake, more so for the sake of the way that this turbulent relationship would affect the unborn child.

"I never had to try to love you, Miguel," you simply told him, your heart shattering even more with every second that passed. "I'm sorry but I can't do that. I’ll always appreciate everything that you showed me and everything that you did for me, and I'll always love you at some degree even if I try not to. But I can't be in a relationship with you now," you added, seeing his expression darken a bit at being rejected. "I'm not asking for you to be in a relationship with you, but I am asking you to give you a chance. Please, te lo suplico," he told you, getting on his knees as he held your hands in between his. (i beg of you) He leaned in his head towards your stomach, looking at you with such a vulnerability in his eyes. It took you a lot of self-restraint to be able to deny him, especially when he put himself in this position. "Please just go."

After he left your apartment, you felt a sort of weight lift up from your shoulders at the relief that things had gone moderately well between the two of you given the circumstances. As much as you wanted to get back into the dating world to help you get over the love that remained for Miguel, you knew deep down that you would only be dating solely to replicate the feelings that you experienced with him. The fact that he told you that he could love you if he tried hard enough stuck with you, your hands gripping around the teddy bear you were holding with more force. But despite the short lived anger that you'd felt towards him, you felt some peace knowing his reasoning for the indiscretion wasn’t out of spite for you.

#moon-rivr #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miguel fic #miguel imagine #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel ohara #miguel fanfic #miguel 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman smut

[sports-on-sundays]

people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

#"f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula1 #charles leclerc #charles lecerc x reader #leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #sharl leclerc #sky sports f1 #ferrari f1 #ferrari #charles #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula racing #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

[mixtape-racha]

boyfriend!park sunghoon thoughts

(a/n: this is for the anon who requested the first enha ver of this in my asks!) | sfw and nsfw below the cut

warnings:

sfw

boyfriend!sunghoon who always plans the most aesthetic dates and your instagram truly thanks him for it - whether it be an evening picnic in the sunset, or the aquarium, or even pumpkin picking

boyfriend!sunghoon who complains he might die if you don't have a matching/similar outfit !! like fr this man could be the other side of the globe and he's spamming you for outfit pics so he can match with you

boyfriend!sunghoon who looooves being your sous chef in the kitchen, even though most of the time he just ends up getting in the way :( he tries though, bless him

boyfriend!sunghoon who comes and sits in your home offices while you're working, usually reading a book or scrolling on his phone silently. he just liked being near you whenever he can

boyfriend!sunghoon who brings you bowls of fruit as a snack, and said fruit has usually been cut into cute shapes like stars and hearts - although, he ends up eating most of it

boyfriend!sunghoon who makes sure to stand the side closest to the road when you walk down the street together, like honestly he'll just tug you to the other side of him so you're not standing near the road, and its usually subconsciously

boyfriend!sunghoon who sends you the cutest, most heart-warming, gut-wrenching, soul-crushing selfies of his little smile when he's away on tour - and you keep them all in a folder called "hoon says :D" for when u miss him

boyfriend!sunghoon who enjoys doing your makeup for you !! and he tries so hard :( even going as far as to watch makeup tutorials so you can leave the house "not embarrassed that he's made you look silly"

boyfriend!sunghoon who takes you ice-skating with him at Least once a month <3 and he never laughs at you or teases you if you slip; in fact, he's rushing over to check you for injuries and pepper you in kisses to wash away the embarrassment

boyfriend!sunghoon who has a groupchat with your parents to swap pictures of you for pictures of your family pets <3 and he likes to surprise you by printing the pictures out so you can have new pictures of the pets even when you're away from your parents' home

nsfw

boyfriend!sunghoon who is so precise during sex, hands always in the right place, strokes always hitting your g-spot, and it honestly surprises you every time

boyfriend!sunghoon who refuses to cum unless you cum first !! and if you can't for whatever reason, then he doesn't want to either because its not worth it to him if he doesn't get to see you cum

boyfriend!sunghoon who won't cum anywhere but inside you, because he revels in the way your jaw drops at the feeling of it and your eyes cross

boyfriend!sunghoon who, although he adores fucking you raw, would wear a condom in a heartbeat if you ask him to - sex is all about your comfort and your pleasure to him

boyfriend!sunghoon who started imagining you all swollen and pregnant with his kids from the second date, and he always gets (nearly) unbearably horny when you're ovulating

boyfriend!sunghoon who brought up the idea of using a vibrator on you, and it shocked you because every guy you'd slept with before him had viewed toys as competition rather than a teammate

boyfriend!sunghoon who has a habit of biting down on your collar bone when he cums, almost as if to muffle his moans so he can hear you rather than himself

boyfriend!sunghoon who loves it when you take a bath together and it turns into riding him, even though jungwon always has a go at him for the amount of water that spills

boyfriend!sunghoon who enjoys lazy, half asleep sex more than anything !! laid tangled together, your legs over his hip as he shallowly thrusts, mixed with the sleepy kisses - its his idea of heaven

boyfriend!sunghoon who lost his virginity to you, because he knew you were the one from the moment you met, but has never told you that's the reason why

(a/n: scheduled post!)

-> don’t forget to reblog or comment if you like my works ♡ please refrain from modifying, translating, or copying my work. - © mixtape-racha

tags ✮⋆˙ : @pretty-racha @demetrisscarf @fluerz @bangtancultsposts @yevene

#mixtape-racha #mixtape-racha fic #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x oc #enhypen fanfic #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha #enha imagines #enha scenarios #143 i luv queue ✮⋆˙ #aria: hoon fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹ #aria: enha fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹

[roanniom]

more eddie phone sex more eddie phone sex i am screaming it from the rooftops

Not a Creature Was Stirring

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY!, phone sex / masturbation, dirty talk, light alcohol consumption, light drug use (pot), tiny bit of distance related angst, these idiots are actually pretty sweet so a lil fluffy though it’s filthy? Idk

“So what are you wearing right now?”

“Eddie I’m on the phone in my parent’s kitchen. You can’t be a perv right now,” you chide him in a whisper, but he definitely still hears the smile in your voice.

You’ve been gone for less than 10 hours and yet Eddie is already going out of his mind missing you. Since you’d only been dating for a few months, the two of you agreed that him going home with you for the holidays might be moving a little too soon. You both, however, are bitterly regretting the decision.

“Not being a perv, baby. Just trying to picture you standing there all pretty, happy to talk to me,” Eddie replies. He intends for it to sound teasing, but it comes out just as genuine as he means it. It makes your throat get a little tight.

“Wish I was talking to you in person right now instead.” Your voice is small and his heart skips a bit.

“Me too.”

“This was stupid. Can’t believe I didn’t tell you to just come with me,” you huff, twirling the phone cord around your finger in distress.

“I mean we said it was too soon for the whole meet-the-parents thing,” Eddie reminds you, but his jaw is clenched as he holds back all the things he’d wished he’d said. Like how desperately he wanted to spend this special time of year with you, and how he would have loved the chance to win over the people who you care about most.

“Yeah but we were wrong. Who says there’s a timeline set in stone for this kind of thing anyway?”

“If you weren’t so far away, I’d hop in the van right now and let you know exactly where I want us to be on the timeline,” Eddie declares, feeling bold due to the distance and the fact that you can’t see his face. You laugh, which he’d hoped you would.

“If you weren’t so far away I’d let you.” It comes out shaky. You hadn’t said much but you’d said plenty, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out of nowhere. Eddie can hear it over the phone and he aches with the need to encircle you in his arms. To make any and all bad feelings melt away. He’s desperate to hear you laugh, so he tries his best.

“You can make it up to me by touching yourself and letting me hear some pretty sounds.”

“Eddie!” you say with a hushed squeal. Your eyes dart around to make sure you’re still alone in the kitchen, though nobody would be able to hear him even if they were near.

Eddie barks a laugh.

“It was worth a shot.”

You chew on your lip and contemplate, checking the clock on the wall above the sink.

“If…if you’re still up at midnight I can…maybe call you back from my room,” you saw slowly. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Oh honey, if it means the chance to hear your sweet voice, I won’t be the only thing up at midnight.”

~*~

You’re adorably prompt, calling him back at 12am exactly on the dot. Eddie knows because he had been staring at the clock for the last fifteen minutes, willing time to fold in on itself if it could bring him just a little closer to you.

Eddie wrenches the phone to his face, a massive smile on his lips.

“Hey Princess,” he says, nice and low. Your laughter on the other end is breathless.

“What if it hadn’t been me? What if it was Wayne calling to tell you something?”

“Wayne would survive being called Princess,” he says with a shrug you can’t see. You giggle and Eddie preens. “What has you in such a good mood in the witching hour baby?”

“It’s all you, Eds,” you confirm, keeping your voice soft because of the time. “But I did steal a bottle of wine from my cousins after I said good night and I might have had a few glasses quickly before calling you.”

“Ah, looking for a party, are you?” A thrill runs down Eddie’s spine and he sits up a little straighter in bed, reaching for a pre-rolled joint and a lighter. He’s seen you tipsy before and you’re both adorable and insatiable.

“Yeah. And I was a little nervous,” you add honestly. You’d never talked dirty over the phone before, and even though you’ve had sex with Eddie many times by now, you’re still a little self conscious. Worried you won’t say the right thing or be sexy enough for him.

“Nervous about what? That someone’ll hear? You’re in your room, right?”

“Yeah, the cord from the hall phone was long enough to reach inside here, thank god.”

“So there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ll be quiet, like a good girl, and nobody’ll know that you’ll be touching yourself for me.”

His words go straight between your legs, turning you on even more than the anticipation for this conversation had turned you on. He hears your sharp intake of breath and feels proud. Proud that without even touching you, even from so great a distance, he can still have a physical impact. Eddie strikes his lighter and inhales deeply, breathing his joint to life and taking a good long hit.

“I’m not nervous about people hearing I’m nervous that…” you trail off and Eddie feels apprehension for the first time all night.

“Nervous that what, baby?”

You huff in frustration, words not as easy in your tipsy state while also the excitement in your veins prompts you to get over yourself and stop wasting the time you have with him.

“You so much better at the dirty talk than I am…” you try to continue but he scoffs, cutting you off.

“If you dare say you’re nervous that what you say won’t be hot enough for me, I’ll scream.” Eddie drops the lighter back on his bedside table and scooches down to recline more comfortably now that he’s confident that your concern is silly. “Not to be creepy, but you could just breathe into the receiver while I jerk off and that would be enough to get me to cum my brains out.”

You let out a startled laugh at the absurdity of the statement and Eddie feels accomplished, taking another hit.

“You’re a fucking weirdo,” you respond affectionately.

“Yeah? But I’m your fucking weirdo,” Eddie counters, letting his hand smooth down to the front of his boxers. “And your fucking weirdo is hard as a rock right now, so is there anything you want to do about that?”

“Well…” you begin, getting comfortable in your bed despite the blood pounding in your ears, making it harder to hear the rustling of Eddie’s clothes over the phone. “If I was there…I’d probably tell you to get those boxers off and out of my way.”

“How did you know I still had my boxers on?” Eddie chuckles.

“Because I can hear you touching yourself through them. And because you always like doing things the hard way.”

“So, so hard Princess,” Eddie muses, pulling them off. “Ok, I’m naked for you. Boxers off as requested, ma’am. Now I repeat the question that I asked earlier - what are you wearing right now?”

“I’m wearing your Dio shirt. The one you left at my place last week,” you whisper sheepishly. Eddie swells with pride (and something close to possessiveness).

“You’re in my shirt and I can’t even see you? That’s cruel, baby,” he pretends to be cross. “Ok my Dio shirt and what else?”

“Nothing else,” you reply.

“So if I asked you to put your hand between those pretty little legs you’d be able to tell me how wet you are for me right now real easy?”

You do as he’d mentioned, bringing your hand down to gather your waiting slick.

“I’m really wet for you right now, Eds.”

“Good. Can you rest the phone on your shoulder or the pillow or something so both your hands are free?” he asks, doing the same thing himself as you move to follow his instructions. He holding his joint up in the air while getting a glob of lotion from the bottle on his nightstand, bringing it down to slide over the shaft of his cock. It adds a smooth glide to his motions that makes him swallow a moan.

“Something I should be doing with these two free hands, handsome?” you ask. You’re really pushing yourself here, trying to be confident in spite of the nerves. Eddie appreciate it and silently vows to make it so worth your while.

“Yeah. Take one and play with that little button I love so much. And the other one…tease your nipple with it through my shirt.”

You do as he says, rubbing circles into your clit, sending ripples of pleasure to your extremities. Your other hand presses and teases at your nipple through your shirt, making it harden from the friction of the material. You hum at the feeling and Eddie chuckles.

“Good, baby?”

“Really good. But not as good as it would have been with your hands.”

“No? Well why don’t you go and put two of those fingers inside you right now. Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

You slide your middle and ring fingers inside your tight entrance, finding little resistance with how wet you are. Your other hand squeezed your breast more fully as you find a rhythm moving your fingers in and out of yourself.

“What about you? Are you…jerking off?” You ask shakily. You hadn’t been joking when you’d insisted he was better at dirty talk. Eddie usually talked all night long, leaving you with no obligations beyond feeling fucking incredible, moaning, and occasionally responding with a “yes! Yes!” or a “feels so good!” when prompted.

Eddie chuckles over the phone at your attempt, but the sound makes warmth spread through your body, rather than the embarrassment you’d assumed you’d feel. Apparently you’re too turned on to feel anything other than desire for him.

“Jerking off is a little crude. I’m not exactly a horny fifteen year old here, baby,” he admonished jokingly, abandoning his joint in the near by ashtray. You can hear the shick shick shick over the phone though and your stomach swoops. Of course he’s all lubed up. You know Eddie likes it wet. “I am, however, stroking my cock to the thought of your sweet pussy.”

“Oh god,” you whisper and Eddie laughs again. Your free hand abandons your tits and comes down to play with your clit as you add a third finger into your hole. Still not enough to recreate the stretch of Eddie’s fingers, let alone his cock, but still, better than nothing.

“Mmm what did you change? What’s got you moaning like that?” Eddie prompts. You feel heat spread through your body.

“I…I added another finger,” you admit and Eddie all but growls.

“That’s what I’m talking about. I know my baby likes to be stuffed full.”

“It’s not enough, Eds,” you whine then, and his heart wrenches. His instinct to give you something, more, everything hitches in his throat and he’s fucking his fist in earnest.

“Well then what will help? You got a toy there or anything that’ll feel…I don’t know, fucking more like me?” he laughs. You let out a frustrated laugh too.

“No, I don’t have a massive dildo just laying around at my parents house, Eddie.”

Eddie groans and squeezes himself even harder to stave off the urge to cum suddenly.

“Oh fuck, say more about how my dick is massive.”

“I didn’t say your dick is massive,” you say rolling your eyes, but thrusting your fingers in and out of yourself faster nonetheless. “I was talking about a dildo -,”

“I know what you meant, baby. No need to get coy with me now.” Eddie’s voice is hoarse. He’s trying his best not to cum, but something about your desperation, the sound of your voice (and if he’s being honest with himself, probably the weed), is bringing him all the way to the brink.

“Okay you’re right,” you say, finally letting go, circling your clit with abandon and bucking your hips to meet your hand, simulating what it feels like to meet Eddie’s thrusts. “Your dick is massive and perfect and I wish I was bouncing on it right now.”

Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Ah, so you’ve been picturing yourself on top?”

“You’ve been picture yourself on top?” you counter.

“Well yeah,” he admits. “But I just needed a visual, baby. I can flip us over in my head,” he adds with humor.

“No tell me what you were thinking,” you ask, you voice suddenly quieter, strained. You’re so close, desperate to cum with him. The way he wants you.

Eddie rolls so that he’s no longer on his back, his knees now digging into the mattress. He braces himself with one hand by where your head would be if you were there, his other moving furiously up and down his cock, tugging in down strokes that would have him bucking right into your pussy.

“I’m thinking about what its like when you’re under me and I fuck you so hard, every part of you jiggles. And those tits. Fuck.”

Eddie loses himself for a moment, grunting through the feeling of fucking himself. Imagining you there with him.

“You always take me so well, Princess. You’d take me so well, huh?”

“Yeah. I’d…I’d be so good for you, Eddie,” you whimper.

“I know you would be, baby. You make it so easy to just sink right in and just…fuck. Just give you everything I’ve got.” He’s so fucking close now he can feel his balls tightening, heavy and waiting.

“I-I want it,” you whine, voice cracking.

“What do you want princess? Tell me,” he commands gently. His hips are thrusting down towards the mattress now and he’s right on the edge of combusting.

“You,” you say, your voice small. Almost silent as all of your energy and focus zeros in on the tension building in your core, ready to snap. “Fuck…want you. Wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad Eddie.”

“Cum, baby. Come on and cum for me.” His tone is desperate, and the breathlessness is what has you tipping over the edge. The sound of your quiet moans, as your walls spasm and tighten around your own fingers, is what does him in. Eddie, free to be much louder alone in his trailer, cums with a deep groan that passes over the phone lines, through your ear and directly into your cunt, making your clit pulse anew beneath your frantically rubbing fingers.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” he finally mutters, sounding hoarse and wrecked when he finally drops onto his back on the bed, letting his softening cock fall from his grasp, spent. He hears your weak giggle over the phone and smiles.

“Hope you get everything you want for Christmas this year, Eds,” you whisper, fondness swelling inside you and evident in your voice.

“Oh Princess,” Eddie says with a chuckle, throwing an arm over his eyes and breathing deeply to help himself settle in the come down of his high. He wishes almost bitterly that you were in his arms right now, cuddling in the afterglow, but that sound of your voice on the line and the promise of your impending return keep his heart light. “I’ve already got all I could ever ask for.”

~*~

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #issa’s writing day #stranger things smut #eddie munson discourse

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Predator

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: You are obsessed with Jonathan Crane. And tonight, you're finally going to show him just how much you love him - even if he might not remember the encounter. But when things don't go according to plan, you are the one forced to deal with the consequences. Not that you're complaining...

Warnings: DUB-CON smut (the con is extremely dub on both sides here, folks), mentions of non-con, stalking, yandere!reader, loss of control, mind games, needles, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex work, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, degradation, praise, name-calling, multiple orgasms

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Your heels tap against the tile, clicking like a raptor’s talons, as you make your way across the hotel lobby. You smile, leaning over the counter to talk to the concierge, and try to look a little embarrassed.

“I'm so sorry to bother you,” you say. The hotel clerk is staring, not quite subtly, at your breasts, which is exactly where you want him to look. “But I seem to have lost my room key. May I have another one?”

The clerk collects himself; puts on his business voice as his fingers poise above his keyboard.

“Of course,” he replies. “Name on the reservation?”

“Crane. Jonathan.”

The clerk types rapidly for a moment, and then looks back at you.

“I'm sorry, miss, but I'm only showing one person on this reservation. You're not, ah…”

“Mmm.” You smile. “My boyfriend is here on a business trip. Speaking at the big conference in town. I'm not… exactly supposed to be here with him. I'm sure he wouldn't have told his work I'd be staying with him.”

Your voice drops just a bit lower, hinting at conspiracy. You consider winking, but decide against it. No need to oversell things.

“Boyfriend. Is that right?” the hotel clerk drawls. He looks you up and down briefly.

Rage flashes white hot behind your eyes, there and gone too fast for him to notice. This man assumes that you're some kind of prostitute. You can see it on his face, and it angers you. You're infuriated that he doesn't believe what you’ve told him. Though of course, it's not as if you're telling the truth. 

“That's right,” you agree, pleasantly. “And I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a rush. I'm dying to get out of this dress.”

You only have to act a little. The tight black dress you're wearing really is uncomfortable, but to play the part you have to dress the part. And besides, you want to look your best tonight.

The image of you undressing seems to be enough to convince the man, who turns back to his computer and starts typing again. You're not proud of throwing yourself around like this. Honestly, you would prefer it if no one but Crane got to enjoy you tonight - even if having him actually see you would throw a wrench into your plans. But you have to do what it takes to get your prize, and you're not above using the tactics that work.

“Could you just confirm the room number for me?” asks the hotel clerk, in a last-ditch effort to preserve some of his professionalism.

“Three-oh-three,” you say with a smile.

The clerk hands over a key card.

“Have a nice night,” he tells you.

You thank him. Snatch the card and walk away, toward the elevators that are waiting like steel traps at the other end of the lobby. That was easier than it should have been. You tuck the card safely into your purse, next to the little syringe and the three condoms. Traveling light tonight. The doors open as you reach the first elevator, as if they were waiting for you.

You smile.

You feel your heart beating heavy in your chest when the elevator doors finally open on your floor. Well, not your floor, really, but Crane’s floor. You've invited yourself, but that doesn't make what's about to happen tonight any less special. 

Before you know it, you're standing in front of his door, the numbers above the peephole staring back at you as you pause for a moment. You're almost lightheaded, just from being here, so close to fulfilling the dream you've had for months.

Jonathan Crane. A genius. A visionary. And the man at the center of your every fantasy. For too long, you've watched him from afar - at first not daring to let yourself dream of having him, but then, slowly, realizing that you have no life without him. That he is the center of your universe, and that your purpose is to trail after him like a desperate satellite. Once you knew that, it became impossible not to be with him. Unbearable to bear spending every day on his periphery when all you wanted was him, him, him. 

You steady yourself. Close your eyes for a few seconds just to savor it. Just being here. Then, you take the card out of your purse and swipe it, quickly tucking it back away before you open the door. The handle turns easily - why wouldn’t it, after all? You are, clearly, meant to be here - despite the fact that you are most certainly not supposed to be here. You step into the room, letting the door close behind you, and take another moment to bask.

“You know, I’d really prefer if you’d knock,” says a voice, suddenly coming from inside the room.

From where you’re standing you can’t see much, but you freeze, instantly. You’re stuck in that strange little hallway that seems to be at the entrance of every hotel room, with just a few coat hangers and a full-length mirror for company. And you can’t move because that’s his voice coming from around the corner. You would recognize it anywhere.

As you stand frozen, two things occur to you. One: it’s strange that Crane sounds like he’s expecting someone. And two: it’s even stranger that he’s here. His schedule says he’s at one of the conference’s dinners right now. You were supposed to have time to prepare. This is not going according to plan.

“I told you,” says a slightly annoyed Crane, his voice getting closer, “that I’d have your money tomorrow. So if you could just-”

His words cut off as he sees you, clearly not whoever he was expecting, and your heart skips at least three beats as you finally come face to face with him. 

“Who are you?” he asks, reasonably.

“O-oh, I’m… terribly sorry,” you reply. Your heart is now hammering at a million miles a minute, making up for lost time. You feel yourself fumbling for words, but manage to wrestle control of your tongue. “I must have the wrong room.”

Crane rakes his eyes over you suspiciously. You can see from the tilt of his head that he doesn’t buy it, and now he’s sizing you up as a threat. You let yourself swoon for just a moment. He’s so intelligent. This is exactly why you’d planned to lie in wait for him; you could never outsmart him and you very likely also couldn’t best him in a fight. Not that you’d ever want it to come to that, but if it did… Well, you doubt you’d be able to keep your mind on self preservation for very long once he got his hands on you.

“How did you get in here?” he presses.

“This is the room they gave me,” you explain. “There must have been some kind of mixup at the front desk.”

It's a slightly different story than the first, but hopefully a more believable one. You open your purse; reach in to pull out the key card and show him. Or maybe you'll go for the syringe. But before your fingers can wrap around anything, Crane snatches your purse and turns swiftly on his heel.

“Hey!”

You follow after him as he strides to the large bed, and dumps out the purse’s contents. The syringe, the condoms, and a few errant bobby pins spill out across the duvet. The key card falls to the floor.

“It’s rude to go through a woman’s purse, you know!” 

Your anger flares in his direction before you can control yourself. You bite your tongue, horrified that you've snapped at him.

“I'd say it's pretty clear that the rules of civility don't apply to you,” Crane retorts, as he reaches for the syringe. “Just what exactly were you planning to do with this?”

“That's… personal?” you mumble.

“Try again.”

God, he's so sexy. How are you supposed to concentrate on getting out of this when his voice is all graveley and dark like that, and he's staring at you with those eyes that look like they could pierce through skin and bone, and-

“Well?”

Crane is growing impatient. You scrabble together your thoughts and open your mouth to speak, plan still only half formed.

“Ah, I mean, that's my medication,” you explain. “It's for… migraines.”

“Hm, really?” Crane replies. “Then you wouldn't mind if I administered it to you.”

“No!” you say, a bit too sharply. 

He's already removed the cap from the needle, and has taken a few steps toward you when your voice rings out. He stops in his tracks, and you swear you can hear your heartbeat thunder around the room. A tense moment of silence passes, before Crane finally speaks again.

“So, this isn't your migraine medication,” he states. “And you're a strange woman who's just shown up in my hotel room, with a purse full of drugs and condoms. I'm calling security.”

Crane calmly walks to the bedside table, stabs the syringe into its wooden surface, and picks up the phone out of its cradle. Your heart rate spikes as he starts to dial.

“Dr. Crane, I don't think you should do that,” you warn.

“And why the fuck is that?”

“Because I don't want to have to tell them… who you really are.”

Crane pauses, and cocks his head at you again. You can feel yourself regaining control of the situation. Like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders; it feels good. So good that you can't help but smile at him as he scrunches his eyebrows together and frowns.

“What do you mean by that?” he asks.

The word passes over your lips like a sin, spreading its venom over your tongue as you say it.

“Scarecrow.”

Crane's eyes widen. You feel red heat rise to your cheeks. He wasn't expecting you to have leverage, and the fact that you've managed to surprise him fills you with an immense pride. 

“Who are you?” Crane asks softly. 

“I'm a fan of your work,” you reply. It might be the first truth you've told all night.

Crane replaces the phone with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks up at you.

“Okay, who are you working for?” he asks. “Who sent you?”

You shake your head.

“No, no, no, Dr. Crane - I mean it,” you giggle. “I heard you speak at a different conference a few months ago, and I… Well, is it crazy to say that I fell in love?”

Crane fixes you with a glare that says, yes, it most certainly is crazy. You don't even notice as you rattle on - Jonathan Crane is your favorite subject, after all.

“From there, I wanted to learn everything about you,” you continue. “Where you live, where you work, where you shop for groceries. Some of it was easier to figure out than the rest, of course, but once I learned your schedule it became clear to me. You spend a lot of time out of the house late-late at night.”

Crane studies you carefully as you go on your monologue, but you're too wrapped up in it to care. 

“So I dug deeper, and guess what I found?” you tease. “Dr. Crane has a secret, and now it's our secret to share. You and me.”

You've closed some of the distance between you, and now Crane is so wonderfully close that you could reach out and brush your fingers against him. You resist, not wanting to scare him away, but look up at him expectantly as you wait for his reaction. You've just laid your heart bare for the first time in forever. He has that effect on you, you guess; it's impossible to deny him anything.

“So you're obsessed with me,” Crane says calmly. “I can't lie; it is kind of flattering.” He smiles. Only for a moment, before his expression turns dark. “But you still haven't told me, what the fuck were you planning to do with this?”

He gestures to the syringe, still sticking up with its needle planted in the bedside table, greenish liquid swirling inside of it. You lower your eyes, suddenly bashful. It feels so utterly silly now; you feel like you've actually started to build up a rapport with him, and you don't want to risk harming Crane’s perception of you. Still, knowing him, it will be worse for you if you don't tell the truth upfront, so you're honest yet again.

“It's a blend of a few things,” you admit. “An aphrodisiac, a relaxant, a very mild sedative. I was planning to use it on you so I could…”

“Rape me?” Crane supplies.

“Don't say it like that!” you beg. It sounds so ugly when he says it that way. “I just wanted to show you my love. I wanted to share it with you. That's not a bad thing, is it?”

You take another step toward him, desperate to show him what you mean. If only he'd let you show him. It would be so good for both of you. As you get closer, Crane backs up until he's sitting on the bed, then leaning back into the mattress. You lean down, trying not to hover over him too much, your fingers barely ghosting the sheets as you plant your arms on either side of his body.

“Please,” you whisper. Crane doesn't look afraid, but he is eyeing you carefully. “Please just let me show you?”

Crane considers the situation for a moment. You wait with bated breath, not daring to let yourself imagine what will happen if he says yes. The room spins as you forget to take in enough oxygen, and you feel yourself dip an inch closer to him.

“If I let you live out your twisted fantasy,” he begins, slowly. “You won't tell anyone about what you said earlier?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” you promise, your smile immediately brightening at his words.

Crane nods, just once. Curtly.

“Fine then,” he says. Your heart explodes in your chest. “But you’re not using that syringe on me. And you're going to do all the work.”

As he's talking, he's already shrugging out of his shirt. You practically drool at the sight of his bare chest; struck with the irresistible urge to drag your fingers over it. You feel yourself smiling wildly. This is so much better than you'd ever imagined it. Your beloved is actually a willing participant! Why had you ever been prepared to settle for anything less?

Crane slowly unbuckles his belt, and then looks at you expectantly. Your fingers feel almost removed from your body as you reach out to pop the button on his pants. None of this feels real; you must be in a dream. You hope he doesn’t notice how much you’re shaking. It wouldn’t do to have him get any ideas about wrestling his way out of this.

“Let’s go through your little plan together,” says Crane, as you tug down his zipper and start to pull on his waistband. “You were going to drug me, knock me out - and then what?”

The only thing separating you from your prize now is the thin cotton of his boxer-briefs. Beneath, you can tell that he’s already half hard. The realization sends a throbbing ache between your legs. The musky scent of his arousal - or maybe it’s yours - starts to seep into the room, and you lick your lips to get a taste of it like a snake.

“Was gonna get you ready for me,” you answer, already slipping into a haze of fantasy.

“How?” Crane asks.

“With my mouth…”

Maybe it’s your imagination, but you swear you see his cock twitch at your words. The air catches in your throat again, and you have to force yourself to take deep breaths through your nose. 

“Go on, then,” Crane prods. “Show me.”

He’s sitting up slouched on the bed, arms bent just a little so he can look down at you as you bring yourself to eye level with his cock. He is definitely getting hard; you don’t even have to do anything to him, honestly. But you want to, and even more important than that - Dr. Crane is telling you to. You can’t deny him.

You pull down the thin fabric, and watch as he springs free. His cock is beautiful - just like you’d imagined it would be. There’s already a bead of precum on the tip, just begging to be licked off. You wrap your lips around him eagerly and worship the head of his cock, tasting the salty tang of him as you kiss it. Lovingly. Gently. That’s what you want to be for him as you part your lips and take him deeper, moaning around his length. 

Crane has other ideas. 

He ruts up into your mouth, letting out an absolutely sinful groan as he does it. The sound has you clenching your thighs for dear life as a wave of arousal and pressure runs through you. You want to touch yourself desperately, but know you need to hold on. There’s no way you’re going to waste the energy to get off on your own fingers tonight.

“Sorry,” Crane says. “Forgot I was supposed to be unconscious.”

You can’t reply with his cock in your mouth, but the biting sarcasm in his voice makes you feel things that are probably best left unsaid. Thank goodness you abandoned your morality a long time ago.

In direct contradiction to what he’s just said, Crane tangles a hand in your hair and starts pressing you further down onto his cock. You gag as the tip of your nose touches him, and let out a muffled whine.

“What, too much for you?” Crane laughs. “I thought you wanted to get me ready.”

You try not to whimper as you nod your head. You can feel your mascara starting to run as tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and try to blink them back in. Once you’re composed enough to refocus, you start to swirl your tongue against him. Crane’s grip on the back of your head tightens, and you feel a sense of pride swell in you, pressing down the panic. This is exactly what you wanted - to make him feel good. To show him your devotion. You bob your head, pushing past the point of your own comfort to take him as deep as you can.

He lets your throat clench around him for a few minutes before he abruptly pulls you off. Your mouth makes a wet pop as it sucks around nothing, and you look up at your beloved with something that borders on sadness and lust.

“What next?” he demands. “I know you didn’t just come here to suck me off like a cheap whore.”

You stand up and try to collect yourself. Wipe the spit that’s pooled at the base of your chin. Organize your thoughts into some semblance of an intelligible response.

“Want to… to feel you inside me,” you pant.

“Of course you do,” Crane says. He has something in his hand, and he holds it up to show you. The condoms. “You even came prepared. But, let’s not pretend for even a second that you were actually going to use these.”

He throws the roll of condoms behind him, and they disappear somewhere over the side of the bed. Your mouth is hanging open in shock, and Crane smirks at your disbelief. 

“It’s not fun if there’s not a little risk, right?” he says. “Don’t tell me that’s not why you came here in the first place - to get off on the thrill of doing something dangerous.”

“I… I came here for you,” you insist. 

Though it is getting harder and harder to think straight as Crane slips himself fully out of his lingering clothes. When he’s done with that, he moves on to reaching up and grabbing at the zipper on your dress. He pauses with his hands at the back of your neck.

“And what drew you to me in the first place?” he presses. “You know I’m a dangerous man. You know my deepest, darkest secret. But instead of scaring you away, it only pushes you closer. You can’t resist the fear that you feel at the thought of being near me. Wanna know something? I think, deep down, you wanted to get caught.”

Your head is already spinning too much to comprehend what he’s saying. All you know is that his voice has dropped several octaves and it’s making you incredibly, almost painfully, wet. Your eyes roll back in your head as Crane tugs at your zipper and helps you slip out of your dress. Your bra and panties are black lace, and Crane seems to admire them for a moment before unclasping the hooks and pulling off your bra.

“You’re pretty fucking twisted, but you do have a nice rack,” he comments. “I’ll let you take care of the rest.”

With shaking fingers, you slide the lacy waistband over your hips, relishing the soft scratch of fabric as it moves down your thighs. Once they’re pooled on the floor, you step delicately out of your panties, and look down at Crane, still sitting on the bed in front of you.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he says. “I warned you that you’d have to do all the work.”

You straddle him, moving a bit too fast in your eagerness. You’re getting clumsy, but you don’t care. Planting your hands on his shoulders, you feel the way he glides into you as you lower yourself. So insanely good. The stretch as his cock is buried inside of you makes you see stars. You gasp, and then moan as your hips reach his.

“Feels better this way, right?” Crane teases. “A little risk always makes freaks like you cum faster.”

“Mmhmm,” you agree, barely listening to what he’s saying. 

“Go ahead and get yourself off,” Crane says. It almost sounds like a challenge. “Use me like a glorified dildo, just like you wanted.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you start moving, bouncing up and down on his cock as you chase your high. Crane stays still, letting you do all the work just like he said he would. You grind into him, desperate for friction against your clit, and wish more than anything that he’d reach up and play with your nipples. It’s a lewd thought, but you’re so far gone that you don’t care anymore, and eventually you move your hands to pinch them yourself.

The air in the room is getting hotter; thick with sex and filled with moans as you get closer and closer to your release. Crane stares at you, somehow managing to keep a straight face while he watches you fuck yourself on his dick. You press yourself close as you can as you grind down again.

“Gonna come!” you whine. 

And then you do; waves of pleasure crashing over you as the coil in your stomach finally lets go. Your legs shake, both your eyes squeeze shut, and you have to hold onto Crane’s shoulders to keep from falling right off the bed as you gush onto him. 

You’re panting with exertion as you come down from the high. Brain still foggy from the rush of endorphins and the elation of finally fulfilling your fantasy. And the best part is knowing that Crane got to feel all of it. The way you clenched around him; the way you screamed, shameless, as your love for him coated his cock. Getting to share the moment like this was better than you’d ever dared to dream of.

“Good girl,” Crane says. “Now do it again.”

Your eyes shoot open in disbelief. Crane looks up at you, smirking. 

“You heard me,” he growls. “You’re not done yet. I want to see you play with yourself.”

The only reply you can formulate is a moan, but Crane pays no mind to it as he grabs one of your sweaty hands and shoves it between your legs. 

“No moving, now,” he warns you. “Use your fingers and that’s it. My cock stays in you, but you don’t get to use it.”

It’s so hard not to swirl your hips, even just a little. You want so badly to feel that pressure of him, moving against your walls. Even staying still, he fills you up deliciously - but you want more. But, you do as he says and rub your clit, until you’re on the edge of another orgasm. 

“I-I’m close,” you whimper.

“That fast?” Crane taunts. “You’re really that desperate for me?”

You nod, biting your lip. You’re so close you can feel the heat rising in your chest. Your fingers press harder; your breathing goes shallow.

“Please fuck me!” you beg.

“Mm-mnn,” Crane refuses. “This is what you wanted, remember? Make yourself come for me.”

His words are all you need to tip past the point of no return. You cry out, almost shocked at the pleasure that rips through you once again, even more intense than the first time.

“Fuck…” you gasp.

You lower your head to Crane’s shoulder, exhausted after two orgasms back to back. Your sweat is slick against his skin, and it’s so good to rest for even a moment. Your whole body is buzzing so intensely, it feels like you could fall apart at any second.

“Think you can do one more for me?”

Crane’s voice is rough, and right in your ear. He’s relentless. Weakly, you shake your head no. You loll off the side of his shoulder, slumping against him as your body gives out.

“I think you can,” Crane insists. “Come on, you brought three condoms - must have had big plans.”

“Can’t…” you say.

It comes out as more of a breath than a word. Every ounce of your energy is gone.

“How disappointing,” Crane sighs. “And you haven’t even made me come once. I guess I’ll have to fix that.”

In the next instant, your back is pressed against the bed. Crane hovers over you, smug grin spreading across his face.

“I know this isn’t part of your plan,” Crane tells you. “You wanted to be the one in control. It scares you more than anything not to be. But honey, it’s time to accept the truth. You weren’t in control from the moment you stepped in this room.”

You feel his cock drag slowly out of you, before slamming back in so hard that the force lifts your hips off the bed. The shock makes you yelp.

“Doesn’t it feel so good to let go? You begged me to fuck you earlier. Really, I’m just giving you what you want.”

“Want… want you to cum in me,” you pant. 

Your eyes are heavy, but you open them to look at Crane as you say it. You watch his eyes darken as he looks down at you.

“Just like I thought,” he says. “You wanted it to go like this. Your little cocktail of Ambien and Viagra was just a safety net, pretend, so that you wouldn’t have to admit to yourself just how much the idea of losing control over me turned you on. But something got twisted in that fucked up little head of yours, and now you can only cum if I tell you to. Is that right?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe. 

“Good.” Crane smiles darkly. “And now you’re going to come one more time for me. We’re not stopping until you do.”

You can tell that he’s serious, and you can already feel your third orgasm building. He's right, about all of it. He's read you like a book, and laid bare the things that you couldn't even admit to yourself. There's a terrifying intimacy in the way he seems to get inside your head, and maybe that is what you wanted all along.

You don't have long to consider it, though, because Crane is pulling at your wrist and bringing your fingers up to his lips. He sucks on your pointer and middle fingers, taking them into his mouth and swirling his tongue as he looks down at you. You're frozen in his glare, unable to look away despite feeling like you're on the verge of passing out.

When he's done, Crane moves your hand so that it's pressed between the two of you, wet fingers brushing against your clit. You squirm, and Crane smiles again. 

“Good girl.”

His thrusts are slower, but more powerful now. Even without moving your fingers, your clit is getting rubbed with each surge of his hips, as he forces your body into the mattress. 

“S-so close,” you gasp.

“I know, sweetheart,” Crane rasps in reply. “I can feel you trying to hold it back, but you won't be able to for long. Come on my cock again.”

As he orders, you obey. It really is impossible to deny him. Your chest feels like it's about to collapse as you stop sucking in air, and your mouth hangs open, useless, as you freeze in time for just a moment when the orgasm finally floods through you, dulling all your other senses. When you regain the slightest amount of control over your body, you cry out for him, rut your hips against his, bring your hands up to claw at his shoulders.

“I told you you'd do it,” Crane pants. “Now it's my turn.”

He pumps into you again, the friction against your too-sore clit almost unbearable. But you're so drunk off his cock that you don't care. The pain is pleasure by this point, and you hold tight to him in a desperate attempt to make him finish inside you, just like you wanted.

Crane is so much stronger than you, though, and he tears away just as he reaches his peak. He isn't careful with his aim; painting you and the bed with white lust as he empties messily, all over you. It's in your face; your hair; and splattered across your chest like fresh blood. You bask in the feeling of being marked by him.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Your chest is heaving with each breath. Crane, still on top of you, brushes a hand against your cheek and uses his thumb to collect some of his spent cum. He brings it down to your clit as he slips out of you, pressing against the still-sensitive nub.

“Ah!”

Overstimulated, you arch your back at his touch. His thumb is rough, but the lubrication of his cum on it feels good. He chuckles softly, and moves away.

“Get some rest,” Crane tells you. His eyes gloss over the bedside table, to where the syringe still waits. “You have a very long night ahead of you… I don't think that we've gotten even, yet.”

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #jonathan crane #LemmyFics

[spideyhexx]

fem!reader

crying your eyes out over the way you were just treated by your father when he lashed out at the thought of one william bonney. Your father, who deeply hates Billy, but is unaware of your love for the boy and his love for you. His words about Billy wrench at your heart and when you swallow down your courage and voice your opinions in favor of the infamous outlaw, your father berated you harder than he has before. His words were venom and you’ve got a thick skin but his words about how he’s gonna kill Billy, especially and violently more if he saw the outlaw around you, made your heart shatter.

Billy’s finding you in no time soon after it.

Almost like he knew something was going on.

“Hey pretty, ‘re you ready for….,” and he trails off once he gets a clearer look at your face, tears still falling from your eyes, your nose sniffly.

His lips move into a frown and he rushes over, grabbing your face in his hands. Billy’s a little too rough with it but you don’t mind, you actually needed to feel him and his warm, big palms covering your cheeks. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”

It’s hard to respond at first since your crying is in full effect. Billy’s brow is furrowed and his jaw clenches. Thoughts race into his mind about the worst possible things that could’ve happened to make his pretty girl cry this much.

“Tell me,” his voice low and firmer than it was before, but his eyes seem to soften when you sniffle.

“N-no, not hurt. My father.” and that’s all you’d have to say for billy to know what you’re getting at. He loosens his hold on your face, rubbing his thumb to catch the tears as they fall slower.

“Oh, honey…listen ‘m gonna figure it out, okay? Even if that means stealin’ you away.”

You let out a breath at that as you try to calm your breathing. “He said he’s gonna kill you,” you whisper and Billy shakes his head almost immediately.

“He ain’t gonna do that. I won’t let him.” You roll your eyes at his words and Billy pats your cheek gently.

“Honey, ‘m serious. I won’t let him,” Billy says, leaning his forehead to yours as he softens his tone, “not lettin’ your father ruin us. I can’t…I can’t,” his voice breaks and you see his nose twitch.

Before you can respond, Billy is pulling you into his arms, embracing you tight. You return it, holding onto him like someone was about to drag him away. Billy presses his nose to your hair, your scent filling him even more than it did before as he kisses your head. “Can’t let you go,” he mumbles, his own eyes watering as he thinks about your father. Thinks about you and how much the world must hate him as hurdles keep being thrown at him.

He even says it to you in that moment, “the world hates me,” and he sniffs, making you pull back just in time to see his tears.

You can’t find the right words, but all you can think to do is press your lips to his, the salty taste of both of your tears lingering on your lips. When you pull away, your lips are still brushing his, his hands finding yours. “I love you, Billy. Even if the world hates you, hates me…I love you.”

He closes his eyes, taking your words. He tilts his head back, looking up at the night sky, scattered stars twinkling above. He makes a silent wish, a promise that he keeps to himself then looks back to you. Billy breathes in and out deeply, a stray tear falling down his cheek. He presses his lips to yours. His lips are chapped and bitten from his own teeth, a nervous habit you’d always remind him of, but he never stopped it. He kisses as though he might break you and while you both yearn for something harder, something more passionate, the gentleness seizes both of you up into platter of love. Billy’s pulling away from you only slightly to gaze into your eyes as he speaks in his entrancing drawl, “and I love you, pretty. More than anyone knows.”

let’s chat about billy, here :)

#billy the kid #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid fic #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney x you #william h bonney smut #william bonney #william bonney x reader #william bonney x you #billy the kid fluff #billy the kid smut #billy bonney x reader #Billy bonney #william h bonney fanfiction #billy the kid 2022

[mousedotjpeg]

cw: explicit smut, johnny being a perv, mentions of reader and price being parental figures but not in a weird way, praise kink, price is mushy gushy but also rough, idek what else to put its just johnny perving on price and wife thats it thats the drabble

Sergeant John "Soap" Mactavish had seen the absolute worst of the world in his years working in the army. Things no human should ever have to witness; scenes so grotesque, heart-wrenching, and downright deplorable that they could only be conjured by hell.

But this? Not even the purest form of bleach would cleanse this from his eyes, nor the sweet freedom of death enough to erase this from his soul. Price, his beloved captain and father figure, and you, the wife of said captain, who just happened to be 141’s sweet little medic, going at it like catholic fucking rabbits in your empty office. All he had wanted was an extra dosage of melatonin following a rough mission, but the scene laid out in front of him would serve to keep him awake and squirming the remainder of the night.

But... the way his superior's hands so gently cupped your cheek and ran through your tousled locks - a direct contrast to his brutal thrusts that bounced you across your consultation table - had his boots glued to the linoleum floor. How long had it been since Soap had indulged in the touch of another? Even longer, the last time he muttered anything along the lines of what filth the captain cooed into your ear.

Shit, it was bad enough seeing the woman he looks up to as practically a mother get defiled by his hypothetical father, so why, why, could he feel himself getting hard in his pants? With bated breath, Johnny ignored the screaming bastard in his mind telling him to run like his ass caught fire and leant ever so slightly more into the doorway, enabling him to hear more of the filth his comrades were indulging in.

His sensitive ears first caught on to the wet 'schmick' of John's hips connecting with yours, then the heavenly sound of your sweet, sweet whimpers and moans. He ignored the moral questions his eavesdropping - no, perving - raised, and reached his hand around to the front of his pants, hand cautiously cupping himself.

"Fuck, honey, takin' it all so fuckin' well f' me," John groaned, panting into your ear.

"Jus' need one more from you, darlin' and I'll give it to you, yeah? Fill you up just like you need, finally get you fuckin' full of my babies." He babbles, clearly close to finishing himself, only holding off to feel the tight squeeze of your warmth milking him for everything he's worth one last time. You only whine out a weak "yes," far too fucked out to give any sophisticated answer, though it's clearly plenty for both your husband and the sneaky voyeur listening in.

Soap bites into his free fist, muffled a choked groan as he reaches into his pants, running along the length of himself to teasingly rub his thumb against his tip. It's easy to imagine himself in his captain's place, losing himself in the ecstasy of your sweet little cunt, all his for the taking. He's embarrassingly sensitive as he begins stroking himself in earnest, wishing for a moment that he could freely fuck his fist outside of the confines of his cargos.

"Fuck!" Johnny stills for a moment following the obscenity John shouts, then quickly gets right back to his rhythm, finding his Captain enjoying every second of your orgasm. Johnny himself bites back a pitiful sob as he imagines how tight your cunt must be in that moment, enough to make a stoney man such as Price break in your arms.

"Shit, shit, shitshitshit, honey, you feel so fuckin' good, baby, such a good little wife f' me, gonna fuckin pump my fuckin' babies into this delectable little cunt a' yours, yeah, baby? How's that sound? I'll have you barefoot 'nd pregnant f' me in no fuckin' time, honey." Price rambles, utterly pussy drunk as he rapidly approaches his high. His thrusts stutter only to press himself as deep as possible into you, which in turn roughly shoves you up the table, then he's grunting low in his throat, pressing his cold nose to your jaw and releasing all of himself into your abused heat.

At the same moment, Johnny's tossing his head back, ruining his own pants with his filth. His teeth nearly draw blood as they press sharply into his fist, though it does nothing to slow or ease Soap's ecstasy as his cock twitches in his grip and spurts out every last drop of cum in his heavy balls. He has half the mind to quiet his breathing, at last letting off his fist, leaning against the wall.

Pulling his hand from his boxers, he wipes it lazily on his cargos, daring one last risky glance into the room that holds his captain and medic, only to find one cheeky John fucking Price staring right back at him.

finally getting back into writing. i have no idea if this even makes any fuckin sense >:'c also i wasnt sure if i should tag it as a soap x reader, since he's not technically with the reader? but i went ahead and did, so just lmk if it shouldnt and ill fix it c:

~ mouse

#john price x reader #captain price x reader #mouse's mess #captain john price x reader #john price smut #captain price smut #captain john price smut #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish smut #john mactavish smut #cod smut #call of duty smut #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you

[villainousauthor]

Would you plss write something where a villain and hero realize they're soulmates? Thank you<333

Hero grunted in pain as they clutched their abdomen and tried to catch their breath. Their head swam, and their vision blurred as they attempted to gain their bearings. One second, they were in a massive fight against several villains. The next, they found themselves being pushed back through a portal. Supervillain was likely to blame for that, with his ability to warp people anywhere in the world.

Hopefully, their communicator wasn't broken in battle, so they'll be able to send their location to their team. If they could even find it.

They try to stand, and immediately, their vision starts to darken around the edges and their head throbs. With a hiss they fall back to the ground.

"Careful, you probably have a concussion."

Hero cranes their neck to see Villain a few feet away, remarkably less injured and approaching. They don't have any weapons drawn, but still, hero feels their heart lurch.

They open their mouth, trying to speak. "I didn't see you go through the portal.. " Even their voice is laced with pain.

Villain is closer now and stops a few feet away, kneeling so they're at eye level. They seem to be assessing Hero's current state. Probably to see if they can easily finish them off, Hero assumes.

"I came in after you." Villain says nonchalantly, like this is the most obvious thing in the world. They eye the blood currently dripping down Hero's head, and the large gash in their arm.

Hero snort, and their chests aches in protest. "Why, to finish the job? Make sure I don't come back?"

Standing up and getting closer, Villain rolls their eyes.

"No, idiot. One day, if you die, it's not going to be at Supervillain's hands. Or because you bled out in-" Villain looks around at the tall trees, the lack of buildings or signs of civilization. "- the middle of the...pacific northwest? I don't even know where we are." They finish, unsure.

Hero tries to sit up as Villain kneels down again, closer this time. "I don't know either. I lost all my tech, I don't even have a way of contacting my team."

"Lucky for you, my stuff faired much better." Villain says smugly, and Hero wishes they could knock the look off their face. "I'll send my location to my henchmen, and they'll come to get us."

Villain reaches out for their arm, and Hero immediately finds themselves flinching away. Villain's lips press into a thin line.

"I'm not going to kill you, like I said. Unless you want to bleed out before someone arrives, you should let me treat your wounds." Villain's voice is firm as they pull a small first aid kid off their utility belt.

"I'm not going to bled out, it's not that bad." Hero tries to keep a defiant edge to their voice. For all they know, Villain will kill them, probably inject them with some poison or something just to make it easy.

"How bad did you hit your head? Are you blind suddenly? Because it looks pretty damn bad." Villain opens the small kit, showing Hero the contents. "Look, normal first aid crap." Their brows are furrowed, frustrated by Hero's reluctance.

Finally, after several tense seconds, Hero relents. They nod and slump their shoulders, as Villain moves closer now.

"The amount of trust issues you have is ridiculous..." They grumble under their breath as they slowly pull the damaged and blood-soaked sleeve of Hero's uniform back. They get a good look at the deep and long cut. Their frown deepens.

Pulling off their dirty gloves, Villain speaks again as they reach for something else.

"I'm going to have to clean this before I dress it. You might need sutures, though." Grabbing alcohol wipes, they use one hand to hold Hero's arm steady, grabbing their forearm.

Hero immediately hisses and jumps back, wrenching their arm from Villain's grasp.

"Jesus christ! Cleaning it shouldn't hurt that much!" Hero exclaims, even more tense. "What did you do, burn me?" They demand, but then they see Villain's expression. Their eyes are focused on Hero's arm, and their face looks cloudy and unreadable. They don't respond to what Hero said, like they didn't register it.

Hero looks down at their arm, and their eyes widen when they see it. Right on their arm, below the wound is a handprint. A completely different shade than Hero's skin tone, it stands out. A soulmark. Right where Villain grabbed them.

"Oh..." Is all Hero can manage to say in this moment. Villain seems to snap out of their trance and reaches for Hero's arm quickly, wrapping their hand back around where the mark is. It fits perfectly.

"This is...this really...this wasn't here before, right?" Villain asks, even though they saw Hero's completely blank and markless skin moments before. They unknowingly tighten their hold, and Hero yelps, their arm still in pain.

Pulling their hand back like they were burned, Villain finally meets Hero's eyes. "You're..." Villain trails off, shaking their head. They look away, palm to their forehead like they're trying to process this.

Hero feels like the forest floor will open up any minute and swallow them whole. If it weren't for their probable concussion, they're sure they would be taking this a lot harder. It feels like there's a charge around them now, an electrical current, live and dangerous between them.

Finally, Villain swallows and talks. "Let me just...let me just treat your wounds, and we can talk about this later." They manage.

Hero just nods as Villain returns to their first aid kit, ignoring the spark and air of tension now between them.

#hero x villain #prompts #dialogue prompt #original writing #hero #hero prompt #villain #villain prompt #villain x hero #superhero #whump #injuries #soulmates #asks #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing prompts

[theapangea]

I love your fics omfggggg

can you do one where fwb wants to be in an actual relationship but lip doesn’t so they end things with him. then lip realizes that he loved her after it was too late. Angst with fluff at the end 💞💞

(I’m sorry this is like my first time requesting anything 💀)

Thank you so much for trusting me with writing this for you and pls do not be sorry - seriously means so much to me <3. This is a long one bc I feel there is just so much that goes into this story so I hope you like it! I went the route that Lip is kind of afraid to be in a relationship which is why he doesn't want one with the reader. Hope you enjoy my love!!

It's Always Going To Be You

Lip Gallagher x reader

wc: 2.4k

Contents: 18+/ MINORS DNI!!, There is like two paragraphs of smut and the rest has no smut, p in v, unprotected sex, idk why I had to add smut but it’s Lip so kind of makes sense, verbal fighting, swearing

Fingers digging into your hips as you continue on your euphoric ride, your juices dripping down his balls as you grind against his length. Your head is fuzzy, your thoughts scattered as Lip holds you down tightly while he increases his speed. His throbbing tip hits your sweet spot repeatedly, twitching under his grasp as the feeling is mutual. Lip watches as your face contorts into pure pleasure, riding the wave of pleasure as you both cum.

A whiny moan escaping your lips as Lip pounds hard into your core. Your heart pounding in your center as you roll over onto the bed. Falling softly onto the mattress, the sound of heavy breaths quickly overtake the room, replacing the moans that once littered the space. 

Turning your head to look over at the man who just rocked your world, once again. The sun hitting his face perfectly as it shines brightly through the window, watching the sweat trickle down his temple and a playful smirk dancing along his face. His thoughts are foggy from the amazing time you two just shared. 

Rolling over onto your side, your left hand snaking its way along his chest, fingers grazing over the soft skin, goosebumps trailing not far behind. 

Lip takes your hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze as his other hand reaches for the loose strands of hair that fall into your face, tucking them neatly behind your ear. Then pulling you closer by the chin to place a soft kiss on your lips.

You are in love.

Lip has your heart so deeply that you cannot fathom feeling anything else. His touch, his voice, his laugh, his everything making you completely head over heels for him. 

Unfortunately for you, the two of you are just friends who happen to have sex with each other. Though you definitely yearn for something more. 

Taking a deep breath as you work up the courage to ask, “Do you ever think about being more than just friends?”

Lip’s eyes are still fixed on yours but his face changes to an indescribable stare. The question obviously makes him think more than you would like. Humming before answering, “Uhh, not really.” Dropping both of his hands as Lip looks back towards the ceiling. 

A wrenching punch to your fragile heart. 

“So you just want to have sex and that’s it?” You question, your tone becoming venomous as you push back from Lip. The feeling of love slowly dissipates.

“Pretty much yeah.”

Pretty much? 

Pretty much?

Has Lip Gallagher completely lost his fucking mind? 

Your body begins to shake, your blood boiling inside your veins as his words repeat over and over and over in your mind. You want to scream, yell, push, punch…cry. All of these emotions build in your body as you stare at Lip who doesn’t even look like he gives a shit.

“Fuck you Lip Gallagher.”

It is all you can muster up the courage to say. Immediately following the words by getting off the bed. Grabbing your underwear off the floor, murmuring to yourself as you struggle to put them on. 

Lip groans as he lifts himself up, “Don’t be like this.” Scooting himself to the edge of the bed. Reaching out his hands towards you, his fingertips brushing against your bare waist and arms. Grazing along the skin until he reaches your hand, squeezing light with sincerity in his eyes.

He makes your heart flutter, but you can’t shake his words, “Lip, be honest with me.” Your free hand gripping the cotton fabric of your shirt, “Do you ever want this to go further than just sex?” 

"Like a relationship?"

"Yes a relationship."

Hesitating before answering you, “Not really.”

Dropping your hand from his instantly at his hurtful words. Heart sinking to the very depths of the holes in your stomach, the burning sensation tickles the back of your throat as you hold back your tears. “Then we’re done.” Your tone is quiet, continuing to fight the urge to collapse, to cry into his arms as you hurry to put on your clothes.

Lip tries, but fails, to get your attention. Reaching out towards you to talk to him, but every time you take a moment to just stare at him. Your stare no longer holds the spark of love that radiates for him, but the resentment you now hold towards him. The way he just let your heart hit the cold ground without any care in the world. 

And as soon as you have your pants on, you are out the door of his room. Practically running to get out of the house, away from him, away from the heartbreak. 

You can hear the heavy footsteps behind you, knowing he is following close behind. His voice follows as it pleads for you to stop. 

Finally able to grab your arm at the end of the staircase, the argument is in full display of his family that occupies the living room. “Why do we have to ruin what we have now?” Lip whispers.

“We don’t have anything now, Lip.” You harshly say, louder than your normal tone of voice, “It’s just sex, all we ever do is fuck and I want more.” You can feel the burning sensation come back, your eyes shifting downwards as the tears start to become too hard to hold back, speaking softly, “I deserve more.”

Ripping your hand hard from his grasp. Pausing just a brief second to look at Lip, wishing this day turned out differently. Wishing you never had sex with him in the first place. You leave without saying another word, the door slamming loudly behind you.

Lip is beyond furious with you and how you reacted. He couldn’t believe how childish you were being over something so silly, over something that wasn’t even serious. He shakes his head before departing up the stairs, before anyone of his siblings can make any sort of remarks about the shit storm that just happened. 

Lip ignored the world for the first couple of days since your break up, that wasn’t really a break up, at least not to him. He constantly replayed the fight over and over again until his head hurt. Trying to understand you but he couldn’t he could fucking understand you at all.

Why did you get so mad?

Why did you want to ruin what you both currently have?

Why did you want more?

Why couldn’t he give you more?

After a couple of weeks, Lip wasn’t mad at you anymore. A little annoyed but not mad. More mad at himself and frustrated with how he always handles these situations. If anyone shows just a little bit of feelings towards him, he completely shuts down, shutting anyone and everyone out. Anyone who could break him.

Lip’s life eventually went back to normal, or as normal as a Gallagher’s life could get. But there was definitely something missing, and he knew it was you and your laugh and your smile and the way your eyes light up when you look at him. 

Lip finally realized that it was never about the sex, even though it was definitely great. It was you, it was always going to be you. 

He was just too much of an idiot, too heartbroken by other girls to see that you are perfect for him in every way.

He is in love with you, and finally ready to admit it. 

The realization hits Lip like a ton of bricks on this hot, sunny Tuesday afternoon. The puzzle pieces finally click into place as his mind is no longer questioning his feelings. He understands how he feels and he needs to tell you right now.

No more waiting, Lip thought, it was now or never.

And he couldn’t face forever without you.

His heart beating faster, the adrenaline pumping through his body as he practically runs to your house. His feet moving quicker than ever before, his body rushing on the pure thought of love coursing through his vein. 

The high races in Lip's head, sending him higher than any joint or orgasm ever could. 

Lip is in love.

The rapid pounding on the front door shakes you from your slumber. It’s been a couple very hard weeks since your stupid, little break up with Lip. God, why couldn’t you get him out of your mind? 

Taking a pillow to place over your head as the pounding becomes louder and louder, more and more frequent. You groan aggressively throughout the quiet house, wishing the person on the other side will just go the fuck away.

Huffing as you begrudgingly take your little heartbroken body down the stairs to answer the door. The knocking still at full volume, shaking the windows. Unlocking the door to see him…the boy who broke you. The boy who wants nothing from you but sex. 

You can barely look at him, making the quick decision to shut the door. Wanting to leave him and everything about him far away from you. But before you can close the door completely, Lip jams his shoe into the open space. Pushing to try to stop you from shutting the door, shutting him out. 

“I just want to talk.” He states, sticking his hand to help himself keep the door open.

Now leaning your whole body on the heavy door, attempting to close it on him, but unfortunately Lip is far stronger than you. “I have nothing to say to you,” Pushing hard until he finally loses his grip and in one final push, you close the door and lock him out.

Chest heaving as you watch him on the other side of the fogged glass. You can feel your body start to give in as he calls your name. Begging for you to talk to him. 

But you physically can’t. You won’t let yourself be hurt by Lip again. You deserve better than that and if that means never seeing him again, then so be it.

Walking away from the door, back up the stairs, continuing to hear him call your name. Each time is like a knife being twisted deeper into your heart. Plopping on the bed, grabbing a stuffed animal and crying, because at this point there is nothing more you can manage to do.

Lip huffs as he tries to figure out what to do. Obviously his first attempt at talking to you didn’t work out very well but he can’t just leave and hope that some day things will work out between the two of you. He needs you to know how he truly feels. 

Puckering his lips as he walks out into the front lawn, looking up towards the second floor at your bedroom window. And that’s when the idea hit, just like every classic 80s movie, just needs a little bit of romance. He looks around for a couple of rocks, taking two or three of them in his hands before tossing them at your bedroom window.  

The tapping sound clicks through your room, hearing it in between sobs. Looking up to figure out where the noise is coming from as another rock hits your window. Wiping away the snot from your nose and the tears from your eyes as you stumble over to the window.

Peering out to sit Lip down below, waving up at you. Opening the window to shout, “Go away Gallagher before I call the cops.” Your voice still reminisces of hurt as you try your best to sound tough.

“I just want to talk.” Lip yells back, picking the dirt off of the rock in his hands.

“Well I don’t.” You begin to shut the window until he yells for you to stop. His voice is about to break, tugging at your heart strings. You can see his cheeks start to get rosy and the strain in his eyes as he holds back tears.

“Please stop,” He feels like he can’t catch his breath, “I just need to talk.”

You pause, staring at him as he begins to break down in your front lawn. Opening the window again, poking your head out and nodding for him to continue. 

“I was- I am a fucking idiot. Because I didn’t see what we had, b-but I do now. You have to believe me.” Dropping the rocks in his hand as his palm wipes away the lone tear that runs down his cheek.

“I LOVE YOU Y/N!” His whole heart is in his words. “I am so madly in love with you.”

You can’t help but smile, smile at him for being such a dork who is shouting his love for you. Smile because it feels like you can actually breathe after so many weeks of being under water. Your lungs so full of air they could burst at any second. 

“Please come down here and talk to me.”

Rolling your eyes playfully as you make your way out of your room, down the stairs and out onto the porch. A little laugh catching in your throat as Lip continues to shouts to the neighborhood how much he loves you. How much he adores you.

Only stopping when he notices you are outside. “I’m serious, y’know. About us.”

Crossing your arms over your body, as you so desperately want to give yourself to him, but after what happened between the two of you. You can’t help but want to continue to build your walls. “I don’t know, Lip.”

“I was scared. Wh-when you told me that you wanted something more. I didn’t think I could feel this way after- well after Karen. But here you were, here you are making me feel fucking stupid and like over the moon for you.” Lip rants, “I could be doing the most interesting shit, and somehow the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, and then I end up thinking about you for the rest of the day.”

“I am in love with you. I am always going to be in love with you.” His eyes are soft as he tries to study you, tries to indicate what you are thinking. Hoping that you will forgive him. 

A small smile creeps onto your face as you can’t help but understand where Lip is coming from. You know what it’s like to not trust people, to want to close yourself off from others. Hell it’s easier than falling in love. But you can’t help who you fall in love with.

Taking a couple of steps closer to him, hand extending to touch the buttons on his shirt. Eyes, doe-like as they bat behind your eyes lashes. Heart fluttering as you pinch the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer towards you.

Inches away from one another as Lip grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply, needing you more than oxygen. 

~~~~

“I could be doing the most interesting shit, and somehow the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, and then I end up thinking about you for the rest of the day.” - writing prompt from @dumplingsjinson - prompt list here.

I super hope you enjoyed!! Let me know what you think <3

#lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher smut #shameless x reader #theapangea #lip gallagher angst #lip gallagher fluff #lip gallagher fanfic